Remember Kevin Williamson? He’s the former National Review NeverTrumper contributor who wrote a rancid hate piece on the white working class poor.
Well, Kevin quit his job at the NR, offered his services to the leftwing rag Atlantic, and was unceremoniously dumped after just one article.
John Nolte applied a verbal spanking to Williamson that will definitely leave marks.
From his article at Breitbart
My God, NeverTrumpers are dumb. What did these narcissistic stupes think, that they could sellout just a wee bit, just enough to retain a small part of their balls, and the Social Justice Mob would welcome them with open arms? Did Kevin Williamson actually believe that his contempt for Trump and his voters (who “deserve to die“) would be enough?
In order to chase after “prestige” at the left-wing Atlantic, this genius Williamson quit his job at National Review and then found himself fired after writing exactly one essay. Worse still, Williamson was shown the door even after using his introduction essay to prove his fealty to his new Masters by trashing his former employer and one of its few remaining decent writers (most National Review-ers are now like Williamson — disguising every column as a plea for a job at a “respectable” publication).
Williamson was fired over his swaggering desire to see women who have abortions “hanged.” The quotes, which were dug up by Williamson’s new establishment colleagues at Media Matters, are typical of Williamson: boastfully thoughtless trolling from a man who frequently confuses his “incoherent and cruel” (hat tip: Victor Davis Hanson) prose with Hemmingway-esque strut.
……Banishment, Scarlet Letters, promising to fill the gaping egos of soft-bellied conservatives… Let me explain to the self-absorbed tribe of NeverTrump how the establishment media operates, how it has always operated….
The seduction usually begins in green rooms, and always starts with a question like, “You don’t really think Donald Trump should be president, do you?” For the record, the question used to be, “You don’t really like Ann Coulter, do you?”
And it is at this point where you can either be a man or a squealing little gerbil.
There is no question the gerbil route is by far the most lucrative. Suddenly the Beautiful People love and respect you, treat you like a circus freak one of their own. Suddenly you find yourself at the center of their world as they hang on your every word. And the more you distance yourself from the Breit-tards and Christian-tards who are “ruining conservatism,” the more they love you.
Warm and cozy in the rarified waters of “respectability,” it is exhilarating to finally be swimming with the Keymasters (to book deals and TEEVEE!!), and it is all going to be okay because your “enlightenment” regarding Trump is good enough for them to see that you are “one of the good ones.”
At this point you are also able to convince yourself that these are good people, not the Borg, not a group of soulless gangsters out to crush anyone not like them. How could they be anything but good? After all, they like you, and you agreeing to be just a little “reasonable” has already put you thisclose to escaping the hick ghetto, to adding “Atlantic Contributor” to your Twitter profile, to having Jake Tapper ask your opinion on Things That Matter, to a book deal, to endless green rooms, to acceptance and love, to the bottomless pit of your self-regard being empty no more.
Take a look around, NeverTrump morons… You can either go the full-woke — in which case you are so immune you can still work at the Atlantic even after confessing your belief that “the police and firefighters who sacrificed their lives” on September 11 are “not quite human” — or you can find yourself a target for annihilation for using the word “whining” or some dumb provocation about hanging women who have abortions.
Take a look around, you pious preeners… The only way those who once described themselves as “conservatives” survive in the Prestigious Media is if they agree to sellout completely and forever — if they agree to Big Brother’s terms and on TV screens all across the country repudiate everything they once stood for (see: Scarborough, Joe or Wallace, Nicole or Frum, David). Otherwise, they get the Jeffrey Lord treatment.
Them’s the rules, nitwits — that is the current Cold War we are in, and it is an existential war launched by a billion-dollar media establishment populated by corporate blacklisters determined to destroy our speech platforms by shrinking the window of acceptable debate. And while the moral cowards in NeverTrump pretend to live in some Masturbatory Fantasyland where they can cozy up to the villains while cowering under a blanket of “muh principles” and Stormy sanctimony, the rest of us have figured out that this is the only fight that matters.
“What did you do during the war, daddy?”
“I was a squealing little gerbil.”
Maybe Kevin Williamson will take his own advice to the working class — rent a U-Haul and learn computer coding.