Apologizin’ for Bee Pee

Dear Dr. Bones,

This morning you may watch a cub agitpropper flounderin’ , sir.

Its intended patients or victims are NOT to think ill of Party Paymasters and the AstroTurf™bagger classes -- that general proposition goes almost without sayin’ inside the well-gated neocomradely community.

No system of gatin’ can ever be absolutely perfect, however. "Things leak," one might idiotically generalize, and such leakage can produce neoideologically unsatisfactory situations like "76 percent of respondents disapprove of the way BP has handled the spill." Not to mention a holy Homeland™ awash with crimmigrants and criminaliens leaning ever inwards.

The cub fears that this dreadful three-misguided-citizens-in-four mob may include a few upstandin’ kiddie selfservatives and Party base an’ vile who really ought to know better. Not even Foxcuckooland -- not even National Review itself! -- is 100% gleichschaltet as yet, and indeed, they presumably never will be, given the perfluctus originalis, the inherent Original Leakage of all mortal things. Father Zeus alone can keep a really tight pipe.

Some of the weaker siblin’s, then, of Party and Ideology seem to the cub, or, much more likely, to its cubmasters, to be likely to deviate from GOPT®F, the Republican Party brand (®) True Freedumb product. The success of P&I wombschoolin’ has brought with it the problems of success [1], one of which is that wombscholars and downdumbees cannot be relied on to handle hard or marginal cases well. Wally Wingnut and Cindy from Wasilla have never been allowed to look upon GOPT®F bare, after all. They are quite clear that they ought to cheer for GOPT®F, and doubtless they wish to cheer for it even harder in this oil-black hour of apparent need. But what are the kiddies to cheer, exactly?

The correct textbook answer is easy enough to accomodate to the meanest intelligence of kiddie selfservatism, say,

Bee Pee! Bee Pee! / Leakin’ Oil is Liberty!! / RAAAAH!!!

Of course you must see how that won’t quite do the trick, Dr. Bones. But let us be clear about why not. Or rather, about the various levels of reasons why not.

(0) Master Wally and Mizz Cindy won’t be cheerin’ that cheer or anythin’ equivalent because they really and truly do not grasp that GOPT®F entails it. For reasons too obvious to discuss at length, wombschoolers and invigilators at the various hatcheries deliberately inculcate the notion that GOPT®F has somethin’ nontrivial to do with the rank-and-file Party base and vile. To expect Wally and Cindy to fall on their wallets for the Hayward classes with full awareness of what is actually goin’ on would be absurd. The ideological neowomb must spare them THAT awful realization, perhaps more than any other single glimpse of the former Real World.

Hath not Comrade Frank of Kansas explained all these things?

The Frank explanations are necessarily general, however, and do not of themselves indicate what the Party of Grant & Hoover operative is to incite Wally and Cindy to holler just at present. That is where a Neocomrade (j. g.) M. X. Patterson ought to come in. As you can see, the cub gives it a college try, so to speak, but loses a couple of yards on the play.

(1) MXP is a doubtful juvenile neospecimen, but we can assume that most full-grown PG&H agitators and propagandists more or less know what they are doin’. Accordingly, they find themselves temporarily in basically the same plight that their Party Neocomrade Rand Minor of KY is in all the time: honesty is by no means the best policy when it comes to defendin’ Freelord Hayward and Bee Pee (or the Planet Dilbert theory of public accomodations and the Wicked State).

If all the world were Foxcuckooland and everybody in it sincerely addicted to GOPT®F taken straight up, no defense would be necessary. The divine right of Big Management to bigmanage would not be questioned merely because of a little perfluctus originalis from time to time. Kiddies and weaker siblin’s might grumble against GOPT®F from time to time, the same way Wally and Cindy might grumble against a thunderstorm when they happen to want to have a picnic, with a very tame grumblin’ that certainly does not mean that the kiddies have started thinkin’ unorthodox thoughts about the Omnipotence™ and All-Benevolence™ of Father Zeus, Compeller of Clouds.

I daresay life would be far easier for the Party-an’-AEIdeology apologist if kiddie selfservatism could just be converted into old-fashioned Enthusiasm and Superstition wholesale. That little trick once accomplishes, Freelord Hayward and the crew at BP would qualify for all (or at least most) of the special allowances and double-thinkin’s and special pleadin’s presently accorded Dr. Ratzinger and the VC crowd without anybody batting an eye. M. de Rome is not Father Zeus in person, but rumours about a special relationship between the two of them are quite sufficient to check and balance pretty well everybody this side of Party Neocomrade Ch. X. Hitchens.

Alas, the AEIdeology radically does not lend itself to vaticanisation. The whole P&I m’gillâ" would have to be rewritten, from the Gospel of St. Adam all the way down through the Cocktail Napkin Apocalypse, to accomodate the (now) utterly heretical neodogma that particular persons can enjoy a Zeus-Ratzinger-like special relationship with Mlle. de la Main Invisible.

