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In one aside, Colbert says, “I used to hate guys like me. But then I became a guy like me, and now I like guys like me” (January 15th, 2008). Regardless of whether he contradicts himself, that was then, and this is now. What gives Colbert joy is simply the fact that he has his own views, as a-historical, inconsistent, and radically oriented to the present as they may be. While being analytical requires prudence in suspending, making, or altering judgments, Colbert’s character instead delights in his judgments so much that can even claim to criticize himself (“I used to hate guys like me”), yet avoid taking any distance from his own perspective (“now I like guys like me”).

In leaping to this wild conclusion, Colbert not only does whatever it takes to like himself, but he again uses circular reasoning. His premise is that he hates and likes who he feels like, because he hates and likes who he feels like. To avoid being circular, or begging the question, the premise of one’s argument can not rely on the premise itself. He would need a reason for his hating or liking. But in Colbert’s world of fallacious logic, one needs no reasons.

To illustrate, in one edition of “The WØRD” entitled “Casualty of War,” Colbert rants:

The one thing we cannot do is leave because then Iraq will explode in more chaos. But we will leave if Americans keep hearing about these casualties. So, saying there are no casualties is the only way to prevent greater casualties. Therefore Nation, it’s not a lie to say fewer Iraqis were killed than were actually killed, because by doing so we’re stopping more Iraqis from being killed in the future. Every lie we tell now will become truth then but only if we have the courage not to tell the truth now.37

Here Colbert commits the logical fallacy of an appeal to consequences . In this error, one assumes that if something leads to a good consequence, then it must be true, even if it’s not really true. Colbert argues that by labeling casualties non-existent, we prevent the U.S. from leaving Iraq, and thus avoid chaos. Therefore such a label must be true. But regardless of how we may feel about a consequence like chaos in Iraq, it’s still a lie to say there were no casualties if there were.

Colbert also uses this labeling ploy in committing a reductio ad absurdum, where one’s reasoning ends with a statement that’s clearly false. Colbert concludes absurdly that the lie we tell now is a truth, simply because some good things might follow—when a lie is still a lie, regardless of what we call it.

In one interview, author Ron Suskind critiques then-Vice President Dick Cheney’s “One Percent Doctrine”:

SUSKIND: If there’s a one percent chance that WMDs have been given to terrorists, [Cheney] says to folks inside the White House, we need to treat it as a certainty. Not in our analysis, but in our response. It’s not about evidence. It frees us from the evidentiary burdens that, well, have been guiding us for a long time.

COLBERT: No offense to the V.P., but isn’t that soft on terror? One percent? Shouldn’t it be a zero percent doctrine? I mean even if there’s no chance that someone’s a threat to the United States, and they just look at us funny, shouldn’t we just [punching his palm] tag ’em? … The problem with evidence is that it doesn’t always support your opinion… . That’s what the Vice President was protecting us from… . If we waited, we wouldn’t have invaded: That’s true because it rhymes.38

By taking the one percent reasoning to the extreme and implying zero percent is sufficient grounds, Colbert shows how fallacious it is to turn so blind an eye to the weight and burden of evidence, as an analytic mind should. Rather than even attempt to lay out any elements needed for a reasonable conclusion, Colbert again uses random criteria: Suddenly the ability to rhyme makes something more true than evidence or argument ever could.

Laying irony on irony, Colbert himself made news when U.S. congressmen kept appearing on his show, only to have embarrassing clips of themselves