No, Charles. Breivik linked directly to your website, quoted from articles that you posted and promoted, and named you multiple times. You took responsibility for your own content with the statement “I AM Little Green Footballs. It’s only me.”
Remember when Charles Johnson claimed that Robert Spencer, Pamela Geller and others were responsible for deranged madman Anders Breivik’s murder spree in Oslo within hours of the shootings, merely because they were mentioned in his “Manifesto?”
Remember when ThinkProgress posted a bar chart of Breivik’s influences based upon his online “Manifesto” and omitted Charles Johnson and Little Green Footballs? Remember when the BRC did a simple word search of Breivik’s “Manifesto” and found over 30 citations that were omitted by ThinkProgress? Remember when we posted an updated StinkProgress bar chart to include Breivik’s references to Charles Johnson and Little Green Footballs?
Remember when Glenn Greenwald found it, verified it and reposted it? Heh.
Remember when we turned the ThinkProgress bar chart into a pie chart?
Charles Johnson is a lying coward. At least Glenn Greenwald is honest.
Charles Johnson never wished anyone a Merry Christmas as far as I could recall, so I broke into the Blogmock Rec Room, busted the lock and opened the rusty hinge on the trap door hidden underneath the cat stuff behind the couch and climbed down into the stifling confines of The Boiler Room. I found a box marked “Christmas.”
You won’t find those legit comments via The Wayback Machine or on The World’s Greatest Search Engine, but there they are, a late, yet appreciated, Christmas present to Diary of Daedalus. Thank you, Charles.
In the spirit of giving, I went to Target today. The shipment will be a bit late, but it’s the thought that counts.
Merry Christmas Charles!
Something flew up Charles Johnson’s HooHah recently that got him to post a series of Tweets attacking the late Michael Crichton. Unfortunately, Mr. Crichton isn’t around to defend himself, so he’s an easy target for Mr. Hypocrisy.
Michael Crichton was a successful formulaic novelist who based his themes on research. Many of his novels had similar characters thrown into similar situations with similar challenges, yet they were entertaining. “Jurassic Park” may be his most famous work. My favorite was “Eaters of the Dead,” a retelling of Beowulf with the hypothesis that Grendel was not a dragon but a tribe of mountain Neanderthals carrying torches to drive out the invaders.
In “State of Fear” Crichton used his typical formula for a fast-paced novel, but the Appendices were where the meat was. He included graphs and links to data sites (including NASA) to show that Global Warming was little but promoted hysteria based upon false assumptions. Shortly after SoF was published, NASA took down the referenced links, and subsequent edited copies of the book deleted reference to them. Someone got pantsed.
Now back to Charles Johnson. Why is he suddenly bothering with a novel from ten years ago? He fights with a dead man, offers no evidence to contradict Crichton’s sources, and remains an ignorant blowhard. Charles, your a mess.
Update: Charles was indeed a fan of Michael Chrichton, as evidenced by his comment on 4 March 2007:
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through The Swamp
Not a moonbat was stirring and no furries did romp;
The tweets were posted on the internet with care,
In hopes that Glenn Greenwald would be reading them there;
The Chunkster was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of relevance danced in his head;
With his crusted ‘kerchief, and his pony-tail cap,
He had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
He waddled from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the long dead grass
Gave lustre to the “land mines” dropped straight from Gus’ ass,
When, what did his beady eyes should spy,
But the Boiler Room Crew and that Bunky guy.
With evil laughter they moved, so lively and quick,
Chunky knew in a moment it must be those DoD pricks.
More rapid than Eagles the stalkers they came,
Daedalus whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, ChenZhen! Now, Bunk X! Now, Arachne and Briareus!
On, Octo! On Rightymouse! On Abu and Crankypants Zeus!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the stalkers they flew,
With the sleigh full of sockpuppets and The Boiler Room Crew.
And then, in a twinkling, Chunky heard on the roof
It was the stalkers stomping and now he had proof.
As Chunky drew in his head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the DoD gang came with a bound.
Chunky shook with rage from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with Cheetos dust and soot;
A deflated Ms. Sssss lay on his rack,
And he looked like a middle-aged has-been and an internet hack.
His eyes — how they squinted! his dimples how doughy!
His cheeks were quite flabby, his manboobs quite showy!
His mean little mouth was drawn down in a frown,
And the stubble on his chin was both gray and brown;
The stump of The Ban Stick he held tight in his grip,
And from his ass the brown notes did constantly slip;
He had a fat face and a big round belly,
That shook, when he screamed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right angry old elf,
And Daedalus laughed when he saw him, in spite of himself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave Chunky to know he had everything to dread;
The DoD gang spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
They took a dump in Chunk’s living room, then turned with a jerk,
And Daedalus laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney they rose.
