No, Salon – David Bowie Was Not Some Kind of Proto Bruce Jenner

No, Salon. This is quite incredibly boring of you, not to mention impertinent.

Obviously none of us can be sure what Bowie really wanted because he kept himself so beguilingly mysterious and opaque. But still, I’d hazard a guess that one of the things he definitely didn’t wish to be trivialised as when he went to the great black star in the sky was as the long-hair/gay rights activist/all purpose gender bender who gave us – by Salon’s account – ‘”that liberating feeling, the first time you realize that the right response to “Not sure if you’re a boy or a girl” is, “Who cares?”’
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The glory of David Bowie is that he was nobody’s bitch. He didn’t want to become a creature of the Establishment, which is why he resisted such baubles as the CBE (Companion of the British Empire) and a knighthood (unlike one or two less principled anti-establishment rock heroes we could mention, eh, Sir Mick?). But nor did he wish to become a creature of the counter culture, which is why, unlike the tedious Bono, he tended not to issue lofty pronouncements on political issues.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

Salon: Paris Was Wearing a Short Skirt

This time the preening apologist for terror is one Patrick L Smith, Salon’s “foreign affairs columnist” and a “longtime correspondent abroad, chiefly for the International Herald Tribune and The New Yorker” as well as “an essayist, critic and editor”.

His piece is headlined:

We brought this on ourselves: After Paris, it is time to square our “values” with our history
The West’s behaved horrifically in Middle East for decades. We can’t be surprised by Paris. Let’s look in a mirror

Smith has certainly stared long and hard into the mirror. And it’s clear he’s infatuated with what he sees.

You can tell from the (cackhanded attempt at) grandiloquence of his opening sentence:

Another horrific attack emanates from the shattered, shredded Middle East into the beating hearts of Western civilization.

And from priceless passages like this:

“Is this a September 11 for the French?” my other half asked as we watched the news last night. “Let there be no question,” I replied.

Yep, because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Patrick? You’re kind of like Gore Vidal would have been had been wiser, better connected and more fantastically opinionated and pleased with himself.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

Climate Pseuds Sail to Arctic, Make Wanky, Salon-Praised Movie, Disappear up Own Bottoms

“Daddy, what did YOU do in the Great Climate War?”

“Well, son. I voyaged up to the Arctic Circle in a nice big boat with a bunch of installation artists, mime practitioners, YouTube cat short specialists and climate scientists on an all-expenses trip to make a documentary called The Earth Is Weeping: Feel Her Pain. My contribution was a Concerto for Gamelan and Nose Flute entitled Swan Song Of The Melting Polar Bear.”

“Gosh, Daddy, it sounds like you made a really important contribution to raising awareness of Climate Change!”

“Oh, I did, son. I did. But the competition was stiff. Let me tell you, by the mid-2010s you could barely move in the Antarctic or the Arctic for self-proclaimed artists and explorers and “climate” “scientists” making utter dicks of themselves in the name of saving the planet from the deadly threat of ManBearPig. There was the Ship Of Fools expedition of 2013. And sundry expeditions conducted under the name Cape Farewell Project, in which luminaries such as Martha Wainwright, Laurie Anderson, Jarvis Cocker, Cormac McCarthy, Feist and “comedian” Marcus Brigstocke sailed north in order to create meaningful art projects on the theme of climate doom.”

“Wow, Dad. How could your Concerto for Gamelan and Nose Flute possibly compete with such rampant pretentiousness and pseudery?”

“Son, it gets worse. There was a film – a Danish film called Expedition To The End Of The World. It got reviewed very favourably in Salon. That was the moment when I knew for me that the Great Climate War was over. Frankly it made me feel like a rank amateur.”

“Gosh. It sounds terrible.”

“Let me quote from the Salon review to give you an idea.”

Set alternately to Mozart’s “Requiem” and blasts of Metallica, “Expedition” is like a stoned camping trip to an unimaginably distant location, where your companions are a group of brilliant intellectuals, artists and scientists. No underlying premise for the mission is ever spelled out, nor is the provenance of the antique vessel ever discussed. As for the mind-altering substance on this voyage, it’s not weed or LSD – although the movie does not show us everything that happens on shipboard at night – but the extraordinary setting, a pristine Arctic landscape of sea, land, ice and sky so isolated that it has never been mapped or explored. Climate change has opened the fjords of Greenland’s northeastern coast to marine traffic for the first time in recorded history, and the members of the Danish expedition were among the first human beings to enter them in thousands of years.

“But, Dad. That makes it sound like the Citizen Kane of crappy eco documentaries!”

“And I haven’t even got to the polar bear scene yet.”

“Tell me what Salon says about the polar bear scene.”

“Listen carefully son. You won’t believe your ears.”
Read the rest at Breitbart London

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