Dear Dr. Bones,
_M. le Baron de ‘Spengler’_ is an old semi-acquaintance, one of the few virtual Hongkonghites one knows well enough to recognize again. Exactlty what Virtual Hongkonghia may has to do with the A.R.E., Arab Republic of Egypt, is an interesting, perhaps even an alarming, question. 
Whatever else may be goin’ on here, certainly there is lots an’ lots of whight-wing internationalism. I think--let’s start with nomenclature, ¿shall we?--we should call spenglerisin’ something like W.W.I. rather than plain old vanilla ‘globalism’, a term that always makes me think first (1) of little Tommy Wobble with the big moustache and then (2) start fingering my revolver, or whatever that is in my pocket. Ninety-nine percent of Homeland™ whightists think Tommy is one of us, a Lieberal Demoncrat of some sort, which by it self is a splendid tribute to the efficacy of wombschoolin’ an’ freedumbin’ down. Tommy *did* have certain advantage in Life denied to Wally Wingnut an’ Cindy from Wasilla, like GGP and that whole service of sterling flatware removed from his digestive tract shortly after birth, but . . . .
I digress. The thing is, ‘globalism’ comes with lots of neobaggage attached to it, whereas ‘internationalism’ lost all its suitcases and carpetbags years ago: "¿Who now reads Thomas Woodrow Wilson?" We can now start over whight from scratch with ‘internationalism’. At first, no doubt, we will have to insist on the neoreactionary (Spengleroid) complexion of the ideoproduct almost every time it is alluded to, but eventually the epithet will drop away. This is what happened with the former "political economy," for instance: the dismalness did not get less political as it darkened, on the contrary, it got so totally political that there was nothing left for the P-word to mark a boundary with.
Bein’ a furriner, _M. le Baron_ can say certain things that would still give offense in the mouth of a Homeland™ic, like for example that real fun title of his freelordship’s, "Lootin’ the Egyptian Currency: Democracy in Action."
Out on Hongkonghia, you understand, lootin’ an’ democracy not only have about the same low prestige, but are in serious danger of not bein’ distinguished at all.  
 Every worrier retains the freedumb to worry about possible e-Hongkonghian designs on Rio Limbaugh FL, say, or on Pajama Junction NJ. Myself, I say "¿Who cares?" Should Foo Man ‘Spengler’ manage to buy all their real estate out from under the yocals, maybe those holes will stop lookin’ like the parts of the junk yard that failed to congeal into an airliner when Hurricane Crawford hit back in 2008."
 Approximately. Round numbers good enough for "Occupy Televisionland" ought to be good enough for us. I mean, ¿what are we, sir, stinking elitists?
 All whight-wing internationalists (Spengleroids) must, I think, be taken to be Lootless Cosmopolitans until the contrary has been safely demonstrated beyond doubt. Even then, perhaps one should find a different L-word for it when they do it. ‘Lucky’ comes to mind at once, but of course that would be the mind of the present keyboard that it comes to, rather than the dittopan of a Spengleroid. Their freelordships (at least the Homeland™ic ones) do not much care bein’ called ‘Lucky. Or for that matter ‘Ace’ or ‘Slim’ or anythin’ else that might suggest their freelordships specuvest an’ investulate in plebeian poker rather than in financial instruments not understanded of the smallpeople.
 Bein’, as I said, a furriner, his freelordship very genteelly abstains from takin’ any cheap shots at the _Heimatland G*ttes_. ¿What homebrew pajamaclad could scribble words like
|[T]he Egyptian mob wants to help itself to the contents of armored cars, considering that the Egyptian press and blogs have reported for months that the country’s leaders are stealing rice, diesel oil, propane, and other commodities whose distribution is controlled by state companies. If everyone is stealing, why shouldn’t the man in the street get his share, too?|
without instantly pointin’ out that all this is but a pale imitation an’ rip-off of the "Occupy Televisionland" show an’ of the Ponzi Security Administration?
One would have to be blind, of course, not to notice that his freelordship is agitproppin’ to make the holy Homeland™ more like his own e-Hongkonghia, tryin’. I mean, to disabuse Master Wally an’ Mizz Cindy of the pernicious notion that lingers in their dittopans, even despite all wombschoolin’ an’ despite countless daily séances with Party Neocomrade Dr. R. H. Limbaugh, that Democracy is somehow not quite as bad as lootin’. Unlike most of his freelordship’s Yank counterparts, _M. le baron de ‘Spengler’_ knows better than to yank too hard at the beginnin’ of the course of therapy. "Softly, softly, catchee monkey" -- when Wally an’ Cindy finally *do* see the whight an’ become consciously antidemocratic as well as illiberal, they are to suppose that they figured everythin´ whighteous out for themselves.
