One reason I’m thankful that P.J. O’Rourke has not succumbed to his recently-revealed (treatable) ass cancer is that his ongoing existence allows him to write great articles like this very funny one summarizing the grim and frustrating situation of Republicans at this juncture in history.
Where do we go from here? I for one spend December blogging about how not to philosophize and January blogging about how to do so with a proper regard for the centrality of property rights. Political parties and movements can agree with me or not, but at this late stage in history, I just gotta be me.
But lest we think self-mockery is possible for Republicans but not for the more elite band of Atlas Shrugged readers, behold this marvelous comedy piece from McSweeney’s, pointed out to me by co-worker Jeff Stier (and reminding me somewhat of the warnings over the past couple years from my ex-girlfriend Koli, who’s moving to DC, about the disconnect between laissez-faire ideals of productivity and some of the obfuscatory legal-semantic shenanigans she saw going on down on Wall Street). Sigh.
Lest we think there is nothing positive still to be said about proud, Randian-style capitalism, though, I will just have to make Atlas Shrugged one of my (seven) Book Selections of the Month for December (the Month of Feminism on my blog), using a first edition first printing copy ironically given to me as a gift by Valerie Jackson, a lefty friend from Brown now organic farming in upstate New York — and no doubt having a fine Thanksgiving dinner while, by principle or mere happenstance, eating locally (the practice at the heart of next week’s Lolita Debate, so join us for that — and bring leftovers if you like).