The theme today is an especially satisfying one: lefties reaping what they sow.
Exhibit A: Stephen King.
I long ago had to make my peace with the idea that many talented people in the arts whose work I really enjoy are actually – when they are not making good music or movies or writing good books — bitter leftists who, if they knew me personally, would hate me and everything I stand for.
And I am absolutely adorable, and accustomed to nothing but praise from all who know me, so that really hurts.
Nevertheless, I’ve had to manfully struggle on, knowing that even though I like Springsteen’s music, and DeNiro’s and John Cusack’s acting, and Ken Burns’ documentaries, I have to separate the artist from the art. Because in these and so many other cases, the artists are boneheads, or worse.
Which brings me to Stephen King. I’ve read a lot of his work over the years with a lot of enjoyment. True, most of it was decades ago. The early novels and novellas entertained me and creeped me out, and I’ve got a lot of his tomes on my shelves in the library in Stately Simpson Manor.
But he’s been a vitriolic, bile-filled loon on the subject of politics for pretty much his whole life. Which is why I’ve been especially pleased to see him getting hoist on his own political petard by his leftist co-religionists this week.
It turns out that he committed the unpardonable sin: he resisted the fascist pull of identity politics. When commenting on complaints that this year’s Oscar nominees are too white, King said, “For me, the diversity issue — as it applies to individual actors and directors, anyway — did not come up. That said… I would never consider diversity in matters of art. Only quality. It seems to me that to do otherwise would be wrong.”
That’s a logical and ethical statement. So of course the SJW’s went nuts, attacking him as a racist white guy who cannot talk about race because his white privilege has kept him from understanding any kind of struggle. (Never mind that King was an underclass poor kid raised by a single mother who lived in a shabby trailer until his novel Carrie became a surprise best-seller.)
King quickly went wimpy, tweeting about how minorities are “shut out of the game,” but I can only hope that the leftist trolls and censors show him the same grace that he’s shown conservatives over the years. That is to say, I hope they assail and harass him at every turn, until that glorious day when this thought occurs to him: the people I’ve been aligning myself with are small-minded racial bean-counters and bigots. Maybe I should pull my head out of my politics, and reconsider things.
Speaking of groups that are too white, how about Exhibit B: the Democrat debate line-up. How sweet is the irony that the party who constantly slanders conservatives as toxically white, and virtue signals ad nauseum about how racially diverse they are ends up with a debate stage as white as Fargo in the winter. As white as a Siberian tiger in winter. As white as Edgar Winter.
Almost as white as… Elizabeth Warren. (#wemustneverstopmockingher)
And the vanilla icing on that vanilla cake on the bone china plate sitting on a white marble counter-top: the minority candidates are gone because they couldn’t get the votes of… Democrats! Racist, klan-loving, Jim Crow-supporting, Dixie-whistling Democrats!
I’ve loved watching various MSM commentators waxing outraged at great length about how unfair it is that all the minority mediocrities are gone, shunted aside by the votes of a racist American electorate. Yet somehow, none of them ever mentions that not a single Republican has voted yet. By the logic of their own egregious identity politics, the Democrats are terrible, terrible bigots.
And they’re not wrong.
Exhibit C. The Oscars are going host-less. And after the verbal napalming that Ricky Gervais gave the sanctimonious, hypocritical Hollywood Left at the Golden Globes, I don’t blame them.
But this should give them pause. Because their vicious, narrow-minded, humorless hatefulness has become so venomous that it has turned what used to be one of the most sought-after, high-profile, prestigious gigs in their industry into a lose-lose proposition that no one in their right mind would consider taking on.
Every reasonable human in Hollywood would rather carpool with Soleimani than host the Oscars!
This is why you can’t have nice things, Hollywood. This, right here.
Exhibit D. Visitors to Glacier National Park over the last 20 years or so may have noticed signs all over the place that proclaimed, “These glaciers will be gone by 2020.”
But you may have noticed, if you have been to Montana — or can read, or watch tv, or surf the internet, or have even intermittently functioning neural synapses – the glaciers are all still there.
If you are a normal person, and you put up signs warning of an apocalyptic environmental disaster that will strike in 2020… but it’s now 2020, and that disaster hasn’t happened… you would feel a little sheepish. You might think things like, “How could I have been so wrong?” and “Maybe the alarmist weirdos I’ve been following are not scientific geniuses, but just… alarmist weirdos.”
That’s what you might do if you were a normal person who put up those signs.
But the people who put up those signs are not normal people, but Gaia-worshiping political zealots who wouldn’t know the Maunder Minimum from an aggressive case of genital warts.
So they tried to sneakily replace those signs last year, without admitting how ridiculously wrong they have been. Somebody noticed, and started posting pictures of the idiotic signs, and now the story has exploded in the alarmists’ faces.
As I mentioned in my last column, one of my goals is to always try to learn from my mistakes. But not these knuckleheads. They might have predicted 135 of the last 3 disasters, but they are not deterred. And they’ve got a plan to deal with the next disasters, don’t you doubt it.
Oddly enough, step one is to transfer a bunch of your money and freedom to a bloated federal government.
Cut out a bunch of copies of the number 3, and start duct-taping them over the number 2 in the signs that warn that the glaciers will disappear by 2020.
Finally, in the tradition that I started last Fall, I have another lovingly written haiku in honor of each of the most recent Democrat candidates who have dropped out of the race: Julian Castro and Spartacus Booker.
Fitting name, Castro.
Abortions for trans women?
Those are men, you dope!
Bug-eyed race baiter.
You call yourself Spartacus?
Not so Smartacus.
Avenatti – Missing Glaciers, 2020!