That arrangement is much more satisfactory from the agitation-and-propaganda viewpoint because if Master Wally were to say "I read about Hate-Democracy-First in Freddy von Hayek" an’ then Mizz Cindy echoes "‘Spengler’ told me about HD1 last year as an unexpected Exmas present," the HDF meme is much less likely to go pandemic. At Rio Limbaugh an’ Pajama Junction, "not invented here" (frankly admitted, that is, for of course hardly anything actually *was* invented ‘here’) is almost certain to stop an ideoproduct dead in its tracks. Though I am far from understanding the psychology of this sales resistance in full, I assume that wombschooled Wally ferociously dislikes findin’ himself painted into a corner where somebooby else--a particular Party neocomrade whose name is remembered an’ might be mentioned, though naturally it will not be--has every whight to bark "¡I told you so!"
Most of the amateur Conners of Kiddies over to Pajama Junction seem to have a sort of colourblind thumb when it comes to agitproppin’ for whighteousness. They are so ungood at meme diffusion that one laughs from them. Here we have a far-fetched freelordship who evidently understands how to do it whight, which make him more of a danger, I suppose, but also much more instructive. Better recreation as well.
As St. Winnie of the Dardanelles well said on a similar occasion: We have a very daring and skillful opponent against us, and, may I say across the havoc of war, a great general."
’Tis no accident, though, that when the _padjama du jour_ turns out to be competent for once, it should be a freelordship of whom one has actually heard before.
I fear the World’s Greatest YaleoDrama™ist is himself black of thumb when it comes to runnin’ a farm team for the Foxcuckooland Foghorns. The best of Squire Simon-Pajama’s particular neofriends an’ _protégés_, goodvolks who exist as whightist agitproppers only thanks to PJM, are undoubtly the sub-Cincinnatian Th. X. Blumer an’ Don Ricardito de Fernández y Podhòretz. This, however, is a very restricted an’ specialized sort of ‘best’ in at least two respects: (1) though McTrickledown likes them well enough, they are rather like the music of the late Herr von Dvorak in that McTD likes them much better than any general consensus can reasonably be expected to endorse.
And (2), their attraction is mostly their socio-economico-factional exemplariness. The gruesome twosome do not, in fact, agitprop particularly well, they are certainly not to be mentioned with _M le baron de ‘Spengler’_ in the same breath as technicians, but they do, in McTD’s judgment, cast a great deal of whight on who the Daughters of Virtue & Sons of Wisdon, LLC, are, an’ on where’ these freevolks are comin’ from.
Naturally Freelord ‘Spengler’ comes from too far away for a neocomradologist of central North America to take much professional interest. In the improbable event that e-Hongkonghia diagnoses Egypt whight an’ prescribes treatment that cures the patient, that would be great for Egyptians (maybe), but ought to raise scarcely a ripple in these parts. ¡Fancy Master Wally, that stout detester of "¡I told you so!", reactin’ to the advice that he an’ Mizz Cindy should take the same Murti-Bing® pills that worked for towelhead _falláhín_! I mean, "¿How unwhighteous would THAT be?
The Muses and thou, O Bones, and I would get a kick out of reflecting, safe up here in our Poison Ivory Tower, that ‘Spengler’ would have more than earned his _nom de guerre_. ¿What could be more illustrative of an _Untergang des Abendlandes_ than for the heathen Chinee (release 4.1) to solve Egypt without either quack or patient passin’ through the Western Sieve at any point? If a world that can get better without any assistance from Wunnerful US does not constitute D*CL*N*, that _verbum innominabile inter quondam Christojudæanos_, I cannot imagine what would.
But I betcha Wally an’ Cindy would shrug it off, if they noticed it at all. Like global warmin’, DCLN would not be actually happenin’, ¡not at Hooverville or Rio Limbaugh/Port Ste. Lucie! After all, ¿Hath not Karl, Firstlord an' Kiddiemaster Rove, vouchsafed that
|That is not the way the world really works anymore. WE are an Empire now, and when WE act, WE create OUR OWN reality. And while you’re studying that reality -- judiciously, as you will -- WE will act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. WE are history’s actors . . . and you, all of you, will be left to just study what WE do. (( &c. &c.))|
"Left to just study," I expect Cairo and Kowloon would "judiciously" play hooky for all they are worth, but that will not be a neoreality inside the confines of the Holy Rovan Empire of the Whightwing Nation, where "not invented here" has at last become *absolutely* identical with ‘nonexistent’.
But Oswald knows best.