Daedalus sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But Chunky heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas you fat bastard, and to all a good-night.”
On the Twelfth day of ChristmasCharles Johnson gave to me:
Twelve Banned Commenters
Eleven Hateful Twitters
Nine Java script tips
Eight Greenwald seethings
Seven Vapid Vimeos
Six Outraged brayings
F I V E S T E R N W A R – N I N G S !
Three Phil’s a cretins
Two Jazzy noodlings
and a Pamtrum in a Pear Tree
[Updated with d’s abbreviated 12 Days of Christmas from downstairs. Merry Christmas to everyone. Hope you get socks. – Briareius]
Interesting that there’s been a noted absence of deleted comments on Little Green Footballs recently, so this one caught our attention. Oddly enough, The Boiler Room Crew knew about this particular deletion days before it was posted. Heh.
Good thing that The BRC was on the spot to screencap Comment 110 prior to deletion because it is significant.
announced gloated about the LGF 10,000,000th comment over a month ago (proffering a book autographed by Rachel Maddow that he got for free and didn’t want, so he offered it as a *ahem* prize) but here’s the problem. Charles never deleted the 32,531 duplicate comments in his archive, even though we stuck it directly under his unkempt hirsute nostrils a mere 1 million LGF comments ago.
Here is the TRUE 10,000,000th Comment on Little Green Footballs.
Of course there were reactive comments by clueless lizards. [Fact checker‘s polite posts are embedded in lieu of the deleted comments below. Image differences are due to different screencapping methods only.]
And the top response goes to Charles “FuckFace” Johnson for bein’ a dick.
No, Charles. It was The Boiler Room Crew, and you just published someone’s personal information for pointing out your blatant errors. Again. That’s the reason nobody trusts a dickhead like you, regardless of one’s political affiliation.
BTW, here’s the post that Charles rigged for 10 Milyo, highlighted in urine yellow by Mr. Blobfish himself:
Penis Penis Penis LOL indeed. Embarrassing Stats coming up.
We’ve hinted at it, but now we’re ready to confirm a date and time for the big reveal of our next project. After the Super Bowl, will you be watching “The Voice“, or will you tune in here to see what we’ve come up with? I’m going to recommend the latter (although, I suppose there’s nothing to stop you from doing both).
As a team, we’ve had some pretty neat projects in the past, like “Saint Pancake“, The Memory Hole rescues, the LGF comment stats, the “tweet counter” smackdown, the Johnson comment file, the jaw-dropping list of 4,200+ banned accounts, and the revelation that there are 32,531 duplicated comments in the LGF database (and that every “millionth” comment milestone ever celebrated over the years was premature), but this particular one is special.
Why? Well, in addition to the unprecedented collaborative effort within the BRC, this is the first time we’ve called on DoD readers to pitch in (we’ve had a great response on that, and we thank everyone who contributed). Also, while we’re sure that Johnson eventually discovered how we stole the memory-hole strawberries, we’re thinking that there’ll be some serious frustration-induced keyboard-mashing and ponytail stroking over the question of how we got into his kitchen on this one. Remember that scene from Star Trek II where Kirk hacks into Kahn’s dashboard and lowers the Reliant‘s shields? Kinda like that (Kahn never did figure it out, right?).
We’ve got screencaps, animated gifs, charts, graphs, and analysis that will humble even the most sycophantic liz.
Anyway, there’s your teaser. Enjoy the game.
Almost, but not quite overlooked, The Boiler Room Crew is celebrating its first birthday, thanks to Charles Johnson and Little Green Footballs.
Charles Johnson ran a tight ship on LGF with a penchant for banning commenters who in his opinion didn’t fit in. Eventually he began editing and deleting comments, and vaporizing entire threads containing millions of comments that didn’t synch with The New Lizard Order.
A lot of people noticed and some of them began archiving.
One of those archivers figured out how to download massive amounts of LGF material, and did it without hacking. Eventually Charles noticed, and began blocking his archives (especially the comments sections) from public view, but it was too late. Meanwhile, Engineer No.1 contacted Engineer No.2.
Engineer No.2 noticed that Engineer No.3 was working on similar stuff, and was duplicating some of the work already completed by Engineer No.1. Engineer No.2 introduced them, and The Boiler Room Crew was born. The BRC searched for and found others who were working independently and from different angles. Engineers No.4, 5 & 6 joined the force,
and it all began in August of 2010.
The first mention of The Boiler Room Crew was here on 28 November 2010, although by then they’d already been in operation for several months, working under the wire and behind the scenes.
Happy Birthday to The Boiler Room Crew, a big happy family in a stinky sweaty room accessed via a trap door behind the Rec Room Couch with the cat stuff.