Golf-playing platitude generator Thomas Friedman has a grasp on the English language that would probably be described, by Thomas Friedman, as "a big tree in the forest swinging in the wind," because Thomas Friedman is just a god damn nonsensical shame, as a writer.

CBS News' Mike Wallace, who died over the weekend at 93, is being hailed as an icon of broadcast journalism for his foundational role as 60 Minutes' investigative bulldog. This is bullshit. He was a failed soap actor and vaudeville hack named Myron who just wanted to be on television. He was as much a journalist as Ryan Seacrest.

Mustachioed soothsaying simpleton Thomas Friedman long ago mastered a formula for justifying business trips all over the world by writing columns about them—columns that, while not genuinely insightful or even pleasant to read, contain a sufficient number of plausible-sounding platitudes to enable your average Xerox Corporation regional manager to sound informed during his morning meeting with underlings and sycophants.

Christina Hendricks' publicist confirmed last night that the Mad Men star had been the victim of a hack, and that some candid cellphone photos of her had made their way to the internet. However, Christina's publicist says the most noteworthy photo from the Hendricks hacked photo cache—a pair of ample, naked breasts—is not of his client. "The topless image is fake and not an image of Christina."

Olivia Munn and Christina Hendricks both suffered apparent hacks this weekend, resulting in the release of nude photos of both. We'll get to Christina in a separate post; first, let's talk about Olivia's NSFW nudes, which are basically the filthiest celebrity nudes to date.

Cranky Old Man Who Really Has No Original or Insightful Ideas About The Internet or Media in General But Thinks He Does Because He Lived in a High-Powered Bubble For Many Years as NYT Editor and Now Nobody Will Tell Him That His Columns Are All Tedious and Pedestrian Bill Keller has written a snide response to all the snide tweets about the snide response to his last snide column about the internet that was itself not particularly new or interesting.

We've already pointed out that the collateral damage from Anonymous' latest online raid—the release of more than 2 gigs of email and other data from Puckett and Faraj, the law firm that represented the squad leader responsible for the Haditha massacre—included some unlikely targets. Now one of the partners of the firm has announced on his Facebook page that he supports Anonymous' goals, and once even offered to defend Anony-hero Bradley Manning.

Earlier today, Anonymous announced what sounded like an awesome caper: The group had compromised the email of a law firm that represented Staff Sergeant Frank Wuterich, the Marine squad leader who got a slap on the wrist for his role in the Haditha massacre. Trouble is, the hack had a lot of collateral victims, including people that Anonymous might normally be aligned with. Like a lawyer for Guantanamo detainees.

Iowa Sen. Chuck Grassley is an incredulous old coot who likes to tweet unreadable shorthand nonsense, constantly, and then lash out at those who would make fun of him. Whenever the federal government gets around to killing off the dumb Internet once and for all, they should leave Grassley's Twitter page up as a memorial to fun times lost. Here's a useful perspective for considering how unorthodox Grassley's feed is: When hackers broke into it today, their tweets were instantly more professional than the graffiti that one of our most senior Senators usually vomits out from his phone.

New York Times opinion-haver David Brooks is not a "journalist," per se; he's more of an "amiable prick." Still, he is employed by a newspaper, and he writes about news. One would think he might be, at least, in favor of, you know, journalism, or at least the spreading of facts, in the public interest. Not so!

Have you been cracking wise about our cherished field of Republican presidential candidates? Perhaps calling them "assholes" when they do and say horrible things? Let's grow up already. Because stilted CNN misery bot Wolf Blitzer will surely put us in detention if this goes on much longer.

1988 Iowa caucus runner-up Pat Robertson — that's still funny, isn't it? — is getting disturbingly cocky in his regular secret magical chit-chats with The Almighty these days.

The person or persons behind the so-called "Climategate" email hack two years ago are at it again: A second trove of roughly 5,000 emails to and from climate researchers at Norwich, England's East Anglia University has popped up on the internet.

It didn't take long for many writers who veer towards the "right wing" of the political spectrum to formulate their consensus response to Herman Cain's still-vague history of alleged sexual harassment, and sexual harassment claims in general: Lighten up, sweetheart! But few have had the guts to put it in such brazen terms as crabby old paleocon John Derbyshire, of the National Review. Let us celebrate "Derb" on his momentous day of social commentary.

The title of bumbling self-parody Tom Friedman's column today is "There's Something Happening Here," which is a little misleading. Yes, there is something happening; of that, Tom Friedman is certain. But if you came looking for what is happening, you'll be disappointed.

Untalented but successful writer Thomas Friedman has been doing a lot of thinking lately. "I like golf," he thinks to himself, while sitting in his palatial mansion. Then he realizes his next column is due in an hour. "Manservant!" he cries. "Bring me a metaphor! Any metaphor!"

Frank Bruni is the new Bill Keller is the new Thomas Friedman! Which is to say, the latest New York Times columnist who can be reliably depended upon to use his priceless media real estate to write utterly vacuous and worn-out tripe about this CRRRAAAZZZYYY modern technology we have in our modern world, these days.

If you, too, specifically seek to read pieces of writing that you know will be depressing if not dangerous, then there's nothing better than a Thomas Friedman column's opening paragraph that runs with either a misleading anecdote or confusing extended metaphor. Today's the latter! Let's take a gander at this sumbitch. It is about golf.

You may have thought that soothsaying mustachioed one-trick pony Tom Friedman had done his best work of the summer last week, when he achieved near-total conceptual pointlessness. Not so! Yesterday's column was an altogether masterful demonstration of Friedmania.

There is much glee on the ethereal plane high above the Bethesda clouds from which New York Times columnist Tom Friedman writes his column today. We're treated to his latest venture into despondent centrist wet-dream fanfic, in which the Mustache of Understanding imagines a world where political parties don't have bases, but still manage to dig deep, treat each other politely, and deal with false problems in bad ways through their own sheer purity of will.