, and rarely have those words rung truer than when observing the pedantic antics of The
gistrate before his Motley Mob of Funky Flingers.
. Yes,
.
gistrate! Marvel as he recites roted quotables with faux formality.
price of just one extra DUrnival ticket, be sure to stop by to see his lovely, foul-mouthed (fish)wife,
Having spoken with several other rational progressives about their own impressions of The
gistrate, I believe I am not alone in some of the core tenets expressed in the following field observations.
Nevertheless, I do believe some of my observations are original, and perhaps even groundbreaking; accordingly, I put them forward for peer review by other rational observers.
or Dian Fossey, giving my very first zoology lecture upon my return to human civilization. I sincerely hope that the account of my recent return from the Deepest, Darkest DUngle is worth your time, and I welcome your questions at the conclusion of today's presentation. As you might imagine, I'm practically starved for civilized conversation.
.
Please feel free to raise questions and to make comments, using the comments feature. If you would prefer a comment remain unpublished, please clearly note your preference. Please also note that my profile includes a link to my AIM screenname, where I can also often be reached.
Primary Primate Field Notes: First Contact
The first time I encountered The MEREgistrate, I thought his "Sir" schtick was an off-putting one-off routine.
However, after continued field study, I came to learn that Sir Schtick-a-Lot quickly wears out that asinine, asshat hack act through habitual patterned use.
He apparently keeps meticulous track of who is a Sir, and who is a Ma'am, compulsively conforming his saccharine schtick to the gender of whichever misfortunate soul happens to be his addressee.
But, good Ma'ams and good Sirs, I put this simple question to you for your contemplative consideration:
Would not a sincerer form of courtesy require The MEREgistrate to keep equal or even better track of those who find his schtick endearing, on the one hand, versus those who find it an impediment to the normal flow of civil discourse, on the other hand?
You hesitate to answer for yourself? Permit me to adjust the question's frame a bit, then, if you would but forbear a bit, then, kind Ma'ams and gentle Sirs.
Answering then, - not in your own voice, but rather, from the viewpoint of those legion who find his schtick irritating - might you not consider his unabated disregard for your expressed preference that he cease and desist with said schtick to be an impediment to the normal flow of civil discourse and progressive policy debate?
Might you not view this interruption of the flow of the conversation as - dare I say it? - a disruption tactic of a sort? Something a disruptor would do? (And "poorly," at that.)
Ah! I apprehend by the growing, gleaming glint in each of your eyes, my merry Ma'ams and my savvy Sirs, that you are beginning to form - if not exactly an outright empathy - then, perhaps, an emerging sympathy for those who have asked The MEREgistrate to take their wishes on the matter of faux formality into account.
Emerging sympathy is fertile enough soil for the seed of the point to take root.
Even Enron asked its customers their preferred form of address, permitting them to fill out a form field for a nickname, to boot. Is The MEREgistrate even less attuned to the social niceties than Enron? Like Enron, though, The MEREgistrate drives a certain type of bargain: his way forward, or no way forward.
Long observation of his DUngle doings allows this researcher to say: yes, Ma'ams and Sirs, alike, he is really that ill-attuned.
Primary Primate Field Notes: The Apparent Alpha Ape vs. the Actual Alpha Ape
Quite easily, my dear colleagues, could an engaging and intellectually-rigorous graduate-level course on the social structure of the now-dominant grief, swarm, and lock clique in the DUngle be taught.
But that would be aiming too low.
Colleagues and fellow rational progressives, I argue instead for the establishment of a full-fledged DUpartment of DUngle Studies.
And though I may not be the most qualified to head the DUpartment, I think I am at least a contender for tenure, on the basis that I could teach that aforementioned graduate-level course.
A sneak preview, you say, might help convince you, you say?
Fair enough. I accept your scholarly challenge as an equitable test of the merits of my contention.
Much has been said about the grief, swarm, and lock clique that currently controls the DUngle. Whether they realize they’ve been the subject of these various outside discussions or not, they have been.
To
grief a thread is to maliciously take it over, in order to deprive those who actually wanted to discuss the issue of the opportunity to do so. The
anti-social pathology of griefing is receiving increasing media attention. (Indeed, the DUngle may soon be the subject of a human interest write-up in a major weekly magazine, examining the role of
griefing in the 2008 Presidential race. More on that later.) Often, one or more low-ranking lookouts of the clique serve as the initial or primary griefer.
To
swarm a thread is to send out a backchannel signal (outside the discussion board’s official or monitorable channels) to members of a likeminded group or clique, alerting them to come help the lookout griefer. The
swarm signal is usually done by the first griefer who spots the thread.
