An Epic Takedown...

... or one of the best blog posts I've read recently

Driftglass is on my blogroll for a reason. He never fails to connect and his style is without peer in my opinion. I for one am extremely glad to see that he keeps after it, post after post, year after year.

If there was justice in this world, he'd be the op-ed writer for the NYT and not Bobo, a frequent (and all too easy) target. Or, he'd at least be their illustrator! As one of his regulars pointed out int he comments to this highlighted post, Drifty should be hired by Rolling Stone ASAP!

As for the post itself, as they say, Go.Read.It.All. I know that critiquing the published punditry is like fishing with dynamite, but these people are playing a vital role in continuing our nation's slide into oblivion. They are the fiddles being played as Versailles-on-Potomac burns through our resources, credit and good name. They are the enablers of all that is happening. And they, like all the other (bipartisan) glitterati who've "sold out," are getting rich while the rest of or Citizens are headed to penury.

Here is but a snippet of Driftglass' latest anti-Bobo work; its wonderfully done and truly inspired:

Son, we live in a world that has plutoctats. And those plutoctats have to be guarded by men with newspaper columns.

Who's gonna do it? You, driftglass? You, Taibbi?

I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Journalism and you curse professional cum dumpsters like me. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Journalism's death, while tragic, probably makes the Ruling Class incrementally more powerful. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, makes the Ruling Class incrementally more powerful.

You don't want the to go to that cocktail party, because deep down, in places you don't talk about on your Journalism Listservs you want me at that cocktail party.


You me need me there.

We use words like craven, stenographer, Villager...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending entrenched interests.

You use 'em as a punchline.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to employees who rise and sleep under the blanket of the very ad revenue I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said "Thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a cocktail weenie and go grope a Senator. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to.

Thanks Drifty for one of your finest works.



d r i f t g l a s s: David Brooks: The Man of Constant Sorrow