Blimp Shoots Neoself Down in Flames!

Dear Dr. Bones,

A blimp is a terrible thing to lose!

(( I mean, if you can lose a whole blimp, what is there that you CAN keep track of? ))

And when that blimp you just lost was you, your ownneoself!

Think of the yaleodrama of it, Dr. Bones! Le Chagrin et la Pitié!! "Brother, can you spare an obol for Belisarius?"

Alas, poor Victor! he’s played the kiddie selfservatives’ Destructive Creationism™ game way too long and far too well. Startin’ out as the the only geistlicher Militärist in captivity, Party Neocomrade V. D. Hanson, Freelord and Rear-Colonel Blimp in the peerage of Foxcuckooland, comes down at last to this, all gasbags shredded, all dignity gone with the helium, down, down relentlessly, all the way down to the level of Neocomrade (Fourth Class) H. L. Carr and "You can trust me; I’m not like the others."

Blimp in ultimate neodesperation -- or maybe it’s just Alzheimer’s? -- sets up to pander to the kiddies and the neokiddies and the wombscholars and the downdumbees as bein’ the tertiary-educationalist who will reveal to them from the inside why tertiary educationalism sucks. Their Neocomrade Herr Prof. Dr. Fu’ád al-‘Ajamí of the Johns Hopkins University performs this same function for one major cohort of Natives overseas; their Neocomrade Assistant Justice C. X. Thomas, for a ditto of the Bad Poor here in the holy Homeland™.

Blimp ain’t a bit like them other perfessers, Dr. Bones: for one thing, he shills for America’s Otherparty. More importantly, Blimp really CAN park a bicycle striaght. Should you invite him to address your local chapter of the Vast Whitewing Conspiracy , sir, I betcha Blimp would be happy to demonstrate his vehicular neocompetence -- provided you suppy the bicycle and increase his dishonorarium a couple hundred.

This self-dishonourin’ is so acutely distressing that I can stand to contemplate it not a nanosecond more.

***

So let’s talk more generally about why the Party of Grant and Hoover an’ Goldwater ’n’ Atwater & ... should demand such self-sacrifices from their dhimmies.

Foxcuckooland subjects who really belong to the WASP God Folk (or who cannot be reliably (85%) distinguished from True Belongers at twenty paces in bright sunlight) get a free pass, but if anybooby can see at a glance that you are not a Freelord Horsa or a Kiddiemaster Hengist or a sound and vouched-for Party Neocomrade G. F. Babbitt from the Zenith chapter of the VWWC, you must go through that Howiecarrite TM-INLTO fandango to be admitted to that Big Tent that the G.O.P. geniuses and their agitproppers get such a kick [1] out of alludin’ to. ’Tis the moral equivalent of a strip search, begorrah! of taking off one shoes at holy shrines like mosques and airports.

What on G*re’s green earth makes America’s Otherparty behave like that, sir? At least a few ‘conservative’ ‘intellectual’ señoritos know enough mathematics to work out the long-term consequences: 110% of the ‘America’ that looks like Oilslick Dick Cheney’s family Exxonmas card plus two or three percent of everybody else is not likely to prove a winnin’ strategy in the 2048 elections, especially when the TM-INLTO shtyk is bound to infuriate more than a few of the residual ninety-odd percent who fall in various subpigeonholes of the Bad Poor.

I see I have just written that as if nobody whom the Kiddie Selfservative Movement has honoured with a mention on Rupert’s List were anythin’ but poor. Obviously it is not so, one need look no farther than the good rear-colonel, who may, in his present autoneodegenerate condition, feel it incumbent upon him to disassociate himself from Faculty Club badness, but whose dynasty has owned half of Death Valley (or whatever) since they grabbed it from the drybacks (as they then were) fair an’ square back in 1848 (or whenever). [2]

Well, OK, ho gegrapha, gegrapha. Stet!

For I really do start by assuming that the TopPercenters -- all those freedames and freelords and kiddiemistresses and kiddiemasters of the Party of Grant, the paymasters and AstroTurf™baggers of the KSM -- have sold themselves to Lord Mammon. Naturally they never actually signed a parchment in their own blood as if they were Dr. Faustus. For that matter, their own pet neomythology makes such a proceedin’ unimaginable: neogentry who think of His Lordship, their Owner, as Mlle. de la Main Invisible are not likly to notice that anybody owns them, let alone have a document to prove it.

Allegorice, the Party-an’-AEIdeology neogentry (as I figure them) have a hard time thinkin’ anythin’ but poverty really bad, though they do recognize a second-order badness of the sort which Rear-Col. Blimp here struggles to purge huimself of, the ancillary badness of a Little Master Victor, rich enough himself, supposin’ that there exists some other sort of good an’ bad in Foxcuckooland than Lord Mammon’s sort. Master Victor was extremely eccentric (and interesting) back when he supposed that Mars and Bellona might preside over a superior set of values.

His second self-treason is far less remarkable, but treason it remains, because it can scarcely be supposed that Blimp all along understood bein’ a perfesser to entail no more than doin’ vocational trainin’ for His Lordship. Or even just credentializin’ up-and-comin’ Big Managers. If Blimp did not at some point in his ruinous career believe in the Rev. Mr. Newman of Oxford’s Knowledge its own end, then feel free, Dr. Bones, to address me as "Marie of Roumania." [3]

And I wish you, sir,
Happy days through affordable healthcare.

___
[1] Definitely a non-sarcastic kick. As almost always in politics, Party-of-Grant dingalings believe in their own dingalingery with full subjective sincerity. They really do account that Otherparty bigtop of theirs BIG. If anythin’, maybe it is too big.

And so it is, historically speaking: imagine (say) Neocomrade Speaker N. L. Gingrich tryin’ to explain to the martyred General Hamilton down in [exp. del.] how the Otherparty -- prescriptively all of them the Daughters of Virtue and Sons of Wisdom (LLC) -- has degenerated into a miscellaneous riff-raff that includes even folks like _________. Not to mention ________! Plus now the TopPercenter Party barks an’ bellows against l’élitisme en Amérique in season and out.

If the alternative had been to live three centuries and see what the Otherparty racket would turn into, St. Alexander the Beastslayer might consider that Mr. Burr did him a big favour.


[2] OK, sure, I make up my facts. Wanna make something of it? Freelord Blimp is definitely a hereditary landlord ("agricultural entrpreneur" in Hooverspeak, I guess) of some sort.


[3] As a garlic milkshake to Count Dracula, so is stuff like

I am asked what is the end of University Education, and of the Liberal or Philosophical Knowledge which I conceive it to impart: I answer, that what I have already said has been sufficient to show that it has a very tangible, real, and sufficient end, though the end cannot be divided from that knowledge itself. Knowledge is capable of being its own end. Such is the constitution of the human mind, that any kind of knowledge, if it be really such, is its own reward. And if this is true of all knowledge, it is true also of that special Philosophy, which I have made to consist in a comprehensive view of truth in all its branches, of the relations of science to science, of their mutual bearings, and their respective values. What the worth of such an acquirement is, compared with other objects which we seek,--wealth or power or honour or the conveniences and comforts of life, I do not profess here to discuss; but I would maintain, and mean to show, that it is an object, in its own nature so really and undeniably good, as to be the compensation of a great deal of thought in the compassing, and a great deal of trouble in the attaining.

to Lord Mammon.

(( BTW, if little Master Victor had really been the Horatio Alger sprout that he must now think that he ought to have been, surely he would never have joined the late Perfesser Nietzsche in the Class. Phil. swindle?

(( But Apollo knows best ))