The scandal involving French presidential candidate Francois Fillon seems well-timed to fuel the fevered imaginings of conspiracy theorists:
Most people believe in conspiracy theories because they want to do so rather than because the evidence compels belief. Again, this brings the slight consolation that events are under human control, even if that control is malign. And, of course, the conspiracy theorist thinks he has penetrated appearances to reach into the reality of things, which makes him superior to those who have not.
The politically correct became enraged yet again recently when a judge observed that drunk women make themselves more vulnerable to rapists:
Everyone accepts that it is no excuse for a burglar that a house’s front door has been left open; moreover, a householder has a perfect right to leave his front door open if he so wishes. But equally no one would say that a householder who does not want to be burgled acts prudently if he insists upon exercising his perfect right (a much more perfect right than that to get drunk in public) to leave his front door open.
If you read only one Dalrymple piece this week, I recommend it be this one in City Journal: the story of two English football players charged with rape for engaging in seemingly consensual intercourse with a young woman. Though Dalrymple finds their prosecution absurd, he eloquently indicts almost every individual and group involved, from the principals to the various public institutions to the commentators.
Dalrymple’s definition of political correctness as “communist propaganda writ small” has been widely quoted across the Internet. In Taki’s Magazine, he expands on the idea:
For the greater political correctness’ violation of common sense, the better—at least if its goal is power over men’s minds and conduct. In this sense it is like Communist propaganda of old: The greater the disparity between the claims of that propaganda and the everyday experience of those at whom it was directed, the greater the humiliation suffered by the latter, especially when they were obliged to repeat it, thus destroying their ability to resist, even in the secret corners of their heart. That is why the politically correct insist that everyone uses their language: Unlike what the press is supposed to do, the politically correct speak power to truth.
In Taki’s Magazine Dalrymple takes an American professor to task in the harshest way one can criticize an academic these days: he simply quotes the man’s own writing (below)…
Antiracist writing assessment ecologies explicitly pay close attention to the relationships that make up the ecology, relationships among people, discourses, judgments, artifacts created and circulated. They ask students to reflect upon them, negotiate them, and construct them. Antiracist writing assessment ecologies also self-consciously (re)produce power arrangements in order to examine and perhaps change them. When designing an antiracist writing ecology, a teacher can focus students’ attention on a few of the ecological elements…which inter-are. This means addressing others, such as power relations and the ecological places where students problematize their existential assessment situations.
In a new piece at The New Criterion, Dalrymple considers the port of Antwerp, which he recently visited. Although repelled by the exterior of Zaha Hadid’s Havenhuis, he is pleasantly surprised by its interior, which he calls the best working environment he has ever seen. But it is the industriousness of the port and its juxtaposition with the surrounding countryside that seems to interest him most.
All the same, it seems to me an immense achievement that anything at all should grow so close to so large a concentration of industrial activity. Those of us who remember the good old days in Eastern Europe remember factories that seemed to produce nothing at all except pollution, and that poisoned the earth for hundred of yards, if not for miles, around, so that nothing would grow in the oily, poisoned land. It was as if the communist masters took pollution as a metonym for economic advancement: the smokier and the fouler, the nearer to the proletarian heaven the regime approached. And in Cornwall, where arsenic, at one time the elixir of industry, was mined in the nineteenth century, the land is still bare more than a century and a half later. One expects scrub, not fields, around so vast an enterprise as the port of Antwerp.
Read the full piece here
The British Medical Journal has been asking doctors they profile to describe themselves in three words. Dalrymple’s reaction:
One had the depressing feeling that the [interviewees] had been given, and accepted, a buzzword generator of self-praise: no one demurred, no one was, for example, bad-tempered, mean-spirited or egoistic. There wasn’t even a gossip among them, let alone a writer of poison-pen letters. Perhaps they were all of the things that they said they were, but one could not help wishing that it was someone else who said it of them; moreover, they made ditch-water seem like champagne.
This piece in Taki’s Magazine argues for the avoidance of exaggeration in our language:
Intemperance of expression is the enemy of distinctions in meaning.
Also note the important point on the use of the word “resistance” by the left vis-a-vis President Trump:
…as if the United States had instantaneously turned into a land where it was dangerous to express a contrary opinion to that of the president’s, as if opponents were being rounded up and put in camps, as if it required singular bravery to express dislike or even disgust for him. I suspect that, in parts of the country at least, and among a certain kind of people, it would have required more moral courage to admit that you voted for him than to compare him to Bluebeard or Genghis Khan.
The word resistance is indicative of self-congratulation and grandiosity, and must be rather galling for those for whom the choice to submit or resist is or ever was a question of life and death. Opposition is a normal and salutary process in a civilized polity, accepted by politicians even if, in his heart, no one in power really likes to be opposed; resistance is something else altogether.
At Salisbury Review, Dalrymple writes of the architect Paulo Mendes da Rocha, “whose work is so bad that he has been awarded the Royal Institute of British Architects gold medal”.
In the recent past, government functionaries saw themselves as the servants of the people. Nowadays, the nature of that relationship seems to have reversed, a development Dalrymple laments at Salisbury Review.