To
lock a thread is to have a seemingly unbiased party (who is, in reality, part of the clique) step in and declare the post too hot to handle. Typically terming the thread, “flamebait,” these seemingly lazy mods are actually in on it from the get-go. Rather than dealing with the flamers who grief these thread (which would entail disciplining one of their own clique), these seemingly lazy mods are actually doing exactly what their role in the clique requires: achieving the ultimate goal of skewing the discussion board to their point of view.
Much could be said - and we'd be here all day and well into next week if we began speaking on the topic - about the
grief, swarm, and lock clique that currently controls the DUngle.
But, as a Rosetta Stone shortcut to understanding, I believe that one single, solitary thread stands tall above the DUngle treetops, providing a commanding perch from which to safely observe the
grief, swarm, and lock clique in action.
A salute to the Magistrate!Here, we see the OP, which I call
The Salute Thread, authored by the intellectually-weakest member of the controlling clique, that intellectual pygmy marmoset, the DUpidMonkey.
I realize that it is difficult to grasp the scale of just how small the space between a pygmy marmoset's ears really is, so one of my field assistants provided this backup slide in time for today's lecture.
There are opposable thumbs, and then there are opposable thumbs, you might say.
No doubt, the little guy thinks he's controlling the ride, and the big guy might even let the little guy think he's steering it. For a while, anyway.
Unable to argue a progressive policy or political point in anything even resembling a civil, factual, academic, or socially-aware fashion, the DUpidMonkey is the clique's low-man-on-totem-pole. He is their lookout. He is one of their chief griefers. And I became
The GreatGrieferBaiter.
An Advanced Search of the Littlest Lemur's screenname, plus the F Bomb or any one of its variants, is a very eye-opening exercise. It is no accident that he escapes discipline. The seemingly lazy mods have him covered, and the site's Founders are complicit.
The DUpidMonkey's shrill shilling shrieks are often the clique's first alert, summoning them to their classic
grief, swarm, and lock behavior pattern.
The Salute Thread is the little pygmy marmoset's way of currying continued favor from the Apparent Alpha Ape of the clique, the old hoary harangue-utan himself, The
MEREgistrate.
As you scroll through
The Salute Thread, note the names in each response. Note the huzzahs!
Some of those are extremely bright individuals.
Seemingly -
seemingly - the tenor of each response reveals clearly those individuals who are nothing more than simian sycophants, and those who are more resistant to cliquethink. But appearances can be deceiving in the DUngle, as in all of Nature.
Among the
seeming sycophants, I count a number of responders who - safely outside the sphere and purview where The
MEREgistrate holds sway - have secretly discussed ways to end his reign and his undue influence on future groups of mods. More on that in a future discussion.
For now, colleagues, I urge you to note two response sub-threads within
The Salute Thread in particular:
1.
The Consort's Blessing, from
SheWhoMustBeObeyed (or, as I nicknamed her very late in my research,
DameOfTheDUngle) serves to assure the little pygmy marmoset that the real power behind The
MEREgistrate's Misused Gavel has deigned to come out of her tree, to take approving note of
The Salute Thread. The little imp, reassured that he is still "in" the controlling clique by no less of an authority than
SheWhoReallyGavels, gives a playful response and scampers off to munch on a marmoset mini-muffin and self satisfy beneath a leaf.
2. The
Figurehead's Headpat, from The
MEREgistrate (or, as I nicknamed him late in my research,
HeWhoMustBePitied), assures the
Littlest Lemur that he can count on continued favored treatment from the Misused Gavel.
Can there be any real remaining doubt of who the
ActualAlphaApe is within the
grief, swarm, and lock clique? If this were a poll, I'm not sure The
MEREgistrate would be faring so well right now. Theses apes are, in truth, a MonkeyMatriarchy.
Primary Primate Field Notes: DUngle Book, A MusicalThe Figurehead's Headpat, from The
MEREgistrate, is reminiscent of the very classic scene in Disney's very classic
Jungle Book, where
King Louie of the Orangutans reveals himself to be jealous of the secret of man's red flower.
Fire. Wisdom. Gotta get him some of that! Yeah, Man!
Mimicking great men, The
MEREgistrate spouts off a long list of roted quotables. He must have been fit to burst at the seams with all the pent-up pedantry we'd all been spared during his hiatus.
Now, colleagues, let us be fair: each of us sprinkles the voices of other authorities on the meat of our own original academic research and writings. Indeed, I began today's lecture with just such a notable quotable.
But we all know, and I think we can all agree, that it is a lesser, un-academic, and intellectually dishonest form of plagiarism to have the meat of the message be the voices of others, and the sprinkles be one's own, very pedantic, stilted, and unoriginal voice.
