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Tuesday, May 31, 2011

CHUCK ROGÉR: DOMINIQUE STRAUSS-KAHN AND NAKED LIBERALS

 

Originally at American Thinker, May 25, 2011

A piece on Forbes.com recently caught my attention. Editor Michael Noer had the opportunity to peruse the book, La Seduction: How the French Play the Game of Life. On scanning the pages, Noer ran across a photo of former International Monetary Fund Managing Director and now-accused sex offender, Dominique Strauss-Kahn. Noer quoted the photo’s caption.

Dominique Strass-Kahn, the director of the International Monetary Fund and a former French finance minister.  Rumors that he is a womanizer have livened up Paris dinner parties for years, with some people expressing quiet admiration that such a high-profile political figure can find time for an active social life.

Noer’s reaction: “Wow. Just wow.”

Agreed.

There’s something intellectually, morally, indeed stunningly vacuous about global elitists who admire a womanizer specifically for finding time to womanize. But hip liberals—we know them when we see them—don’t just admire, but in fact idolize the world’s DSKs, those “high-profile political figure[s]” who “find time” away from issuing noble but absurd pronouncements to engage in low-profile debauchery.

In the case of DSK, liberals have a man who only a few months ago surveyed the planet, declared “New Policies for a New World” to be in order, and wrote a prescription to cure “increases in inequality that tugged at the social fabric” under “the old economic model.” The world, claims Dominique Strauss-Kahn, needs a new “global growth model.” Mysteriously, which is how life unfolds for liberals, DSK presented no convincing case that Earth has had anything resembling a “global growth model” at any point in history.

But providing socioeconomic breakthroughs is where the world’s DSKs come in. The anointed ones are supposed to create handy tools for social engineering. This is one of the duties that provide liberals the sought-after warm and fuzzy feeling, the deep-down satisfaction that drives liberals insane, the sensation of actually sipping martinis at a global cocktail party.

The aura that used to—hell, maybe still does—surround Dominique Strauss-Kahn, captured by the gushing glop of drivel that described the man’s photo in La Seduction, illustrates the disconnected nature of the world in which liberals live. The typical left-critter is a narcissist. Everything must come down to how the narcissist feels or how fellow liberals, admired by fellow narcissists, feel. “Oh how the world affects me and let me tell you about how that turns me on” is the narrative poised to burst from liberals’ mouths twenty-four-seven.

But for a real treat, watch a liberal gush about prominent elitists like DSK. The normally vanilla-flavored fuzzy-wuzzy feel-good sensation spikes into psychedelic turbocharged mode. La Seduction‘s admiration for a morally depraved Dominique Strauss-Kahn may be quintessentially French, and therefore essentially European. But for this very reason, the gushiness is also quintessentially liberal.

It all comes down to this.

Despite the over-the-top admiration liberals express for fellow travelers, the critters cannot identify with actual people. To the liberal, life is a concept. The world is a conglomeration of ideas. Anyone who openly shares ideas is to be venerated, as long as the ideas comprise utter nonsense. As long as said nonsense is politically correct and noble-minded—like calling for a “new global growth model” when no old global growth model ever existed—the purveyor of said nonsense is to be held in high esteem. Any disgusting behavior exhibited by the purveyor must either be ignored or offered in illustration of an “active social life.”

Liberals’ idols are people who think the way that denizens of the liberal echo-chamber are expected to think. Again, actions don’t matter. Not to the liberal, who has no use for the biological life-form that spouts a hypothesis. Only the hypothesis is important. For interacting with actual people who live in actual reality would burst the bubble of imaginings. Take away the imaginings, and the liberal is naked.

 

 

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