Image: Licensed Adobe stock, Rostislav Sedlacek.
[Editor’s Note: the following is a page from the personal diary of National Rifle Association spokesperson, Dana Loesch. It is reproduced unedited with the author’s permission].
Dear Diary,
Today was the so-called March for Our Lives. Really it should be called the MarchES for Our Lives, as it consisted of dozens of marches in cities across the United States advocating for stricter gun control.
I heard from friends and then saw online a video of the sleekly-produced montages that played in the big march in D.C. Saturday between speeches by young shooting survivors of various ages and backgrounds. I have to admit, I was moved. My heart, which an EKG last week confirmed is remarkably small, withered, and necrotizing as I write this, went out to these poor kids. No one, especially a child, should be thinking, “Will I be shot at school tomorrow?” Rest assured, I got over it quickly. I have a lot of money to make by performing, as I do, my role as official spokesperson for the National Rifle Association (NRA). The lecherous, ugly, old men I have to work with every day, make me sick, to be honest, particularly every time one of those smarmy bastards touches my butt. But the big paychecks the NRA deposits every second and fourth Wednesday into my checking account make me the opposite of sick–vibrant, I guess?
Related: These disco bands got together to bitch and moan–to 1970s-inspired tunes!–about Trump.
When it comes down to it, gun to my head (see–if we didn’t have guns, we wouldn’t have that useful and very potent phrase), I’m not that into guns. I like the thrill of holding a gun in my hand, the loud mini-explosion of the gunshot, the feeling that I’m not only hot as hell, what with the whole raven-haired, symmetrical-features, Misfits-from-Jem-and-the-holograms look I have going on–but powerful enough to kill a man in a nanosecond by pulling a trigger. But if the NRA hadn’t asked me to speak about the “importance” of legal gun ownership, I’d probably still own a gun, but not be screaming about the Second Amendment and its liberal enemies from nine-to-five every day. What a way to make a living!..Boy, I sure do love that movie…
But I digress. Back to my point. And that is: I consider myself an actress more than an activist, if you will. When I give a speech, I approach much like I imagine Sarah Bernhardt approached putting on a play. When I represent the ultra-conservative, pro-gun lobby on a news show, I come at it the same way Julianna Marguiles comes at a role on a television drama. And when I appear in a promotional video for the NRA, I’m motivated by the same forces that I imagine motivate Meryl Streep when she appears in a film.
I memorize my lines, I get in character, and I go out there to give my audience what they want. In this case, that’s a shrieking banshee who’s painting the picture of a cultural war that they’re going to lose if they don’t fork over more money to the NRA. I widen my eyes, I strut from stage left to stage right in my stilettos, and I use a dire yet appealing tone of voice to deliver my message of gloom and doom, sturm and drang, guns and ammo.
I was hired to be the face, the voice, and the bangin’ body of the NRA, and my parents raised me to always work hard and do a good job, whatever I’m hired to do. If the ultra-liberal think tank Centers for American Progress offered me more money than the NRA tomorrow to be its mouthpiece, well then, diary, I’d ham it up on their behalf. I am an even hotter, spray-tanned version of Demi Moore, let’s face it, and like Demi, I have a wide range.
For a moment, when I saw those video montages that played at the March for Our Lives in D.C. this weekend, I got a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Will I go down in history as this, admittedly hot, awful person who did great damage to the nation, in particular, its children, by spouting this hysterical NRA nonsense? Luckily, just then I got a notification on my phone from Bank of America, that the NRA deposited my last paycheck. I felt a six-figure-induced calm, a money-based pride, a funds-motivated satisfaction. All was right with the world. Oddly, all is so not right with the world. But all was right with my world, and when push comes to shove comes to shoot–actually, long before any of that happens–all I care about is material comfort for me and my family.
And: How to make your home a haven for glib cultural stereotypes a la Ryan Zinke.
People have asked me what kind of message am I teaching my kids by being willing to say, essentially, anything as long as the payout is high enough. And I say, “I think I’m teaching them a great lesson, the lesson our whole culture is built around, which I can sum up for you in three words: money, money, money.” The person I’m talking to usually looks aghast, but they’re just in denial if they think they’re doing anything different in their jobs. As Aaron Samuels said of Regina George in Mean Girls: “There’s good and bad in everybody, Regina’s just more up-front about it.” In case it wasn’t clear, I’m Regina in that simile. If only everyone had the wisdom, savvy, and smarts of Jonathan Bennett’s character in Tina Fey’s freshman foray into feature-film-making.
To summarize, as most people do in their diaries, I think of myself as a performer much more than an advocate of any sort, and I’m pretty sure this is apparent to most people who watch me–well, perform on the cable news shows and at events like the CPAC (Conservative Political Action Committee) annual meeting in Baltimore recently–on a subconscious level, of course. I’m a showman, much like my dear Donald Trump. The words I speak are irrelevant to me–and really, I think, to my fans and supporters. It’s about my delivery, my emoting, and my almost dancer-like use of my bod to convey the message that unfettered access to all types of guns is our Second Amendment right. I mean–oh, shoot (pun intended)! I’m supposed to Skype into Fox News in 3 hours. I better start piling on the makeup now.
xoxo,
Dana
Also: The 3 nutritional supplements those on the right wing must take!
We at Spread Your Right Wings generally don’t like people, the Internet, or interacting with people on the Internet. Seek out someone—in person—to talk to and laugh with about this article. Check back with us as we continue to mock the right wing. Follow us on Twitter at @worstaltlife join our Facebook group, and follow us on Instagram at @worstaltlife. If you simply must get in touch with us, DM us through our Facebook group. Also, please, please see the disclaimer in our About section.
© 2018 Akbar Khan