Like that other harangue-utan, King Louie, The
MEREgistrate can string together the words, and he can lay down a syncopated beat with a gavel that really belongs in the hands of a higher primate.
But he is actually jealous of man's red flower, fire. Or, original wisdom and insight.
It is the difference between monkey-reads, monkey-says and Man-thinks, Man-creates, writ large. And re-emphasized with every quoted thought of a greater thinker than he is; he is unoriginally able to recompose his own quotable lines. He is the ultimate Fauxllectual Consumer of great works. After all, it doesn't take much original thought to realize that luminaries like Mark Twain didn’t become quotable because they were famous; rather, they became famous because they were quotable – and originals. And definitely not pedantics.
It is as if Sir Winston Churchill himself peered into the future, and glimpsed The
MEREgistrate's life.
It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations. Bartlett's Familiar Quotations is an admirable work, and I studied it intently. The quotations when engraved upon the memory give you good thoughts. They also make you anxious to read the authors and look for more. Roving Commission: My Early Life
One could, if one were so inclined, go through the long list of The
MEREgistrate's roted quotables in
The Figurehead Headpat, and highlight the supreme (almost pathological) irony of each quote, when its message is applied to his schtick, to him, and to his role in the
grief, swarm, and lock clique.
But for now, the first two of The
MEREgistrate's monkeying, mimicking quotes will suffice to illustrate an important point, and also provide an introduction to how it is that SheWhoReallyGavels came to my attention as The MEREgistrate's Mate.
"People are fucking people, and that is fucked up.""Misanthropy is how the devil falls in love."Clearly,
the above quotes were meant as a mocking monkeyswipe from The MEREgistrate, whose pedantic posts in this thread were deleted by the Founder of that other site, after I complained about how
The MEREgistrate was habitually violating the Moderator-as-regular-poster conduct rules.
The beginning of The
MEREgistrate's mysterious hiatus coincided with that tepid and woefully inadequate rebuke from the other site's Founder.
Coincidentally, colleagues, The
MEREgistrate's mysterious hiatus ended the selfsame day I was tombstoned.
I think it is reasonable to infer that
The Salute Thread was designed - indeed, choreographed and crafted by the clique, before letting the
Littlest Lemur have the honor of posting it - to send a very clear signal to any other would-be challengers.
We have the Founder's blessing.
We are the grief, swarm, and lock clique, and it is we who now control this board. With the Founder’s full knowledge and support and blessing and complicity.
The problem is, that message was actually received (loud and clear), weighed, and found wanting. By some rather unlikely parties, I must confess. As any good scientific observer knows, sometimes it's the unexpected surprises that make for the most interesting and useful discoveries. More on that in another discussion.
Primary Primate Field Notes: At the Sound of ELEVENS!11!!1 Came the Epiphany. zOMG!!! Get a brain morans! Oh NooooooooEs! (With Much Love, to The Lounge)It wasn't until the proverbial 11th hour (before my ejection from the DUngle) that the key epiphany came. Right before I was chased out of the DUngle, the breakthrough encounter, observation, and discovery!
Lo and behold: that foul-mouthed fishwife,
SheWhoMustBeObeyed, is the
real life wife of The
MEREgistrate. And she was pissed. At me.
For proving to the Founder that her husband was mixed up in the
grief, swarm, and lock clique, and getting him sidelined. Robbing her of her power behind the computer screen. Sending her into temporary exile. These were my crimes in her eyes.
She was now on a
mission, and
Hellbent was merely an exit sign she hurtled right on past, on her way to her chosen destination. Nothing would stop her and her monkeys from getting the Gibbons' Gavel back.
No need to lean forward to the edge of your seats, colleagues. I will not keep you poised there.
How did I figure out that she's his real life wife? I know, I know.
For each of the trusted few to whom I have already revealed this epiphany, that has been the key , 64 Bananas question.
"How on earth did you make that intuitive leap?"
The answer is quite simple:
SheWhoToldMeHerself.
Though I suspect
SheWouldRabidlyDenyIt.
She did not, I confess, tell me so in so many words, mind you.
Some readers will recall that I promised more info on the
mysterious deleted subthread at #27 of this post. I do my utmost to keep my promises, especially to peers and colleagues as pre-eminent as those I see before me here today.
The response that began that sub-thread was posted by none other than
The Missus of MEREgistrate Manor. Only, at the time (February 5th), I still didn't know that she even was
The MEREgistrate Manor Missus.
