Posted on November 21st, 2008 by Gavin M.
Doop-de-doop, mindin’ my own business, readin’ National Review.
Cruise Review [Jonah Goldberg]
Many thanks to Katie at KabukiVillage for her very flattering write-up of the NR Cruise and yours truly. There are pictures from the sea, for those interested.
Oh right, it’s time again for the National Review Cruise, a font of humor that comes often to the leftward side of the Internet and that, I’m sorry, is simply never any less funny than the time before. Pirates! Lifeboat cannibalism! Stewards slinking from K-Lo’s cabin with shoes in hand! The pool scene from Caddyshack!
Johann Hari’s piece on the July, 2007 cruise is currently the one of record, and personally, as such things go, my favorite National Review Cruise is always the next one. But let’s see what Katie-at-KabukiVillage has to say.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you….and it is just more fun
When I bought Jonah Goldberg’s book, Liberal Fascism, months ago, it would have been much easier to buy it in suburbia. But I waited…waited until I knew I would be in Manhattan for the day…a day when I could purchase it at the book store at Grand Central (making sure to ask the clerk where it was even though it was on a table in the center of the store…just because I knew it would drive the guy nuts) and could then carry it throughout my day of meetings.
Passive aggressive? You betcha (h/t Gov. Palin); and a whole lot of fun. Yes, yes, I would keep Freud very busy.
Whoah, not so fast there! For those who didn’t catch the reference, ‘Freud’ is the psychology guy who liked to figure out crazy people. It’s great to spice up your lingo with trivia references, but fair or not, people do judge you by the words you use. And confusing is never effective! So before you drop an apple core in the trash basket and say “Watch out, Sir Isaac Newton,” you might want to “get a brain, Einstein,” and let your audience off the bang I just shot myself through the head.
[end credits, commercial for Sham-Wow with the young carnival-barker guy wearing the headset, FreeCreditReport.com commercial with the guy on the bicycle, promo for upcoming holiday episode of Stargate: Atlantis, roll opening credits]
Hi, it’s me again. We’re moving too fast. Let’s back up.
But I waited…waited until I knew I would be in Manhattan for the day…a day when I could purchase it at the book store at Grand Central (making sure to ask the clerk where it was even though it was on a table in the center of the store…just because I knew it would drive the guy nuts) and could then carry it throughout my day of meetings.
This is the personality type that voted for Bush in 2000 to “stick it to the liberals,” and then voted for Bush in 2004 wetting their pants over the global foreign Islam terror jihad threat, but then recovered their senses in time to vote for McCain/Palin in 2008, to “stick it to the liberals.”
For in prosperous times when fortune smiles upon the Union, the abiding purpose of the spite caucus is to stick it to the liberals. In times of uncertainty, such as the great and encompassing uncertainty that we now find ourselves confronting, they find ways to blame the liberals for everything bad that happens and devise new solutions by punitively sticking it to them. In their imagined perfect world — i.e., without liberals to stick it to — they would stand around sticking it to them vicariously, while farms ran fallow and airplanes plummeted to the ground and cities fell awash under waves of seawater, as the dollar came to incite thin laughter in Asian bank moguls and as the very furniture was being carted out of their defaulted houses by sheriff’s officers. Others of their tribe would stand on the sidewalk as the tables and chairs filed sadly past, whisperingly accusing the defaulted homeowners of being liberals. The sheriff’s men would eye the liberals on the sidewalk with a mind toward sticking it to them.
Let’s look at this woman’s big day on the town. She created a multi-stage pageant out of buying a copy of Goldberg’s Liberal Fascism — a book devised as though on the spot at a cocktail party, as an insouciant one-liner from a half-drunk Jonah to some cornball editor he was trying to impress (Adam Bellow, let’s imagine), which was then delivered only after years of flop sweat, excruciating mental gymnastics, and probably genuine debilitating mental depression, because as Jonah knew at the time (and as he probably knows still during certain late nights and lonely self-encounters), while its concept is guaran-freaking-teed to make liberals hop-hop-hoppingly mad, it cannot stand as a serious book because it is premised on an absurdity. So here she’s like, “Tee-hee, my plan begins by loudly asking for this book at Grand Central Station, just in case there’s a liberal nearby to whom I’d be sticking it.” It’s like those Mexican guys in Los Angeles with the bouncy cars: On the surface it just looks silly, but then you consider the industry and determination on display — step by step from concept to technical execution — in installing custom hydraulic systems in order to bounce up and down in their car all pocketa-pocketa while scowling at you at a random stoplight, and it’s genuinely sort of terrifying. What sort of people would do this, and by God, what else are they capable of?
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