If you have to explain a joke . . .

Dear John . . .
You skunk-sucking bastard . . .
— Hunter S. Thompson, letter to John Chancellor of NBC News, Sept. 11, 1972, reprinted in Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ’72

The humorous intent of my post congratulating Peter Suderman on his new gig at Reason magazine apparently was not apparent to all readers, as indicated by one commenter who described it as “an angry, childish, personal attack.”

One would think that the phrase “acromegalic inamorata” would have been what they call a “tell” in Vegas. Or maybe the extended riff on the old free-milk-and-a-cow adage.

Well, never mind all that, let’s do it Joe Friday style. Peter Suderman is an extraordinarily witty writer. The last time I saw him and Megan at a party in D.C., they informed me that they were, as young folks now say, “in a relationship.” Or as more old-fashioned folks might say, fornicating.

Shagging. Gettin’ jiggy. Living in sin. Whatever.

I immediately inquired when the couple planned to wed. This is my customary expression of “family values” when speaking to young people in Washington, where knocking boots without benefit of clergy is so commonplace as to be unremarkable.

Indeed, such is the mentality of young Washingtonians — a consequence of our sexualized popular culture — that a middle-aged mentor cannot consult with an attractive female protege without provoking whispers that some sort of concupiscent motivation must be involved.

Ergo, one learns to take this as the joke it is, and to turn it into a self-parodic schtick. So I’m the D.C. mack daddy pimp in the same way I’m a neo-Confederate lesbian. (Being notorious is not the same thing as being famous, etc.)

As the token social conservative in an ocean of cultural libertarians, I find it convenient to treat matters of sex humorously. On the one hand, I’m sincere in my advocacy of traditional family values — Peter and Megan should get married immediately and rapidly spawn at least half-a-dozen babies, so as to invoke the expression “Irish twins” — but on the other hand, I’m aware that most young people don’t take that stuff seriously.

So I sometimes do things like alluding to the first chapter of Romans (well worth reading, especially in the King James Version) in hope that maybe these kids come from a background where such a reference might ring a bell. As Pastor Lon Solomon says, just a suggestion, not a sermon.

Hunter Thompson and John Chancellor were friends, and so when Thompson called Chancellor a skunk-sucking bastard, he meant it in a good way. Likewise when I called Suderman a “rent boy” and a “charity case,” and suggested that he’d soon be flashing around his newfound wealth in the manner of a first-round NBA draft pick.

However, it is quite true that McArdle has never once linked me, not even after I gallantly escorted her home through the mean streets of D.C. one night when she suffered a spell of vertigo at a party. (Rumors that I secretly dosed her with ruhypnol and then had my way with her should be taken with a grain of salt, absent videographic proof.)

I’m a big enough man not to resent the non-linkage too much, but I feel compelled at least to mention it occasionally — in the same way I mention that I am The Blogger Whom Allah Hateth — lest the snobs who snub me think I’m too stupid to notice I’m being snubbed.

Even a self-parody must have some pride, and the snobs cannot be allowed to believe that they really are as superior as they wish others to think.

Megan McArdle ends the recession

Well, not exactly. That credit goes to the Koch Foundation, which just awarded a fellowship to Peter Suderman, paramour of the World’s Tallest Lady Blogger. Thus ends Suderman’s lame excuse for avoiding matrimony with the lanky libertarian lass.

Some bloggers may express concern about the so-called “ethics” of Suderman working for Koch cash. Ethics be damned — what about the sin?

“Oh, we can’t afford to get married — I’m unemployed,” the shamelessly cohabiting Suderman said the last time I cornered him at a Reason Happy Hour and warned him of the fiery eternal tortures that await fornicators.

How convenient that the Hindenburg-at-Lakehurst implosion of Culture 11 gave Suderman an opportunity to test an old adage of market economics, enjoying the milk without the responsibility of purchasing the cow, pleading poverty as an excuse for failing to make her an honest cow.

Well, no more excuses now, eh, buddy? June is a traditional month for weddings, so Suderman’s now got a full week to take his acromegalic inamorata to the courthouse and close the deal on this particular livestock transaction.

She took him under her roof when the alternative was for him to live under a freeway overpass and stand beside the on-ramp with a tin cup and a hand-lettered cardboard sign: “Unemployed Cultural Critic, Will Snark For Food.”

Koch is a 501(c) non-profit — “The mission of the Foundation is to advance social progress and well-being . . .” — so Suderman’s gone from being McArdle’s rent boy to being Koch’s charity case.

Koch is all about capitalism (“social progress,” my butt) which means that this is an extremely lucrative fellowship for Suderman, even more lucrative than being McArdle’s gigolo. So if Megan is abandoned at the altar, while Fishbowl DC is gossiping about reports that Suderman has been seen wheeling around Dupont Circle in a sporty new convertible full of scantily clad 22-year-old Cato Institute interns . . .

Well, don’t say you weren’t warned.

Libertarians in the hands of an angry God!

P.S.: If you want to congratulate the soon-to-be Mrs. Suderman on the good fortune of her fiance’s Koch bailout, the wicked fornicators are expected to be in attendance at Wednesday’s Reason Happy Hour.

P.P.S.: Megan McArdle has never once linked me. I get more linky-love from Sully. NTTAWWT.