Posted at 12:22 a.m. ET that day, it read as follows, and was addressed to her Court Jester in Exile, the
Littlest Lemur:
27. Oh, MF, don't you know it's "I SHALL express my opinion"?Of course, many here have opinions which they express in other unsavory and seldom-visited corners of the internet. Why they're tolerated here I couldn't say, but I like to think this chap knows the score.The underlines were actual hyperlinks. These hyperlinks of hers went to the places shown below. Clearly, the
Chimpanqueen was not enjoying her fall from status in the
grief, swarm, lock clique.
Moreover, I must disagree with her rosey assessment of her monkeymate: I wouldn't trust that
chap-assed chap to call the play-by-play on the DUpidMonkey Tic-Tac-Toe DUrnament of DUmbasses on Parade.
"many here" was a link to a
Google search on the term sock puppet.
"opinions" was a link to a
Google search on the term bullshit.
"unsavory" was a link to
IdesOfOctober's blog.
"seldom-visited" was a link to
a Yahoo! group I established for "Know Nothing Progressives," fed up at having threads locked by the grief, swarm, and lock clique that the Founder has abandoned control to these days.
"I couldn't say" was a link to a Google search on
troll stars.
And the "chap" she felt confident knew the real score?
A link to a
Google search on the word magistrate.
Her foul-mouthed fishwife's signature line in that post could hardly be more ironic if she tried. She plays GutterGal while he plays FauxFormal.
Just for a change of pace, why not take a break from pissing on Democrats and spend some time kicking around some goddamned motherfucking Republicans. Plenty to choose from. Kick them all!Clearly, The
MEREgistrate's Missus was not enjoying her exile on the Apey Archipelago, and was jonesing for a return as the principal, unprincipled power behind the
Gavel of the Gibbons.
So, those damn dirty apes just wouldn't quit.
Now, mind you, colleagues, I still didn't know that
SheWhoIsPerpetuallyPissy was any relation of The
MEREgistrate's. But based on that
histrionic call-out alone, it was becoming clear to me that she had more than a passing interest in the screenshotted shaming of The
MEREgistrate.
Rather
than break the fourth wall and interact with the Actual Alpha Ape in the public thread, I continued to watch, observe, and take field notes. This was
Must-See-Primatology.
At 3:02 a.m. ET, she responded to her own thread #27, with post #30.
30. And I SHALL kick my own postsI shall kick them and kick them for days, whether or not anyone else responds - not because I am in love with my own puny puns and arduous alliterations, but only to ensure that the most people benefit from my brilliance.Obviously a more hateful hue of histrionic by this point - given that she hadn't received the public attention she was so clearly craving as the Exiled Empress of the
Euarchontoglires - she flung yet another handful.
Hey, whatever sticks, right?
Via a private message, and without profanity, I invited her to self-alert to have her comments taken down.
It is my understanding that a self-alert and request to erase will generally obtain quick action. Best, DaveShe responded:
Knock yourself out.I politely sought clarification of what that meant:
Am I correct that you leave the sub-thread as is, and that you're unwilling to self-alert and ask that your comments be taken down?
Respectfully,
- Dave
She replied:
You go do whatever you want to do. I have one of the cleanest records on this board, it's no loss of face for me if my are deleted, and as I said on the board, to your face, I give a shit what you think.
Ah! It’s good to be married to the mob. Er, mod. To which I patiently replied:
1. Lovely language.
2. Exemplary civility.
3. Unconvincing display of apathy.
4. No, you posed and postured for the high-fives of your cliquish audience. This [a private message between adults, without playing to the cheap seats] is the equivalent of a face-to-face.
- Dave
Presuming to speak with authority on behalf of the site's Founder, she retorted:
So...you -don't- think you can bully Skinner into pulling my posts? Really. Be my guest. Give it your best shot. I'm sure he's not busy today or anything. He'd love the distraction.
That certainly got my attention. Here, The Princess of the Primates intimates that she has some sort of inside story about how I used evidence (e.g., screenshots) to catch her Feces Flinging Figurehead of a Gibbon Gaveler in a blatant case of grief, swarm, and lock.
Yes, I pressed the case to the Founder of that site. No, I did not take silence for answer. Yes, the Founder - however reluctantly and tepidly - stepped in, finally. At the time, I still believed the Founder was not DUplicitous about how he runs his site.
With that last comment of hers, now she really had my undivided attention.
That is to say: she had the undivided attention of a true INTJ.
At 9:30 a.m. ET, I responded:
My understanding of the alert process - to be used sparingly, in my view, and something I had never done before this month, to the very best of my recollection - is that all requests for intervention are treated equally, without regard to cliques and favorites.
