We all live in the shadow of the Debating Retard

I enjoy getting into verbal spars with opponents with retarded debating skills. Not because I win, because winning is not possible with these people. You don’t argue with the Debating Retard to win. You do it because idiocy-in-action is amusing, especially when it’s on high-volume display before friends and peers.

And you can bet the argument will be on display when the Debating Retard is involved, because Debating Retards a) always take the easy high-ground, b) mistake shrill volume for a well-hone argument, c) usually surrounds himself with a pack of dumbasses to second his ill-conceived opinions and d) become emotional like 5-year-old girls no matter what the topic.

Until they open their mouths, it’s not easy to identify a Debating Retard. Many Debating Retards live normal lives performing mundane activities like rotating tires, eating frozen yogurt and listening to Lionel Richie albums. The easiest way to out a Debating Retard is to besmirch a beloved sporting icon:

YOU: (Former San Francisco 49er head coach) Bill Walsh certainly had a good run in the 1980’s, but one cannot call the man “a genius” when he happened to have the greatest quarterback and wide receiver ever to play the game on his roster.

DEBATING RETARD: Have you ever won a Super Bowl?

YOU: No.

DEBATING RETARD: (loud, and with a smug look) THEN SHUT UP!

The Debating Retard usually commands a number of colorful phrases to cement his argument, like “’Nuff said!” and “That’s what I thought!” and “Talk to the hand!” If you attempt to circumnavigate the Debating Retard with reason and logic, the Debating Retard will just repeat what he or she said previously, only much louder:

YOU: True, I never won a Super Bowl, but I can’t see how that disqualifies me from weighing in on ––


YOU: Like I said, no ––


Notice that you will never receive an argument for Bill Walsh being a genius. That would require insight and thought. Instead, the Debating Retard elects to key in on the obvious and maintain his ground no matter what. He’s like cement.

The patron saint of the Debating Retard

Of course, even intelligent people can de-evolve into Debating Retards when confronted with specific topics. Democrats are a prime example. Most Democrats I know are a pretty sharp lot. Especially if the area of expertise concerns computer operating systems, science fiction movies, or comic book characters. Democrats become fucking Daniel Webster when it comes to dissecting the philosophy surrounding The Force or weighing in on the pros and cons of Internet file sharing. But when it comes to politics, look out! Five-year-old-girls coming through! Here’s how a normally clear-headed Democrat assesses the pros and cons of the Bush Administration:


YOU: I hardly believe that a man who has peaked at the very pinnacle of power can be classified as “stupid.”

DDR: Whuddoya mean? BUSH IS A MORON!

YOU: I’m not convinced. He fooled an entire nation into going to war against a third-world country, and with a few cleverly selected words, managed to curtail the very people who elected him by weaving a cocoon of paranoia and fear to further enable his sinister allegiances with Saudi Arabia.

DDR: That’s what I said! BUSH IS STUPID! Talk to the hand!

As bad as Democrat Debating Retards are, Republican Debating Retards are worse, as they tend to hone their arguments to single-word punch lines, like “Whitewater!” and “Lewinski-gate!” and “9/11!” and “Socialism!” and “Patriotism!” Here’s how a retarded debate shakes with a Republican Debating Retard:

YOU: Seeing that Iraq’s involvement with 9/11 appears be little more than a revenge-dream for a gunslinger commander-in-chief, I can’t say I can lend my support to an Administration that so willingly fabricates fictions and masquerades them as tenets for war.

RDR: The Clinton Administration bombed a pharmaceutical company!

YOU: Right. Yes. That’s true.

RDR: That’s what I thought!

YOU: Uh…that’s what did you think?


Most frustrating is the Debating Retard’s enthusiasm for celebration, a result of the Debating Retard’s refusal to allow for any chance for defeat. The more you calmly inject reason into the debate, the more shrill the Debating Retard becomes, until he unleashes his own personal WMD, the Moronic Declaration of Victory:

YOU: Despite your ill-mannered shouting, you have yet to supply compelling evidence to convince me that the moon is made of green cheese.

DEBATING RETARD: And YOU have no reason to make me believe it ain’t! I WIN!

YOU: How did you win? What about these lunar photos —

DR: (shouting to people milling about) Hey! Look at the dumbass who doesn’t believe the moon is made of green cheese! YOU’RE DUMB! LOOK! HE’S DUMB!

YOU: Please get your big finger out of my face and let me speak! Stop dancing! Put your shirt back on!


Some wrongs can only be rectified by
Robert Mitchum wearing a hat

Your inclination may be to channel the spirit of Robert Mitchum and wordlessly punch the Debating Retard in the face. That would be cruel, as the Debating Retard cannot help what he is. The best advice is that, once you realize you are faced with a Debating Retard, to simply close your eyes and walk away. The Debating Retard will believe that he won, but that was going to happen anyway. Just walk away, and make yourself a sandwich or crack open a soft drink. Or punch yourself in the nuts, I don’t care.


One response to “We all live in the shadow of the Debating Retard

  1. Oh lovely. I’m now forced to worship you as tho holiest of all Angry people, which, admittedly, isn’t as great a title as it may sound. I agree with and applaud you.

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