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Red S.E. Cupp is the home of S.E. Cupp, co-author of "Why You're Wrong About the Right."

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Dis-Appointments


I have a piece in A Small World magazine (which is a members-only site)...here's the column in its entirety.

Dis-Appointments

I didn’t vote for Barack Obama (I’m one of the four in New York City it would seem). But as I’ve stated ad nauseam in print and over the airwaves, I’m now the loyal opposition, and I take that role seriously. So I’m prepared to help this man succeed…we need him to. And I’m prepared to give him credit where it’s due. I respect him tremendously for keeping Robert Gates as Secretary of Defense, for example. And making it to no fewer than 10 inaugural balls after a day of parading is a spectacular show of stamina. I couldn’t have done it.

But he’s not making it easy otherwise. Our new Secretary of the Treasury didn’t pay his taxes. Our new Attorney General made questionable legal decisions. Our new Secretary of State has connections to foreign monies. And our new CIA director has no intelligence experience.

Now, this bizarro-world experiment in reverse psychology may turn out for the best…who knows? Crazier things have happened. But I’m beginning to wonder what, exactly, our criteria should be for choosing our national representatives.

When we have elections, all of this is sorted out. Not always for the best of course – Spitzer, McGreevey, Ted Stevens, William Jefferson, etc. But when leaders are appointed, all good judgment apparently goes out the window.

Here in New York, the governor – David Paterson, also the beneficiary of an unlucky appointment – actually seemed to consider appointing Caroline Kennedy to Hillary Clinton’s old Senate seat. Ms. Kennedy’s a great fund raiser, and I’m sure our state could really use her money and connections, but this isn’t an episode of The Hills. We don’t just give out top jobs to quasi-famous people. She has no political experience. Literally – none. Luckily the governor came to his senses and appointed Kirsten Gillibrand, a blue-dog Democratic congresswoman with great credentials.

And we all saw what Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich did when he earned the power to appoint – in clinical terms, he went effing crazy, putting the Senate seat up for sale, jogging around Chicago like a Chippendale dancer in short-shorts, flopping that incredulous head of hair all around town, boycotting his own impeachment trial, and fooling around with the kooky, fun-loving girls on The View, who seem to think of Blago as some kind of lovable loser. They’re wrong, of course. He’s just a loser.

Now, to be clear, these moments of sheer political hilarity that have actually managed to tear my attention momentarily away from PerezHilton.com, are not a reflection of Barack Obama. But, his own appointments have been nothing short of befuddling.

Leon Panetta is, I’m sure, a super guy. After all, he wrote the Hunger Prevention Act and helped establish the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary; who wants to be hungry or hate on marine animals? But while these credits to his name may make him a humanitarian and a conservationist, I’m not sure they’ll help him weed out terrorists in Afghan caves.

Eric Holder, our new Attorney General made a horrific pardoning choice during the Clinton administration, and it wasn’t in forgiving the tax evader Marc Rich. It was his decision to pardon 16 FALN terrorists, who were behind more than 120 bombings between 1974 and 1983. This is simply inexplicable.

And Timothy Geithner, of course, admits his Turbo Tax wasn’t quite helpful enough. The man who we are entrusting to help solve our fiscal crisis and enforce our tax laws forgot to pay his own taxes. If he’s not good at figuring out our tax code, what exactly is he good at? Are we hoping he’ll be the first hitter since Ted Williams to bat .400? Are we counting on him to write the first interactive opera?

All in all, it’s a sorry state of affairs, and I’m just trying to wrap my brain around it. More than anything, my morbid curiosity can’t wait to see if these picks actually pan out, or if Barack Obama will rue the day he gave Panetta, Holder, Geithner and, yes, Hillary Clinton, keys to his administration. And maybe this means there’s hope for other seeming unqualifieds…does Katie Holmes need a job?

Contraception as Stimulus???


I have a new post up in the Fox Forum about Nancy Pelosi's cost-cutting suggestion.


Obama to the Rescue?


I have a new piece on FOXNews.com, on Barack Obama's possible impact on the dearth of black superheroes in popular culture. The rendering to the left was drawn by Jerry Craft, creator of "Mama's Boyz," exclusively for us at FOXNews.


Running With The Bulls


I'll have a new running column on Sports Illustrated online. My debut column, on Professional Bull Riding, is up today. Check it out!


Friday, January 23, 2009

Letters to SE


Have a new piece in American Spectator that discusses the surprisingly angry responses to my Washington Post op-ed...

http://spectator.org/archives/2009/01/23/the-more-things-change

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Friday, January 16, 2009

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Gay America Prepares to Party


I have a new post on FOXNews.com about the inauguration.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,479932,00.html

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Interview with The Tygrrrr Express

Thanks to Eric, from The Tygrrr Express, for the fun interview.

http://www.tygrrrrexpress.com/2009/01/my-interview-with-s-e-cupp/

Monday, January 12, 2009

Thanks, Conservative Comeback!


