Dear Dr. Bones,
(( Please make a memorandumb of the acronym TM-INLTO as elucidated below and place it in the "Exceptionalism, Self-, (of neocomrades)" dossier for possible future deployment. ))
Sir Tristan -- that’s Neocomrade (Fourth Class) T. X. Yates to you, sir -- professes to be in like Flynn with his ostended deity, Lord Mammon. For pajamatarian and yaleodramatic purposes, Sir Tristan is represented as "a management and investment analyst."
Over chez soi , where, by the way, the sky happens to be a profoundly regrettable [1] shade of purple, the discoverer may discover the "Yates Management" neocorporate person, a "[c]onsultin[’] company" which "focuses on analytics, process, and project management" and blurbs itself as bein’ "just like all of the other management consulting companies except for two things. We actually have people with management experience, and we actually study management."
Plainly kiddie selfservatives and other intellectual or ethical cripples can trust Sir Tristam, for he is not like the others !
Myself, I always wonder a little what those badmouthed anonymous ‘others’ have to say about this self-servicin’ antithesis, so worthy in almost every way of your honourable-&-gallant knight of Party an’ AEIdeology. Except, perhaps, that TM-INLTO is not very -comradely. Indeed, it eats the very Hell out of TopPercenter solidarity, TM-INLTO does.
On the other hand, the kiddies targeted have been successfully wombschooled and niedergedümmt and foxcuckooed to the point of not noticin’ anythin’ fishy about neogents like Sir Tristan assurin’ ’em that the incomparable and ever-immortal [3] Freelordly System -- only an enemy or enemy-useful idiot would speak of Finanzkapitalismus in any language -- is the best of all possible Systems, even though pretty near everybody in it, present company once excepted, is more or less a crook.
I daresay that, too, is an old song. Or reasonably old, insofar as Century XII/XVIII/LV seems to have been full of palæoboobs and protowingnuts who really did believe devoutly in what M. de Voltaire intended as travesty: "This is the best of all possible worlds! And furthermore, everything in it is a necessary evil." [4]
In addition to these generic doubts about the Round Table of Mammon, I have some reservations about Sir Tristan in particular, whose neocredentials may not be entirely in order. Especially worrisome is a passage like
| We elected our officials to solve our nation’s problems, the foremost of which is the weak economy. They asked us to give them these responsibilities so that they could exercise their leadership and judgment. In the course of their workday, they meet with government officials, captains of industry, and foreign leaders. |
Would a bonâ fide kiddiemaster talk like that, sir? Or even one of the true kiddiemasters’ hired hands at the Tanks of Thought? Is not this paragraphette pervaded by a naïveté unlikely to afflict either an actual practitioner of Freelordly Systematics or the sort of ‘conservative’ ‘intellectual’ señorito who takes money for preachin’ in the abstract and without personal hands-on experience what Lord Mammon wants preached?
Possibly I attach too much importance to the small phrase "captains of industry," which is comparable to "Twenty-three skidoo!", up-to-date-in-Kansas-City-wise. Plus it sounds like the late Miss Rand of Petersburg havin’ one of her St. Teresa (or Molly Bloom) moments about John, Freelord Galt. "Captains of industry," forsooth!: fancy Citizen Blankfein of the Goldman-Saxons talkin’ about himself -- or even about his tribe’s competitors -- like that!
But the naïveté of Sir Tristan runs far deeper than his gush, for the neogent is pleased to expose his whole theory of the Wicked State, and it is not a theory that takes well to exposure. Sir Tristan sounds, to the present coarse and illiterate keyboard, like Clarabelle the clown expoundin’ the dark insights of Party Neocomrade R. B. Cheney, Freemaster Halliburton and Viceroy to George XLIII of wretched memory. As every nonwombschoolboy knows, Cheneyanity consists essentially in executivitarianism [5], a neodogma which can, I suppose, be loosely described as "give them responsibilities so that they can exercise their leadership and judgment" without positive inaccuracy. A writer less loosey-goosey than Sir Tristan would add expressis verbis that the transfer of responsibilities is irrevocable, that Big Management is not to be impertinently cross-examined about what it does with the powers entrusted. Once duly empowered by the batrachian community, King Stork is answerable to nobody, entirely irresponsible and not to be held to account by any mechanism much short of tyrannicide.
That is a pretty silly neodogma, and I have spoofed it as such myself before now, pretending that Cheneyanity is exactly what one would expect from alumnuses of the H*rv*rd Victory School[6], because your typical secret-sector business corporation has a very obvious Executive Branch with scarcely any hint of a legislature or judiciary. That was spoof when I proposed it. When Sir Tristan proposes it, it is what I have already labeled ‘naïveté.’
’Tis not, however, his wannabe freelordship’s most flagrant naïveté. That prize must be reserved for his notion that the holy-Homelanders™ have actually agreed to be ruled as if they were shareholders and as if the United States of America were a sort of Acne Widget Trust LLC writ large.
I doubt not that Sir Tristan sincerely believes his own stuff, but let’s face it, Dr. Bones, to believe stuff like that makes one a dingaling. Even by Foxcuckooland’s very forgivin’ standards, I fear, such stuff is dingalingery.
(( Flat-out gossip and ad hominem are fun too, but I’ll be brief so as not to look like Ione that wallows in self-indulgence. I betcha Sir Tristan does not actually bigmanage anythin’ much except other people’s portfoliettos. THAT is the ‘industry’ of which our knight of lucre is a ‘captain’. As the proverb says, "Paper will stand anything," and there is nothing I know of to prevent Clarabelle the clown or, say, the late Citizen Madoff, or anybody else, from settin’ up to take five percent from dupes and marks in return for tellin’ ’em what to do with the other ninety-five percent.
(( Nice work if you can get it, I guess, but to tart it up verbally as Industry, as if one were a John D. or an Andy Carnégie? Kindly include me out! ))
And I wish you, sir,
Happy and healthy and affordable and tristanfree days.
___
[1] Dear Rio Limbaugh, / I don’t know much about your Picture People values, but one does not need to be Perfesser MacL@@han to know what one no sooner sees than detests. / As ever, / JHM
[2] Notice, Dr. Bones, that my picking up the "Trust me! I’m not like the others" shtyk by that end implies that Neocomrade (Ninth Class) H. L. Carr, whose shtyk it is -- or at least H. Louis holds the TM-INLTO franchise for Eastern Massachusetts -- really is a little different from the rest of the neolemmin’ly pack.
[3] The Freelordly System is ever-immortal ex hypothesi for those who feign the hypotheses of Neocomrade F. Y. Fukuyama, Freelord and Kiddiemaster Stopstory in the peerage of Wingnut City. I have been told that Master Frankie has changed his mind about it, but the woods are still full of weaker siblin’s who remain loyal.
[4] If one looks back much beyond the imperishable glories of A. R. 1100/1688/5448, Pangloss disappears from the history of thought in Old Europe almost without a trace. Presumably as long as hereditary Superstition and Enthusiasm were still hitting on all cylinders, the was no noëtic niche available for the optimism product. But Father Zeus knows best.
I do not recall off-hand any writers of the Éclaircissement who expressly exempted "present company" from the taint of evil necessity. But perhaps the self-dispensation went without saying, given peccatum originale?
[5] Those who (pretend to) believe in this snake oil refer to it in a more dignified way as "the unitary executive theory."
[6] The former Allston (Massachusetts) College of Chirurgy and Barber Science.
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