If you don't like my posts, you can always ignore, or Ignore. If you don't derive any benefit, why in the world would you spend time reading - to the point of making a mockery, not of me, but of your claim to not care. Apathy ignores and takes no notice. Clearly, you care enough to throw down a virtual gauntlet.
No, I won't stoop to using profanity, I won't stoop to lampooning *your* style (she who must be obeyed), but I will make a respectful case to the mods that your sub-thread is in violation of the rules, and should (without fanfare or melodrama) be taken down. No biggie in the grand scheme of the board, as it was not a significant contribution on any objective scale.
Best,
- Dave
Well, the sub-thread got deleted. Draw whatever inference from that fact, as you will.
But even still I did not know that she was related to HeWhoMustBePitied. Being a rational, fact-based, Scientific Method sort, all I could accurately conclude at this point, based on the facts then in evidence before me, was that she was a friendly intimate of the Mysteriously Missing MEREgistrate.
It was a true case of EBTL: Epiphany Before the Lockout.
At the eleventh hour. When the clock read ELEVENS!!!111!!! zOMG! NoooooooooEs!
(With much love to The Lounge.)
I had had the epiphany that
SheHasACliqueRoleWorthLookingIntoDeeper. I started asking around.
Primary Primate Field Notes: Revenge of the CliqueShortly after noon on the 21st, I discovered that my camp had been ransacked, my original notes stolen (but I have copies of key findings safely stored), and the DUngle screeching with the sounds of joyful poo flinging, celebrating the
Chimpanqueen's Comeback Kiddery. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Nailed to the outermost tree of the DUngle, crudely smeared in brown monkeyhand:
ERROR: Your posting privileges have been revoked.In my trips to the DUngle, I had considered that this might happen, if the
ActualAlphaApe ever got angry enough.
Primary Primate Field Notes: The Fallback Camp's Lookout PointHaving studied human nature and primate nature, the possibility of being cast out in a sneak attack had been planned against, and
precautionized.
It was a near-certainty that the compulsive, pathological, histrionic need to exult in the
Putsch of the Primates would be evidenced. Luckily, Camera Crew B was set up to catch the whole thing as it unfolded.
Colleagues, please do not take insult at that link above. For the benefit of any lurking Primates, that is the
Simple English Wiki link for the word
Putsch, more suitable for those pedantic simpletons who display a perpetual pathological penchant for merely monkeying actual thinkers and doers with roted quotables.
Sure enough,
The Salute Thread ensued later that same day, right on cue. With the pygmy marmoset permitted to play lead kazoo, to signal the DUngle celebration.
There were copycats, and other hoots and hollers heard from elsewhere in the DUngle. But
The Salute Thread was the one to watch.
Doing so, it occurred to me that they were almost becoming too predictable. And that made me a little sad, actually, because primate tribes that become too predictable make for easy prey. And there's a General Election full of real predators coming, in case you haven't heard.
Having precautionized for this very contingency (being run out of Camp A), it was all recorded from Camp B, while observing this cardinal rule of primatology: to the maximum extent possible, don't break that fourth wall. This is one of the most important things Dr. Goodall teaches us when observing critter cliques in their natural habitat. When they don't realize they're being observed, the findings come faster, are more revealing, and provide deeper scientific insights.
Among those reporting back from their own vantage points, are some that the Founder himself would least expect, I suspect. Antipathy to what's been going on in the DUngle (and in the mods’ hot tub, where the
MEREgistrates aren't as universally liked as they seem to think) runs deep.
It was one of those disaffected folks who, post-exile from the DUngle, clued me in to the full extent of The
MEREgistrate's relationship with
SheWho. I was incredulous, even though I myself had asked the salient question that yielded the jaw-dropping answer: “So, what’s the story with
SheWho and The
MEREgistrate?”
Fact-checking ensued. And, sweet
Ma'ams and sugary
Sirs, I'm here to tell you that The
MEREgistrate only addresses one person in the DUngle as
HONEY: the one and only
SheWhoMustBeJoking.
HeWhoMustBePitied started a very interesting, very personal thread this past Thanksgiving, about his model airplane enthusiasm. Under different circumstances - and certainly without that Sir-Schtick-a-Lot routine of his -
I would've enjoyed comparing notes with him about our mutual aviation history enthusiasms.
On one small thing, I have finally found common ground with
SheWho. The miniature model airplanes her husband so lovingly builds are, indeed, intricate wonders.
That said, I'm truly grateful that my partner of nearly 14 years doesn't publicly humiliate me (e.g., by suggesting that a painstaking, original creative work of mine would look better, if I'd only let him have the final word by adding
a final glittery, rhinestone touch). Poor
HeWhoShouldBePitied.
