Beware The Savage Jaw

'Get your handy abridged New American Edition of Duckspeak, at fine thoughtcrime prevention kiosks everywhere...A bottle of Victory Gin for only two credits more...Curfew at 13 o'clock, citizen, move on...'

As I reflect upon this unfolding bonfire of another's vanity, it becomes plainer to see just what exact function Jonah Goldberg is attempting to perform with the intellectually vapid theories and wilful misrepresentations of fact that he puts forth in his latest yeasty screed.

For many observers, one aspect of the time's ongoing cultural warfare is in the literary sphere.
One might think that with the dwindling supply of actual 'readers' in North America, this expression would not be as critical to the process of forced societal alteration as it is, but published books still have a certain cachet and can add weight to opinion by dint of their mere presence, irrespective of the lucidity of their contents.

Over the last few decades, as the monolithic drive of the Right pushed the middle ground of 'acceptable' public discourse further toward their end of the table, certain authors have emerged from the shadowy fringes proffering increasing degrees of outrageous commentary, useful as fuel for self-righteous fires stoked by guileless types bereft of critical thinking skills.

In some cases (e.g., Regnery), these published manipulations of fact are supported financially by the deep pockets of those who see nothing inherently wrong with monied oligarchies placing their highly polished boot on the neck of the masses - this, in fact being the desired goal.

Within this frame some writers toil as propaganda spearpoints, a la Ann Coulter, injecting vile philosophical constructs into the public discourse merely so that others will commence to discuss and propagate them on a broader scale.

In accord with this, some such as the subject of this post operate as justifiers...Supporting the occluded and self delusional world views of those who ascribe all manner of heinousity to anything Left of St. Ronald the Contra-ry and permitting them to give full vent to all sorts of ill-informed thought and deed while feeling super-duper peachy-keen about it all.

History is replete with such ink-stained little helpers, buffing the toenails of their masters for position and profit, and in Goldberg we have at last found the ideal synthesized hybrid for such a task in the Modern Age of high speed dumb...

One part Alex Keaton, one part Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf, with a delicate sprinkle of Lord Haw-Haw boiled in the pan and ready to serve.

Would you like a wafer thin mint?

;>)