At long last, there's an article on a Washington insider I want to read about that's not Trig Palin! The Washington Post's Ezra Klein is a 24-year-old policy powerhouse who appears all the f*ck over cable news as an analyst and, more importantly, is my secret boyfriend.
Li'l Ezra first popped up on my radar back in 2007 when he challenged Michelle Malkin, Dippy Right-Wing Outrage Barbie, to a debate on the SCHIP children's health care program when he was at the American Prospect. Malkin, if you don't know her, is the perpetrator of many crimes against taste/wonderful gems of political comedy, like this terrible thing and this holiday-themed grotesquery. (Warning: these are things you can never un-see. If your eyes do not stop making a crackling sound after a few minutes, splash them with a cool handful of this.) Malkin hates the SCHIP program so much and thinks we should instead spend that money on interning more Japanese people.
I wanted this battle to happen so bad. I wanted to come home, turn on my computer, strip down, slather myself with baby oil, get the plate of Twinkies out of the fridge, and watch the f*ck out of that debate on Bloggingheads.tv or whatever. Sadly, Malkin declined the invitation for fear that her face would appear like a smooshed aphid next to Our Ezra and His Immaculate Visage. (She needn't have worried. Her face looks like that no matter who she's sitting next to.)
The world lost a lot that day. Thankfully, Ezra is there to soothe our troubled souls every day on his blog, where he types sexytime posts all day long in his 2xist underwear and athletic socks.
I've yet to receive Ezra's response to my invitation to him to debate his nerdy jewy hotness, in boxer briefs, with guitars and a boombox, at the Beacon Theater, on a chase lounge. (I've just now issued this invitation.) I'll keep you guys posted.
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