Friday, February 21, 2003

You love him, you hate him...

But Neal Pollack continues to crack my ass up:

Do Keller, or any of the members of his "club," really believe that anything they write registers with the Bush administration? Is Donald Rumsfeld feeling more secure now that Slate is on board? Was Dick Cheney sitting around waiting for Lance Morrow's reluctant approval? In what world are these writers living? This is not a second-year honors seminar at the Kennedy School of Government. This is war, motherfucker!

Great Bylined Thinkers of America, I bid you: Shut up!

He also gives quite a rogering to some anti-war writers, but ends with this point (with which I completely agree):

On both sides of the Iraq war "debate," writers are straining. They want to be seers, prophets, and tellers of eternal truths. They think they're dropping wisdom for the ages. But they're not. They just sound foolish. From any important historical circumstance, only a few pieces of genuine literary art emerge. In this current situation, I would argue for two: the Onion's special issue immediately following September 11, and William Langewiesche's book about reclaiming Ground Zero. One was the product of seemingly divine humor inspiration, the other of months of 16-hour reporting days.

Go read the whole thing if you haven't already.


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