Any wingnutette or wingnut who actually knows about the Frankfurt School must be taken seriously, Dr. Bones. But please remember that seriousliness comes in a variety of paradigms or models, of which that of Grand Ayatollah Michael Bin Ledeen is one of the neo-tackier. [1]
For instance, it occurs to me that Señorito de Brooks y Podhóretz itself could probably spot a horkheimer at fifteen yards or so, especially in bright sunlight with the winds of neonuttiness behind it.[2] Neither Big Mikey nor little Davey is a real heavy-hitter for the Rio Limbaugh Mensas, I fear. Neither is an instance of le formidabilité from sheer weight of pedantry, I mean, as even a sub-par-lookin’ Leostraussian must prudently be assumed to be until the contrary has been established beyond cavil.
Alio modo: the Muses and you (and even the present keyboard, maybe) are not likely to learn anything from such specimens beyond that of which they are neospecimens, namely P&I, Party ’n’ Ideology--of neoterror simply as such. By contrast, when we steel ourselves to endure the over-all and systematic self-dingalingism of Neocomrade Mr. H. Mansfield of H*rv*rd, there is a reasonable chance of picking up a few pearls of general knowledge. [3]
Whether the Very Rev. Neocomrade M. Ledeen properly understands the Port Huron manifesto is a question I cannot get interested in. Whether Don Davidito misunderstands it is even tediouser. (Not even to speak of how old the American Ideological Enterprise, LLC, will be on its next birthday!) If we forget about all such bologna, what’s left for Ayatollah Tweedledee and Master Tweedledumb to be quarrelin’ over? The true nature and probable destiny of the Astroturfbagger Movement, presumably.[4]
Not an unpromising topic, were any competent discussants available. But these two neocomrades are not exalted above the P&I gutter high enough make an adequate survey. His Eminence thinks astroturfbaggery is swell, Señorito de B. y P. is not so sure. A decent political adult might award the rattle to Tweedledumb (little Davey) on that basis alone, but he who strives to be an informed practitioner of neocomradology will demand at least a few additional data points. Since Big Mike is not gonna to help make little Davey’s case for it, I guess we must go re-read what it said for itself:
| The New Left then, like the Tea Partiers now, had a legitimate point about the failure of the ruling class. But they ruined it through their own imprudence, self-righteousness and naïve radicalism. The Tea Partiers will not take over the G.O.P., but it seems as though the ’60s political style will always be with us — first on the left, now the right. |
(Don Davidito’s bottom line, THAT is.)
The señorito is more hostile to its own P&I neocomrades than I remembered, which may be grounds for subtraction of a few Prudence Points from its score rather than from the turfbaggers’. Plus subtract a few Coherence Points also, Dr. Bones, insofar as DBP leaves the customer wonderin’ how, if this Menckenoid "conspiracy of kittens" never does manage to topple the Washington Monument, as it says it does not expect that they will, anybody will be able to tell they were imprudent.
Or, at any rate, why anybody sane would care. Who now worries about the prudence or imprudence of Neocomrade Zillionaire H. R. Perot’s dupes and marks? Submersi sunt quasi plumbum in aquis vehementibus, don’t you know? And a good riddance, too.
At this point, sir, I believe we may award the rattle to Master Tweedledumb with some confidence, even without working through the alleged self-righteousness and naïvety and radicalism. Grand Ayatollah bin Ledeen deserves to lose on formal and procedural grounds, it seems to me, insofar as he simply does not respond to any of the points in the señoritoly indictment.
Does the Rev. think Astroturfbaggery will take over the Party of Hoover and Atwater? Does the Rev. consider that the turfbags are in fact prudent and humble and sophisticated and moderate? Maybe he does, maybe he does not, maybe he thinks some of that but not the rest -- there is no way to tell.
The only point quite unmistakable is that the Rev. Bin Ledeen approves of the turfbags and wants to suck up to them. But that is of no interest to anybody but future biographers of His Eminence, should there be any such. The neocomradologist can make nothing of that without knowing WHY he approves of the turfbags. It is, in the abstract, as likely that the Rev. likes his kitten conspirators for their imprudence as for their prudence, for their arrogance rather than their Uriah Heep shtyk, and so on down the Brooksian list. And the abstract is exactly where we stand with this guy.
For that matter, His Eminence may even want to suck up to the turfbags *without* likin’ ’em, for, if that were his case, Dr. Bones, what better plan for the Rev. than to talk about the hatefulness of old enemies of the Hate-’68 Movement™ rather than reflect upon the character of present company?
"If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all" is never quite the whole megillâ, Dr. Bones: there is always the flowers that bloom in the spring, should all else fail.
So then:
| BROOKS 42, BIN LEDEEN 15 |
And I wish you, sir,
Healthy days.
______
[1] Like all the present keyboard’s pronouncements, whether expressly posted or not, that one is strictly me judice and entre nous and comes with a nothing-back warranty for the first thirty hours, concepts and workmanship excluded.
[2] Davey Boy’s homebrew Geisteswissenschaft product has, I suspect, been strained carefully to make sure that Frankfurtisms, call ’em, do not turn up unexpectedly in the customer’s soup. The sort of customer for whom Davey scribbles--one thinks of her, Dr. Bones, as a Starbucks Gal™ sipping a lactem over to the Cambridgeside Galleria in Zipcode 02140, or the Beaconhillside outlet would do [2.1]--does not care to be outshone by her servitors, as she plainly would be if she essayed to holler "Waiter, there’s an adorno in my soup!" but could not pull it off for lack of nerdish technical vocabulary.
That Don Davidito spares such a fine lassie’s finer feelings certainly does not mean that it does not itself have a tolerably adequate notion of St. Theodor. [2.02]
[2.01] By golly, sir, there she blows! At http://tinyurl.com/yk77zdh (in Transcaroliana, dial http://tinyurl.com/yhnqjvu )
[2.02] http://tinyurl.com/2p85a4 (( Wiesengrund?! ))
[3] Only "a reasonable chance," however. The Leonine guru’s latest performance in the path of weekly standardisation is of better quality than anything comparable on offer here in Padschamastán, but then, beatin’ out poor old Neocomrade Rear-Colonel V. D. H. Blimp is no great feat. Being a card-carryin’ Mister of H*rv*rd, though, Neocomrade H. Mansfield may be deliberately dumbin’ himself down to suit his target market. That is, he may be doin’ on this one occasion the same trick that I take Don Davidito to be perpetually engaged in. Father Zeus knows best.
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