Why go over there, where it's all hot and sandy and sticky and shit, and have to get up in the enemy's grille, when you can fight The Good Fight just as effectively from waaaaay the fuck over here:
But Cliff May, another National Review blogger and prominent right-wing pundit, objected. May insisted that Lopez, by blogging for the National Review was “fighting a war” and this war was “equally consequential” with the wars that are fought by the U.S. military. An excerpt:
There is a war of arms. And there is a war of ideas. They are not just inter-related, they are interdependent. They are equally consequential.
…Let’s take just one example: In the 1930s, Churchill fought a war of ideas. He tried to warn the world about Hitler; tried to warn Europe and America that Hitler’s hatred and ambition had to be checked. But most people did not listen. Churchill’s ideas did not prevail. They called Churchill a “war monger.”
…So yes, Kathryn, you are fighting a war. And your e-mailer is ignorant about how wars are fought, about how wars are won and lost, and about the way the world actually works. [emphases in original]
Do tell, Sgt. Rock. Can't wait for a few years down the road, when Cliffy and Pantload and J-Pod and the rest of the dogfaces of the 82nd Chairborne meet up and swap war stories, talk about their nightmarish tour of duty in the shit. You can tell the Pantload by his thousand-yard stare, and his 80-pound ruck full of dirty socks and popcorn chicken. Just remember not to say the word "Charlie" in front of him, or he will flip the fuck out and gut you like the legacy-defining record trout The Decider caught at his pre-stocked lake.
Civilian pussies just don't get what's it's like out in the shit at The Corner, never knowing when Buckley's gonna toddle by, on another Tanqueray and Vicodin bender, and tell you a-fucking-gain how it was back in the day. You never know when Ponnuru's gonna sneak up behind you, like a fuckin' ghost, man, and pester you to work his stupid fucking book into the blog yet again. Jesus, doesn't he have an agent or a publicist or something?
Yeah, the civilians don't get what grunts like Cliffy and K-Lo do, man, day in and day out, but they do it for us anyway, and they do it for their country. It's a tall job, done by short, dumpy people who basically operate an electronic tin cup.
Semper fi, Cliffy. Semper fi, Pantload. Ooo-rah.
8 comments:
How could I forget Private Pyle?
Well done, sir.
This is some funny shit. But what the hell makes them think that, in the war of ideas, these subarticulate morons would be even soldiers, much less officers? Were there such a war -- between whom, anyway? The West and some crazy towelheads hiding in caves? or is it between the Righteous and the goddam' lib'ruls? -- K. Lo would be the lunch lady at the officers' mess, and the Pantload would do the dishes after the imperial grunts finish their meals. To presume that they'd ever be entrusted with a weapon in the War on the Abstract Noun is to labor under a dangerous illusion.
--M.
Thanks, Roy. It's pretty cool to see folks further up the blogger food chain checking in here now and then (with Kos' permission, of course).
That Pyle photo is priceless; I've got half a mind to blow it up and send it the the NRO, c/o Duh Pantload.
Marius, that's a good point -- the pinnipeds at The Corner would be useless in pretty much any real military operations phase. Forget combat, obviously; they'd be just as useless at logistics or transportation, or anything else requiring any skill.
They're really just administrative wonks, the type who are just barely competent enough to keep their cubicle jobs, until it's cost-effective for management to dump their worthless asses.
I am not insulted by being called a chickenhawk. I'm proud to be a chicken hawk. I think only bloggers who have not served in the military have the objectivity and detachment necessary to decide where other people should go and fight.
Heywood, my bad. I wasn't clear enough. I meant that, even if there were such a thing as a 'war of ideas,' most right-wing bloggers wouldn't qualify as mere soldiers in it. I mean, if making a consistent argument is the equivalent of holding an assault rifle, then a good deal of Right Blogistan would simply have to polish the boots of whatever actual ideological soldiers they've got. I guess Hitchens may qualify as the drunk sergeant, bellowing incomprehensible orders in between bouts of uncontrollable sobs; Chuckie Krauthammer is perhaps the hollow-eyed martinet, always sputtering with rage; and they'd all be led by another soggy drunk, Buckley the Elder. But where the hell are their generals? Hell, where's even the colonel? If they ever had a von Rundstedt, he's now becoming evanescent--not to speak of this nerdy captain who's decided to jump ship. I don't think you can wage any war with the rage junkies at Little Green Footballs and a couple of regiment prostitutes.
--M.
As an ex-soldier from the 1980's, proud of his DD-214 that says "Honorable Discharge", I have to say I saw this coming long ago. It started with Reagan and hasn't stopped since. You can't breed such creatures (yet), so you have to recruit them.
In my Army Basic training platoon in 1982, I saw lots of strange stuff, like guys you'd never think of cracking (because they looked so big and strong and talked sh*t all the time) snivelling and crying in the corner, while geeky-looking guys turned into real sharpshooting asskickers. My impression of these College Republicans is these guys comprise the former group. Or, as my (former Marine) Old Man used to say, "Bulldog mouth, puppydog a$$'. They want to show they 'have a pair'? They can enlist and take the place of a real man or woman. They make me want to barf...
Nemo:
"Bulldog mouth, puppydog a$$"
I remember hearing that one a time or two from my uncle, who did two tours with the Marines in Vietnam (and believe me, paid the price for it, not that the scumbag chickenhawks and cheerleaders gave half a shit). Thanks for reminding me of it; I will definitely work it in in the near future.
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