He’d probably be named Worst Writer in America, too, if anybody read the New York Times.

U2 singer Bono’s investments into Elevation Partners, which has offices in New York and Menlo Park, have helped make him the “worst investor investor [sic] in America,” according to the online publication 24/7 Wall Street.

With large investments in Palm, Forbes, and Move.com — “an unprecedented string of disastrous investments which even bad luck could not explain” — Elevation Partners has earned the distinction of being “arguably the worst run institutional fund of any size in the United States,” 24/7 Wall Street asserts.

Via Big Hollywood.

Henry Rollins has contributed another gloriously inane editorial to Vanity Fair titled, “We’re Gonna Have a Tea Party Tonight!” It is an exclamation point-laden tirade against Tom Tancredo, Sarah Palin, Oliver North and tea partiers generally for being stupid and evil or something.

In two places, VF.com describes his writing as “straight talk.” “Straight” must describe the line he has toed up to– the cliched, progressive line that imagines all opponents are latently fascist and sub-moronic. (Although I would certainly choose his “straight talk” over his positively unlistenable “spoken word.”)

You will discover that Henry Rollins is an exceedingly bad writer. At one point, he completely runs out of ideas and literally writes, “blahblahblah.”

It’s quite fun to read, and to envision somebody at Vanity Fair– which I think is still a well-regarded publication, no?– assenting to publish this wall splatter of feces.

Now if only there were one place to get all the latest nonsensical ramblings of celebrity gurnalists like Henry Rollins and Bono…

In his latest carnival of poo, Bono decries the state of automobile design and wonders,

Are aerodynamics to blame? Economics? Or that most American of inventions, design by committee?

It’s nothing new for Bono to misunderstand America or to make ridiculous generalizations, but you may be surprised by his proposed solution:

That’s why the Obama administration — while it still holds the keys to the big automakers — ought to put some style fascists into the mix: the genius of Marc Newson … Steve Jobs and Jonny Ive from Apple … Frank Gehry, the architect, and Jeff Koons, the artist. Put the great industrial designers in the front seat, right along with sound financial stewardship … the greener, the cleaner, the meaner on fossil fuels, the sexier for me. Check out the Tesla or the Fisker Karma car, designed by the same team that gave the world the Aston Martin.

Bono glides between blithe sarcasm and grandiosity with such ease that it makes you wonder if BONO knows when he’s kidding.

See also:
BONO: Guest Columnist For MISSOURAH.com

SHOCKER: Quarter-billionaire rockstars wholly untethered from reality have ideas on how to improve America

I use the English language in mysterious ways.

Walking between the raindrops in a fantastical-gray Dublin December, I begin to muse and meander through the days and nights (and everything in between) of this strange, strange year. In the first decade of a new millennium, we seemed not to progress, but perhaps to take a sheepish step backward. Brave Old World.

Sure, you say, bard of ole’ Ireland, what do you know of change? You sing. (To some, cacophony; others, symphony.) Rhymey timey. Singy songey.

But I have walked the beaches and the barrios of a cornucopia of nations, those with boundaries and those without. I’ve swam the oceans and pools of each corner of this verdant Mother earth.

And it is She, quiet matriarch who asks little of her brood, for whom I fear most in this next ten– tenuous, tendentious– years. They say the icey dreamscapes of the great North will slushily succumb and the waters will rise.

It’s high time to bide the high tide. If we wait any longer, baby, it’s gonna be too late. Emissions is the Mission.

Boppity gippity. Dippity doo. Ga-na-ha-da. Ooo-eee-ewww. The times they are a-climate changing. Bono. Mono. Stereo. Hero. Boyo.

Polar bears. Solar cares. Git git gedak. Foppity woppity. Drippity droo.

Humbly yours,
BONO, singer (nay– dreamer.)

(Editor’s Note: Readers are recommended to see also, Guest Blogger: Meghan McCain. Also, you may want to check out this actual [i.e. non-satirical] column by Bono.)

I told you to send my royalty checks to the Netherlands!

U2 lead singer Bono contributed a desultory, barely intelligible guest column to the New York Times over the weekend, consisting largely of telling Americans what they believe, or stand for, or something. He also shares his cartoonishly simplistic pop-rock worldview:

Americans are like singers — we just a little bit, kind of like to be loved. The British want to be admired; the Russians, feared; the French, envied. (The Irish, we just want to be listened to.)

I won’t get into his bizarre, International House of Pancakes determinism for the attitudes of British, Russians, French or Irish. But Americans want to be loved? Are you fucking serious? That may be true for Alec Baldwin, Perez Hilton and the lead singer of the Killers, but I seldom meet anybody who who actually seeks to be loved by foreigners, unless they’re pathologically insecure.

Here’s another turd from the clueless rocker:

America is not just a country but an idea, a great idea about opportunity for all and responsibility to your fellow man.

I’m glad we have Bono to tell us what America is. (Now if only The Edge would advise me on how to run my small business…)

However, where the hell did he come up with the idea that America is about “responsibility to your fellow man”? That sounds more like Marx than Jefferson. It’s really not hard to ascertain that Americans are an individualist lot and such a statement is deeply problematic– but that might require Bono to doff his freaky ski goggles and look around.