Thanks to The Conservative Comeback for the honor of being named their first "Miss Conservative of the Week." Flattered!

http://theconservativecomeback.blogspot.com/2009/01/miss-conservative-of-week.html

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Friday, January 9, 2009

The Sweet Smell (But Not Taste) of Success


The following post appeared in A Small World Magazine. Enjoy...

The Sweet Smell (But Not Taste) of Success

By S.E. Cupp

Tarpon, popular among sport fishermen, supposedly has no food value…although, in a pinch, I have a feeling it would keep you alive for a few extra days. Nonetheless, I wasn’t allowed to keep the 130-pound, 7-foot monster I caught off Miami over New Year’s. But after a lifetime of relative failures in this department, I didn’t need the trophy to leave totally satisfied.

I went to Miami to escape New York’s blistering 5-degree temperatures for a few days, and catch up with my friend Doug Giles, an accomplished fisherman and hunter. He’s a well-known conservative radio host (he is the creator and host of The Clash radio shows), a columnist (he has millions of readers at Townhall.com), an author (see recent titles like “How to Keep Jackasses Away From Daddy’s Girl”), and a minister (he’s a graduate of Knox Theological Seminary).

Doug is a raucous and rowdy mix of old-school, traditional conservative values with the kind of eff-you attitude folks like Ted Nugent have made millions on. He’s one part rebellious rock star, one part crusading missionary, and another part rough rider. And he was going to take me fishing.

I hunt and fish as often as I can. Not only do I love it, but as a 20-something woman and writer in New York City, it gives me some street cred to talk about the politics of gun laws, conservation, land use, and sportsmen’s issues, which I do frequently in various publications and on television. And as a political columnist and pundit, it’s always fun freaking out my well-heeled and expertly manicured contemporaries with tales of my latest adventures.

But those adventures, while always fun and terrific learning experiences, haven’t always gone to plan. In short, I’m PETA’s favorite kind of hunter: the one who never fires a shot. I spent 12 hours this past November in a deer blind on the frozen floor of a Coventry, New York forest waiting for a buck to pass in front of my 12-gauge shotgun. It didn’t.

And in August I went to Alaska for the second time in a year to catch my body weight in salmon and halibut. Three days into the trip and all I had caught was bronchitis. I spent the duration in bed, listening to the sounds of wild dogs scavenging through bags of fish parts–caught by my healthier tripmates– outside my window.

A few years ago I went deep-sea fishing off the coast of Brazil, where I was told I’d have a chance at marlin, dolphin and sailfish–some of the best sport fish out there. But the seas were so rough all we caught were 30 or so sand dollar-sized porgies, which we used for a fish fry on the beach at Buzios. They were tasty (as were the homemade caipirinhas the boat captain whipped up), but I would have gladly gone hungry and thirsty that night in exchange for a memorable fight with a marlin.

So when I agreed to an outting on the high seas with Doug and his friend Captain Gavet, my expectations were low. Being outside is always a nice break from the hibernation-like life of a writer, but I haven’t always been able to seal the deal, and Doug’s insistence that we’d “be in serious pain” the following day was no real assurance. I’ve heard it before.

A few hours into the day and things weren’t looking good. No marine life, unless you count the minor run-in I had with a Portugese Man O’War, whose sting causes very painful but temporary paralysis. As I awaited a slow and painful death, the captain started telling tales, not of fish he’s caught, but bodies he’s discovered while out on jobs. I grew worried I’d hook a John Doe before I caught a John Dory, or any other kind of fish.

As night fell and the Miami coastline lit up, I resigned myself to the prospect of another fishing trip without the big payoff. But then, suddenly, screaming reels. I grabbed the rod and whatever was on there was massive. It took me 40 minutes to muscle the tarpon, bigger and longer than me, up to the boat, where we took a dozen blurry pictures before cutting it loose. My abdominals, shoulders, biceps and back were shredded. I could barely hold the celebratory cigar Doug cut for me…it felt like it weighed 30 pounds. Shaking, I enjoyed a Corona and reveled in the thrill of an utterly successful outing, where I caught the fish of a lifetime. Finally.

I’ve learned tremendous patience from fishing and hunting. It’s not about the kill. Responsible hunting and fishing, in fact, means that you put the integrity of the sport ahead of the trophy. It’s frustrating, of course, but it’s an invaluable lesson. It would have been nice to have kept the fish, either for dinner or to mount. But rules are rules, and I’m happy to abide. Maybe one day another frustrated fisherwomen from the wilds of New York City will catch that same tarpon, and leave with the a similar satisfaction. Or maybe, he and I will meet again. I look forward to the duel. In the meantime, it’s back to life in the big city, where the only hunting I do is for my keys, and the only fishing I manage is for a little generosity from my editors. Tight lines, indeed.



Monday, January 5, 2009

Hollywood Conservatives and Andrew Breitbart


I have a new piece on FoxNews.com, about Andrew Breitbart's new online venture, and the changing climate of Hollywood politics. Did fun interviews with Breitbart, Perez Hilton, and other industry insiders...