Wingnut blogger Ace of Spades pays tribute to Andrew Breitbart. It’s some measure of respect for the deceased battleaxe that the blogger feigns his best Antony for Caesar. This would be a Wingnut Antony, one less interested in rhetorical double-dealing and prone to sincerity in the severe. You remember that David Frum is Brutus. He, having had nothing to do with Andrew’s weak heart, is a shit.
How David did stab Andrew’s unsullied reputation in writing this:
And this is where it becomes difficult to honor the Roman injunction to speak no ill of the dead. It’s difficult for me to assess Breitbart’s impact upon American media and American politics as anything other than poisonous. When one of the leading media figures of the day achieves his success by his giddy disdain for truth and fairness—when one of our leading political figures offers to his admirers a politics inflamed by rage and devoid of ideas—how to withhold a profoundly negative judgment on his life and career?
Assassino. Our scene opens: Ace ascends the pulpit, knee-deep in thought, and Cheetos.
Andrew Breitbart died today . .
We shall say of them that their legacy consists of more than three words — “Axis,” “of,” and “Evil.”
We shall say of them that they were warriors, and not bitter Vichyites mourning their loss of — loss of? was it ever even possessed? — relevance and reach.
I get it. Andrew is to David as Adolf was to the surrender monkeys. Check. You shall say of them, “I want to ever loyally and sincerely serve my people and fatherland and be obedient to the Reichspräsident and to my superiors.” Each to their own heroes.
. . from the dawn of time the primitives in the woods envied and feared those with the Magic of Fire.
Err, yeah I remember. Our Neanderthal ancestors poked their misshapen heads from the reeds and witnessed the “Magic of Fire.” How they envied . . the burning forest. Unless the woodchucks knew plenty about flint stones. Plenty of something they were foolish to forget.
As I type this, Breitbart is more alive than David Frum has ever been.
I doubt very much that will change as the years march on.
It is the nature of the rat to envy the lion.
The rat thinks, “If only I could gorge myself on the careers of anonymous, well-meaning people. I could roll over and sleep in the sun. That would be something.” Oh, rat boy, dream away.
We should not fault the rat overly for this. For what else can the rat do?
Let’s see: “Rats have been used in many experimental studies, which have added to our understanding of genetics, diseases, the effects of drugs, and other topics that have provided a great benefit for the health and well-being of humankind. Laboratory rats have also proved valuable in psychological studies of learning and other mental processes (Barnett, 2002), as well as to understand group behavior and overcrowding (with the work of John B. Calhoun on behavioral sink). A 2007 study found rats to possess metacognition, a mental ability previously only documented in humans and some primates.” Rats are looking pretty good right now.
But we should say that there are lions, and there are rats. And they are easily distinguishable.
And they are as different from each other as the sun is from the mirror that reflects it.
Lions are hydrogen-rich sources of fusion radiation, whereas rats are nothing more than Galileo’s night watchmen. That sounds right. Okay, I’m sleepy, here.