Of course in one sense those who win the lottery are Her favorites and Freelord Mammon’s. Verbally, one could call lottery-winnin’ a "special relationship" with Their Freelordships Above. Even, maybe, speak of the "divine election and predestination" of lottery winners. But such borrowed verbiage and plumage signally fails to smoothe over the crack in the ontotheological [2] wallpaper. If the words really meant the same thing in the AEIdeology as in the former Christojudæanity -- that is, if Mme. de la Main Invisible be reconceived as havin’ individual pets as opposed to a generic class of pets -- then obviously the fix would be in and one could speak of a ‘lottery’ or ‘market’ only out of courtesy, genuine or sarcastic.[3]

When Her Freeladyship Above’s apologists and seconds and bottle-washers have happier narratives than the Bee Pee Saga to chant, they can and do appeal to this radical secularism and un- or anti-religionism of the AEIdeology. Master Wally and Mizz Cindy are extremely unlikely ever to win big at Le Grand Casino des Événements Humaines, yet it is not absolutely impossible that they might. Such has ever been the burden of Schlesinger Minor’s Whig pastoral. That is what Mr. Arnold was making sport of when he spoofed -- spoofed just a bit too much, as usual -- about “Ever remember, my dear Dan, that you should look forward to being some day manager of that concern!"

But what avails that thoroughly traditional snake oil now? Imagine Wally Wingnut checkin’ the number on his bettin’ slip and discoverin’ that he has just won a license to pollute the Gulf of Mexico without stint or limit! Unless the prize is transferable and he can sell it to somebody like Freelord Hayward, I doubt poor Wally would think he had won anythin’ much to brag about.

Pari passu, the trouble for Party-an’-Ideology spinsters like Neocomrade (j.g.) M. X. Patterson is that Wally and Cindy will not much care whether Bee Pee and Freelord Hayward possesses such a license or not. Such concern of that sort as they can muster (for I assume their wombschoolin’ will have wired in at least some tendency towards a disinterested pity for poor little rich corporations and the Big Managers thereof) may not manage compete successfully against a deluge of pictures of oilslicked birds &c. &c.

Our junior birdman for GOP & AEI does not expressly notice the oilslicked bird menace, an omission that I incline to attribute to incompetence rather than the reverse. Had the cub thought of that angle, he would have tossed in some steel-claptrap-minded boilerplate against bleedin’-heart environmentalist whackos. ’Tis a mere accident that a past master of the Goebbels School curriculum would probably not mention it either, havin’ calculated that it would be better the dupes and marks thought about concrete and picturesque details of perfluctus originalis as little as possible. [4]

However the great difference between somebody competent and Neocomrade (j. g.) M. X. Patterson is unquestionably that the former would not have offered Cindy and Wally two completely different distractions from what Party and AEIdeology want theor base and vile distracted from. The kiddies should be set to thinkin’ EITHER ’bout "the dangers and complexities ... [required] to bring forth the lubricant that greases the gears of our civilization" OR ’bout the Bartlettisms that cluster around that undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns

Neocomrade M. X. Patterson, the neosorcerer’s apprentice, as it were, wants to work both these spells at once. That is overreachin’, and ’twill serve the cub right if he gets no results at all.

¡Healthy days!


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[1] Perfluctus originalis at work before our very eyes, Dr. Bones, is everything implied by that little phrase "problems of success."!

(( You’ll have to bear with me this morning, sir, if I seem a lot more interested in my own stuff than in the shoddy wares of Neocomrade (j. g.) M. X. Patterson. Trying to work out how a competent alumnus of the Joseph Goebbels School of Agitation, Propaganda and Public Diplomacy would set to work on behalf of Hayward et al. is vastly more fun (and at least a littl more valuable) than wading though M. X. P.’s sophomore blue book with a redstate pencil.


[2] That unnecessary coinage is so silly and so unnecessary that I wish I had thought of it myself.


[3] The only objection I can think of to myself off-hand is that famous apology or self-panegyric of Freelord Rockefeller Major, "The Good Lord gave me my money."

Sed respondeo that his freelordship did not even begin to speculate WHY the grant in question was made. Furthermore, had somebody from the lamestream media of 1929 asked whether his freelordship would agree that all lottery winners were entitled to say the same, I betcha he would have acknowledged that they are.

But Mammon knows best.


[4] Perhaps the comrades over at Media Matters will examine RupertNews contra mundum as regards pictorial representation of what Bee Pee hath wrought in the way of oilslicked flora and fauna? I detest Planet MacL@@han and the Y@@ T@@B far to heartily to do it myself, but somebody ought to.