45. They are things of beautyLittle jewels. Though I still maintain they would look better if you let me glue some rhinestones on them.As a demonstration of her good judgment (or lack thereof), and as a demonstration of her fitness (or lack thereof) to be in the same room with (or within a country mile of) the moderator or administrator tools of that site, I can think of no more fitting commentary than her own glittering, rhinestone words.
And I bet
The MEREgistrate’s Misused Gavel has been Bedazzled.
Primary Primate Field Notes: "CorpGovActivist, I presume?"Just as I was contemplating the long trek back from the DUngle to civilized humankind, to tell my story and share my findings, I was surprised to be approached, virtually, by a familiar mental bi-ped.
"CorpGovActivist, I presume," the virtual mental bi-ped might well have uttered, to have made the moment that much more bizarre and surreal.
To make a short sidestory short, I was airlifted out. Tended to. Cared for. Fed. Re-oriented to civilized human conversation.
In short, I was welcomed to
DemocraticWarrior with open arms.
Like the reported (but perhaps apocryphal) story of
Dr. Livingstone's astonishment:
"You have told me curious things and wonderful, but there is a limit--when you tell me the Democrats have nominated Greeley for President I am hanged if I will believe it."I, too, find myself astonished to learn of so many new-fangled and wondrous things at DW. (As far as I'm concerned, it is: All the D. Double the U.)
And the Democrats are, once again, about to nominate one hell of a shocker for good old Dr. Livingstone - given his full history, he must be watching our Earthly Jungle Book with excitement. No breaking the fourth wall from him, though, either.
Primary Primate Field Notes: Re-Entry ShockSome weeks ago, I sent what I thought was a rational, albeit modest, suggestion to the
Man behind the Curtain at that other site:
start a new group for opposition research, to allow those of us with a penchant for going after the likely GOP ticket-toppers to form a team, a vanguard to take on the GOP. Give us an outlet outside of the rancor.
Imagine my re-entry shock, to find that it's already well under way at
DemocraticWarrior.com.
Yesterday, finally feeling re-oriented enough to take a stab at some writing again, I started contributing in that forum:
Oppo Research: A First Principles Primer. This is what I had in mind to do at the DUngle.
But they're too busy playing at being
Feces Flingers and
HilBorgs.
Yes, the advanced, grown-up, inclusive, and collaborative interface of DW takes some getting used to; but then again, I don't need my marmoset mini-muffins fed to me while I self satisfy under a small leaf, like the
Littlest Lemur.
I'm a big boy with the all-important necessary accessories to fully make use of the opposable thumb: a well-developed neo-cortex (that finds value in a wide range of cultural touchstones throughout the ages), an understanding of history and human nature, and an ability to apply those dusty roted quotables to modern life in fresh, new, exciting, and original ways.
I can feed myself. And do. Both literally, and intellectually, just fine, thank you very much.
Oh, but the added joy of having
civilized conversation to go with the meal? That, my friends and colleagues?
That is priceless beyond compare, or my ability to thank you for, yet: thank you DemocraticWarrior.com, for setting a place for me at your elegant, civilized, and well-appointed table.
Thank you, also, to The Lounge crew at the DUngle, who made me laugh in uproar when I was nearly crippled by Crohn's pain. Thank you to the Edwards campers who didn't browbeat me when my support for Hillary was waning, but who did point me to helpful facts that eased the switch. Thank you to the Obama campers who didn't rub it in when Edwards pulled out.
Thank you, also, to the
grief, swarm, and lock clique, for proving, once again why every public school system in America should have
Lord of the Flies as required reading. You're nothing more than
The MEREgistrates' Marauding Monkees now. And now that you have a taste of ManMeat, you're no good to anyone on that board, and certainly not to
SheYouShillFor.
HeWhoShallBePitied wrote in
The Salute Thread, of his
basic standard for getting along with children, namely being able to hold up their end of a conversation.
Leaving aside what a cold and curmudgeonly thing that is to say of
any child, I have both a more nurturing view, as well as a higher standard for myself and the child(ren) in question in any such interaction.
A conversation with children should teach more than
MERE rote memory of pedantic proverbs. Rather, it should teach applied respect for the free marketplace of ideas. That means respecting the child's viewpoints and cultural touchstones, too - not just the adult's.
Such a conversation should teach about things like the
categorical imperative, with thought-provoking object lessons about such things as how one might craft a
categorical imperative-bound rule for how to fairly wield the gavel in a group of humans. And I'm here to tell you, I outwield a gavel on The
MEREgistrate every day of the week, and twelve times on Sundays.
He is unfit to mod. And I wouldn't let him and his dank view of the world near any child I care about.
