Yes, the kooks are running the chicken coop, it seems. Both on the left and the right.

Wingnuts to right of them,
Moonbats to left of them,
Pundits in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with snot and smell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Kos,
Into the mouth of Rush
Rode the six hundred.