Ann Coulter is already widely regarded as the heinous high priestess of screeching hyperbole, whose natural habitat is the nearest studio chair on a right-wing cable hatefest, from whence she spews her bile-rich nuggets of insane vitriol like a mama bird projectile vomiting chunks of hate fuel to nourish her babies, as they sit, gape-mouthed and wanting, waiting for their vile supper on couches in front of tellies across the nation. It's a tough act on which to improve; when you've already reached such awesome levels of breathtaking odium, sometimes it seems as though there's nowhere left to go. Jaded baby birds might begin to mutter that the hatred is losing its flavor, once they've heard the same old maniacal rhetoric for the fortieth time.
But Coulter is nothing if not dedicated to keeping her young ones plump with outrage, so on the day her newest tome, Godless: The Church of Liberalism, hit bookstores, she went on The Today Show to tell Matt Lauer, oh yes, she believed every word of her treatise, including the bit where she says of 9/11 widows, "These broads are millionaires, lionized on TV and in articles about them, reveling in their status as celebrities and stalked by griefparrazies. I have never seen people enjoying their husband’s death so much."
Think Progress has the transcript and the video.
The thing I always enjoy about watching Coulter, when someone vaguely sane reads an excerpt from some wanton bit of lunacy she wrote, to which they are seeking her response, is that she is clearly uncomfortable with it. She visibly gulps. Her hands come unentwined from their usual position clasped around her crossed knees and begin to play with her hair, sweeping it behind her ears. She shifts and looks uncomfortable. And then, when the excerpt ends, and the question begins, you can see her readying herself for whatever hard-assed, uncompromising response she's about to give. Her eyes narrow and she smiles, bitterly, just before she launches into her comeback. There's a part of me that hates her for so obviously showing signs she knows what a disgusting piece of conservative extremist trash she is, but playing the part anyway. But there's another part of me that revels in the knowledge that any little shred of soul she's got left is being slowly eaten away, by the unmitigated shame and horror of having her ridiculous words reflect back to her the nightmarish cartoon of a human being she has become.
It's a tiny wee modicum of conscience she's got left, but it eats at her. And my fervent hope is that one day, it will swallow her whole, and she'll live out the rest of her pathetic days wallowing in the digestive juices of the remnants of a conscience she could never quite decimate, no matter how hard she tried.