The onus should be on the adult in any such an interaction to tailor the object lessons for the age and personal abilities of each child, with added, extra effort expended to learn what the
child's own interests are (in order to firmly root those lessons in soil that will hold lifelong interest).
The onus should not be on the child to
MERELY grow into the ossified mold of the would-be teacher. New wine. Old bottles. Even Jesus Himself gave The
MEREgistrate a clue there. I’m sure The
MEREgistrate can quote it from his hoary head, if not show applied comprehension with whatever's left of his hypocrite's heart.
Indeed, the natural flow of children's banter could teach
HeWhoShouldBePitied a thing or two about the organic way in which even children learn to converse with one another, absent all the stilted, faux formality.
Cripes! Even
Stewie Griffin can relate to the world more naturally. Even when it's just
Bertram and him, or
Brian and him – and those are some fairly stilted conversations, at times.
Primary Primate Field Notes: The Flinging Fishwife Speaks to the King and of the King Any Damn Way She LikesIn Medieval France, the <fishwives> in Paris were known for their special privilege of being able to speak frankly to the King himself, when he ventured into the marketplace, and voice criticism without fear of punishment.
Now that the others on DU who've vaguely sensed this clique's existence know that
SheWhoMustBeObeyed has been given that special privilege by the King of the site Himself (whether by tacit neglect or absolute fiat), and now that they know she is married (literally) to the King's
MEREgistrate, let me make one more revelation:
In this
thread discussing my expulsion from the DUngle, the lovable little scamp of a pygmy marmoset, DUpidMonkey, let this tidbit slip out, no doubt shared with him by The
MEREgistrates from the computer room of
MEREgistrateManor:
Last night, he scoured through all the old threads in GD-P and kicked every anti-Clinton one he could find with a single period. No comment - just a kick. That's purely disruptive, and meant to skew the board.That's right. Not only has The King of that site made this couple his own private latter-day
Committee of Public Safety, his own private DUfarges, but the evidence even suggests that they and other mods in the clique, acting under the
MEREgistrates' tutelage, are passing back secrets about regular users' posts and posting patterns.
What the other,
lesser political animals in the DUngle will do with this information, now that it is out there, is up to each to decide for him, her, or itself.
But the DUngle is not the only jungle in sight. I am proof that there is life after the DUngle.
Primary Primate Field Notes: Animal RescueI once wrote - and still mean - that
I Love this DUsfunctional Family!To try to make the light-hearted point (between South Carolina and Florida) that all of the arguing going on at the time was like certain fictional dysfunctional (but ultimately loving) families, I posted pictures of a few of my personal favorites:
The Oblongs
The Addams Family
The Munsters
The Beverly Hillbillies
Family Guy
The SimpsonsI then edited the OP, as an afterthought, to refine my intended point, by noting that "Soon, soon..." we'd be back to:
The Waltons
Little House on the PrairieEither while I was making that afterthought edit, or shortly before or after, who do you think responded?
HeWhoShouldBePitied! He was even the very first response!
1. The Addamses, Sir, Are The Only Ones Worth Knowing"We feast on those who would devour us."Now, if this guy isn't a
FIRST CLASS ASS, stuck with the very life partner he deserves (and vice versa) then I'm a pygmy marmoset's ball louse, fourth-class. Hanging from the short and curly viney jungle of the left lemur-nut (not the right, freeper one; after all, even at fourth-class, there are progressives hanging out).
Still.
At the time, I rolled my eyes when I read his response. But, I took in a deep breath, and gave it an honest try, in part because - when it comes to classic Addams Family episodes - I never look a gift horse of a fellow fan in the mouth.
Maybe, I thought, this might give us a fistful of common ground and we can take it from there and maybe build a little more.
Still. The other thought was there, too.
Who has the arrogance to say, in essence, 'your other cited cultural touchstone references are NOT worthwhile.'?!?Setting the latter sentiment aside, I replied, with a toast, and a "Best, - Dave," as follows:
2. I Have EVERY ONE of the Addams Family Classic Series!Now, if you scroll thru that thread, you'll find that
Missus MEREgistrate was right about one thing: I did kick that thread at various times, over the course of several day, when the discussion board got really hot.
Why?
My hope and my sincere intent in doing so, was to remind everyone that we were, in fact, still a family. DUsfunctional, maybe. But still. A Family.
But as her harangue-utan of a husband points out, their tribal monkeymotto is, "We feast on those who would devour us." He should've added: "and if we decide to feast on you anyway just because we are in control, we’ll try to revise history to say you were intent on devouring us."
And - as her harangue-utan of a husband demonstrates time and again, he's more than arrogant enough to impose his rigid, faux formal, pedantic teaching style on children and adults alike. That applies to his mod style, too, apparently.
