Dear Dr. Bones,
Your portrait, sir, at _URL cit._ is more than usually to the point. Someday we shall have to discuss how you folks feel about enlargement of the membership of your club by physical violence amongst us predead.
But first things first, for here is Don Ricardito de Fernández y Podhòretz again, who seems to have become the utility Party-pooper of Pajama Junction NJ. Presumably our secret-sectorian Betters do not draw up formal written contracts of neopatronage an’ neoclientship. We can’t reasonably expect that, say, a discovery by M. d’Assange et Cie. will someday allow us to know the exact cahoots obtainin’ as between the Señto. de F. y P. and Neocomrade R. L. Simon, Freelord Padjaama in the peerage of Foxcuckooland.[1] But it sure *looks* as if the inferior party has been licensed to say pretty well anythin’ it likes that Wally Wombschool an’ Cindy from Wasilla probably won’t like -- that F&P holds more or less the position that Comrade Frank of KA held over at The Wall Street Jingo until -- as I reconstruct ab externo_ -- some colonial stickler pointed out to the Firstlord of Murdoch that our North American Heimatland Gottes his much less relish for the clever arguments of heretics an’ infidels than Gloomy Gus of Hippo, or the natives his freelordship’s aboriginal Kangaroostan.
Specifically, then, Don Ricardito has poured the followin’ sort of cold water into the selfservative kiddies’ pajama soup:
| [I]t seems fairly evident that any attempts to portray Loughner as a Tea Party activist, Communist, Anarchist, Left winger, Right winger, Republican or Democrat are probably not meaningful. From what evidence is available, Jared Lee Loughner was nuttier than a fruitcake. |
To be sure, that conventional sort of niceynice is so much like
The chances that they will comply with the hired-hand señorito’s recommendation are about zero. Wombschoolin’ an’ freedumbin’-down would reveal themselves as utterly impotent, were Wally an’ Cindy not quite certain that scarcely a single fruitcake on G*re’s green earth carries the card of America’s Otherparty, whereas naturally if you’re talkin’ ’bout Lieberals an’ Demoncrats . . . !
Well, you know *that* drool, sir: "It’s a jungle out there." Outside The Womb™, in fact, it’s *all* Fruitcake Jungle. I know you like extinct languages better, Dr. Bones, as very naturally you would, so let us make a memorandumb of the point as Extra UTE®UM nulla sanitas.[2]
Wingnutettes an’ wingnuts take for granted, then that the distribution of fruitcakery on earth does not look a bit like the ever-immortal Herrnstein-Murray ©u®ve™ . Or like the E-I HM©™ turned upside down, with lots of data points off east and west, hardly any in the middle of the road to keep that yellow stripe an’ the dead armadillos from gettin’ lonely. [3] Fruitcake is, in Foxcuckoofact, distributed exactly the same way as Original Sin: you either (A) ain’t got any, or else (B) you’re obviously not one of Us Wunnerful an’ we don’ wan’ nothin’ to do with you.
(( A "two-step step function" I think the physics envious would call this scheme: the value of the Inverse Fruitcake Function is -1 everywhere left of the Why Axis, but +1 in all the more respectable neighnorhoods. But Gauss knows best. ))
Still, though freedumbin’ down has made great strides of late, so that it is now very safe to assume that Wally an’ Cindy have no more notion of the former _peccatum originale_ than of rocket surgery or brain science, I wager The Womb™ is not yet so well sound-proofed that they have never once encountered the formula "There, but for the favour of Father Zeus, go I." To suppose that the selfservative kiddies *believe* in any such stale an’ wimpish tripe would be absurd. Nevertheless, few of ’em have yet advanced so far in the path of Party an’ AEIdeology as to guffaw at it the way it theoretically [4] deserves to be guffawed at.
This is why I said that bein’ nagged by a Fernández y Podhòretz like this probably reminds the kiddies of icky School: they don’t want to hear that pious tedium, but they would just be makin’ trouble for their neoselves if they took evasive action, let alone active countermeasures.
***
So far on the assumption that the _nuevoseñorito_ sincerely believes its own stuff, which is, as almost always, by far the most likely thing to suppose.
It seems to me at least slightly suspicious, however, that F&P should not mention the possibility thar Arizenophobia may have played a rôle in these all-too-human events. That was own first or second reaction, and it would be remarkable, I think, if a Party-an’-Ideology agitpropper who spends so much time an’ bandwidth pesterin’ the neocomrades to be nicer to Juanita an’ José than they spontaneously wannabe simply never thought of the Latino / Hispanic / Crimmigrant / ‘Spaniard’ / Criminalien / Iberian / Huntin’tonioClashist angle.
I betcha, Dr. Bones, that at this point both I and Don Ricardito can no more think of AZ-48 without ¡Ship ’em all straight back to Boca Grande! than of OZ in a greenfree black-and-white. Or of AK-49 minus former Governess Heath-Paling, and polar bears, and oil spills.
These are but mental icons and idols, of course, and accordingly of no probativity whatever outside Foxcuckooland and maybe Vatican City. As psychological occurences, though, they do happen to come to pass and may still, as far as I know, be referred to in intellectually respectable circles as long as they are not mistaken for arguments.
And I wish you, sir,
Happy Days (through affordable healthcare)
___
[1] Did I mention that RLS is ¡¡The World’s Premiere YaleoDramatist!! ?
[2] To spoof more exactly about "_nulla SALUS_" would clash us up against Lord Prof. Dr. Bloom of Neohaven’s American Religion, a not-bad idea not worked out satisfactorily.
[3] Dr. Alzheimer has warned me to lay off the hard math, but I can still window shop a little, right? It appears that some fruitcake comrade of Unser Klassenkampf has decided to swipe the H-M thingee, pervert it 180 degrees bottom-to-top, and then try to make a Big New Deal about what he calls a "Well Curve".
(( The Señto. de Fernández y Podhòretz should be advised that the Fruitcake Plague has reached San Diego CA. Had reached it already by August 2003, actually. ))
[4] Big LEW explains the neotheory of the matter here. Chicagonomics-for-Dummies always gives this coarse and illiterate keyboard a severe keyache, but possibly you can make something of it.
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