Voorhees VII is back with further French inhalations into the Cut of His Jib.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Oh Meticula: The Tale of the Sextant
Voorhees VII is back with further French inhalations into the Cut of His Jib.
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From Left to Right: Chris Buckley, Brooks, Frum.
During our Bermuda summit many gambits were proposed to win back America's elite electoral precincts from the left; sponsoring various hip hop colloquia at the better Ivies, supporting integration of gays into Nascar, endorsing state ownership of the means of production. [..] But there remains a daunting obstacle - namely, the benighted rubes who constitute so much of our so-called "base," and whose existence make it nigh on impossible to recruit their social betters.
Rats! Those stinking peasants mess things up, yet again.
Seethe Tecs!
I'm conflicted.
This help?
"We've tried, Mr. President," I explained. "But there are unsavory elements within the party who keep bringing them back in."
My reference, obviously, was to the self-styled luminaries of "populism" who hang like a millstone around the Republican neck -- the Sarah Palins, the Plumbing Joes, the Bobby Jindals, the Rush Limbaughs, the motley middlebrow state college pretenders to the conservative throne. A shared contempt for these arriviste oafs unites the Nassau summitteers perhaps even more than our shared fondness for a snifter of well-behaved armagnac VSOP. I have made no secret of my feelings about la Palin and her grim brood of ill-mannered snowbillies, as well that horrid toilet tinkerer from Toledo whose fifteen minutes have somehow refused to expire. The recent emergence of Bobby Jindal and Rush Limbaugh in the intraparty maelstrom yet affords fresh opportunities for conservative dismality.
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