It is not long now, methinks, until the outcry of "We declare SHENANIGANS!" becomes an overwhelming chorus over there.
Unfortunately for that arrogant DUfargey DUo, they probably don't get that cultural reference, either, I'm willing to bet. It's from
South Park, which like so much other modern day parodies and satirical shows, has a low-brow outer shell.
Fauxllectuals judge books and all kinds of things by their covers, though. The episode in question entails the main characters declaring SHENANIGANS on the fly-by-night carnival operators who blow into their town.
Yup, the DUrnival is in town, and the Owner of the DUrnival has Mister and Missus
MEREgistrate taking tickets, punching tickets, running the shell games, and helping make sure that any credible, demonstrable, provable cries of
SHENANIGANS! are deleted, locked, renditioned, and hustled off the carnival grounds before anyone else can hear.
Serious protest groups have tapped into this episode to cry SHENANIGANS! There's even
video proof. Like it or not, the mass appeal of
South Park makes this a brilliantly effective use of a seemingly low-brow piece in aid of a very noble purpose: protest in America. Free speech. The right to peaceably assemble.
One imagines certain little boys eventually declaring SHENANIGANS! on a bitter, old, out-of-touch, ossified curmudgeon who tells them that cultural touchstones of
their generation are not worthwhile.
But at least their Grandma is teaching them all the gutter words necessary to tell Grandpa where to go, how to get there, and what to do with himself upon arrival.
What an unrepentant and unmitigated
PYGMY MARMOSET'S ASSWORM he truly is.
The
DUrnival Operator and his
DUrnie Duo, the
MEREgistrates, are doing a mighty fine job of protecting the other fauxllectuals there, too. But they’re simultaneously driving away the real thinkers, who genuinely desire to see the most electable progressive possible head up the ticket.
It honestly makes one wonder whether the Yale connection between the
DUrnival Operator and the Clintons has anything to do with the obvious bias, complicity, and DUplicity.
While the
DUrnival Operator and his
DUrnie DUo protect fauxminists and every other form of fauxllectual known to lurk within the deep recesses of the progressive movement, they drive away those who ask honest questions that are designed to put the primaries to their proper purpose: namely, to produce a thorough and fair crucible that vets the eventual nominee, and which produces the most electable progressive possible.
I don't suffer
Feces Flinging Fools gladly, but I do believe in
longsuffering as a gift. I was, after all, raised in a Pentecostal denomination. But I have suffered these
F-ing Fools long enough.
The DUrnival Operator has associated himself with, backed, covered up for, and aligned himself with the grief, swarm, and lock clique. That much is now beyond dispute.
$HENANIGANNER$ of a $hell game, tho$e three.
I was definitely right about one thing in one DW thread I started this week: the DUpidMonkey and his toady, Maddy, are playing understudy all right ... to the MEREgistrates, who “regale” (anyone who can bear to listen) about their Chicagoland days. Methinks HeWhoMustBePitied fancies himself a DU mob boss.
And both miserable pairs will grief, swarm, lock, set upon, and devour anyone their paranoid primate braintrust thinks is out to get them. Or, hell. Just anyone they don't like. Or agree with. Or, just because they can.
No, I do NOT suffer Feces Flinging Fools of this sort gladly. And enough is way too much already.
This sermon has run - not long - but truly Pentecostalong. Don't complain. At least your pew's not made of wood.
If there is one takeaway lesson here for those with wisdom enough to take it, however, it's this:
It takes a Pentecostal INTJ a lot longer than most to stop turning the other cheek, but when you reach the end of the line on that magic number of cheek turns, TheyWhoMustBeCorrectedandRebuked take heed, and everyone get the hell out of the way.
Because there's gonna be a revival. Fair warning.
We will end with a few more Quintilian quotes for the PedanticWonder to rote up on, and all who need to, please: take the damn point!
Ambition is a vice, but it may be the father of virtue.The ambitions of the
grief, swarm, and lock clique that currently controls DU to further, perpetuate, and deepen their control of DU has, indeed, become virtue's parent. Sites like
DemocraticWarrior.com are the proof and the progeny. So are the brave actions of some old school mods and others who remember the old days, and who have had The
MEREgistrates pegged for a while now.
When defeat is inevitable, it is wisest to yield.That's not quite the whole truth, or the wisest form of it.
It's wisest to yield with true contrition and true remorse, every bit as public as the intellectually-dishonest actions that necessitated the yield in the first place.
There's a lesson for children and adults alike in this.
Here endeth the sermon.
- Dave
To channel the Breathless Bostonian at DU: You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.
