Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Live from New York!
That’s right, I’m now on the scene, blogging from a corporate box in Madison Square Garden, where the Republican National Committee has helicoptered me in from central Pennsylvania. It seems that they’ve been reading this blog over the past two days, and they really like what they see. Thanks, guys! You’ve been very sweet to me. And the helicopter ride rocked.
Unfortunately, not everyone has been so sweet lately. Some of my former friends in the Democrat party have been getting pretty wild-eyed, just like their stumbling standardbearer, and a few of you have even posted some nasty remarks about me on various liberal blogs. “A traitor to the left,” says one. “He was always horrible,” says another. “You are the least shrewd, most willing-to-be hornswoggled academic I’ve ever run into,” says a third-- on this very site! Everyone wants to know: how could I do it? After a lifetime of believing passionately in egalitarian social justice, in democratic secularism, in human rights for every living human regardless of race, gender, sexuality, or disability, how could I flip to the Republicans in only one night of watching the convention on TV? Exactly how stupid or craven am I?
Well, let’s try to figure out just whose horn is being swoggled, people. Do you know how much money we’re talking about here? I’ve spent my adult life as a member of the liberal cultural elite, living in college towns and teaching literature. I thought I was pretty sharp, with my “postmodern” this and my “cultural studies” that. But do you have any idea how the real elite in this country live? Holy mother of God in a public creche, folks, you can’t begin to imagine the perks around here. To hell with the cultural elite-- they couldn’t see Dick Cheney’s tax bracket if the entire English department at Harvard stood on each other’s shoulders. The political elite is where it’s at, people, the economic elite. Now there’s an elite. And let me tell you, it is mighty, mighty fine up here. No more Genny Cream Ale in cans for me-- there’s nothing in this suite but Macallan and Stoli. And the servants couldn’t be nicer. Everyone here treats them with honest-to-God conservative compassion, and they seem to be just fine with that.
Where is all the money coming from, you ask? Well, from many sources, all of them legit, not like your drug-running, Holocaust-avoiding Soros fellow. But the main pipeline (so to speak!-- that’s a little joke in our suite) is Iraq appropriations. Remember that $8.8 billion that went “missing” last week? I’m looking at some of it right now, people. It’s in a suitcase next to the hors d’oeuvres, and it’s pretty goddamned impressive. Think Pulp Fiction. I can’t say anything more at the moment, but I can assure you that it’s being put to good use as I type. So here’s to Iraq-- let freedom reign!
This afternoon, Rich Lowry of the National Review stopped by to offer me a guest spot at NRO. He was really nice-- he suggested that I’d fill a crucial niche over there, since, as he put it, nobody at the magazine knows “jack shit” about American culture. “No one on our staff has seen a play, gone to a movie, listened to a new CD, danced at a club, or read a work of fiction in the past five years-- seriously, it’s just Jonah and his ‘Republicans-can-quote-the-Simpsons-too’ routine. You’d basically have the entire field to yourself.” He’s right, you know. They’re not crazy about my hockey thing, but I’m sure we can work that out. After all, the great thing about America is that Republicans can disagree with each other!
Whoa, gotta run-- I’m meeting Lynne Cheney for cosmopolitans at the Royalton. We have a lot to catch up on-- and I’ve got a list of names I have to give her before she goes on tonight. Back later with the results of Cheneyfest!