COLLAPSE OF THE COLLABORATOR CLASS

Guest Post by Ol Remus

It’s encouraging to see the collapse of the collaborator class, namely, the Republican Party, where honest opinion was not merely unacceptable but a sure sign of some deeper defect. Integrity, perhaps. They warned us if we didn’t support them the other party would win. We did, but whether they won or didn’t, it was the same track, different pace. Odd, that. In time we came to understand them as just another DC club, just as obedient, just as annoyed by the peasants and just as dismissive. Just in the nicest possible way.

The liberals have a rule, “no enemies to the left”, meaning when they can’t speak well of the hard left they won’t speak of it at all. The Republican “conservative movement” has fallen all over itself to disown its equivalent, largely with acerbic purges by the likes of those at the National Review, sometimes career-ending, always about fringe issues or outright trivia. Over these many years that’s a lot of bath water and a lot of babies.

The Republican Party has conducted itself as a reliable franchise of its alleged opposition, betraying the trust and support of a generation. Events have confirmed those they expelled for being “too right” had the better claim to legitimacy, and in doing so, it has unwittingly run a bulletproof selection process for their own replacement. It’s gotten to where credibility and rejection by the Republican Party are pretty much the same thing. Cuckservatism is what some call it, in a fit of politeness. Next item please.

Let’s look at White Privilege, the activist plague ship now on sea trials, sailing as yet untroubled through the placid remains of analytical rigor. Stripped of its cloying, nasty-sweet marketing jargon, the particulars of White Privilege track the otherwise inchoate whines of their pet client, the overfed, limitlessly entitled and perpetually offended Struggling Single Parent Woman of Colour in the ‘Hood.

You’ve seen ’em. When they stand it’s like watching creation itself. From a formless puddley heap, lumps of varying heft and shapes emerge and align toward verticality. When up and walking they tip rhythmically from side to side, their flipper-arms rowing in cadence as if pantomiming penguins. It’s not an affliction, nor is it forced on them in any way, or a consequence of limited options, or carelessness, no, it’s a high-value, even erotic ‘look’ in their universe, intentionally acquired, maintained and displayed to full effect.

They’re easily as offensive in demeanor as their presentment forewarns; unvaryingly aggressive, crude, shrill, self-obsessed and incurious, with all the class and grace their costumes announce from the farthest limit of visibility. When encountered in public it’s like being stalked by construction equipment with a grudge. This is the role model of White Privilege, the shining apex to which all humanity most rightly aspires. Just ask ’em.

They’ll proudly tell you, with more than ample cursing and posing, they’re full time consumers, it’s what they do, they need to be fed, housed and otherwise provided for by unwilling but captive strangers, as simple justice demands. It’s a Human Right you see.

No other people resist being judged by the content of their character quite so belligerently. And it’s just here the symbiosis came into being. Dazzled by their combative inanity, savvy activists saw opportunity in blaming their doltish sloth on those compelled to all but adopt them and their feral broods. But even this wasn’t enough.

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White Privilege is an all-purpose magic force field. It says ordinary decency and work ethics, and any degree of personal success are disgustingly offensive. Because white. Instead, we’re expected to fervently and publicly reject our former selves, take our life’s lessons from their fever rants, demonstrate our everlasting devotion with perpetual servitude and self-laceration on demand, and by way of repentance for existing contemporaneously, service their insatiable cravings until they agree it’s “fully funded”. Or until fleeing to Mogadishu becomes more attractive.

For White Privilege careerists—expect brassy women who’d be more comfortable in leather, and vinegary men who in former times would have been rainmakers or sellers of potions—it’s a sweet setup: professional talkers who despise the industrious and conscientious, shilling for in-your-face hostile grifters, the tabs for both parties picked up by the object of their scorn by way of federal money-plumbing. As Bogart said about Wilmer: the cheaper the crook the gaudier the patter, and it don’t come no gaudier than White Privilege.

But why this and why now? A while back there was a serious uprising against professional voters and their enablers, so widespread and so well founded it was embarrassingly indefensible even by DC. Yes, it all came thisclose to hitting the fan.

They panicked. It was blindingly clear they’d lost control of their own narrative. The groundwork they’d laid in the ’30s had become boring and irrelevant, worse, the ’60s attempt at renewal was spectacularly discredited by the violence and insanity of its practitioners. Backtracking was too painful to even contemplate.

It was time to put down a new root system, one which would support the larger effort to come, which they did. Out with the clunky, antique economic blather of their Marxist grandparents, in with exhuming old grudges and inventing new ones, in with mobilizing their freeloader thugs on campus, in with mandatory perversion and the outrage of the week, in with nonstop demographic slander which, as White Privilege, criminalizes the middle America they hate so deeply.

You do understand, if we decline to cheerfully roll over for White Privilege it’s direct evidence we were crypto Darth Vaders all along, can’tcha? There’s the new game. Enjoy. Okay, enuffa this. What else?