No love for Grover

That's the word on the street.

It all began when Andrew Sullivan began talking sense again and moving away from the postmodern darkness.

First, Frankl lays bear the foolishness of the current political period.



Why Victor Frankl is the master. The one book my dad remembered from college, the last time I talked with him. And for good reason.

The cynics are wrong. And Victor explains well, here, and as ever single smidgeon of empirical evidence in the world should make perfectly clear to anyone with their eyes open, at this point.

This Harry Reasoner documentary has excellent observations about human nature.



Harry's right. Problem is group sainthood just is how all people operate, too often. All of us. Not just the hippies. In fact, the hippies did their bit to help move us more away from all that. Beams and splinters and all that. Without even a shred of doubt in our wisdom. The sign of true wisdom, apparently. Or perhaps vanity. Same as it ever was.

The cynicism is not only wrong. It makes things worse. As Victor well argues. Because without thinking of how we should be, we cannot be what we could be. Which is exactly what has happened in the last 10 years, in particular. But, really, is, tragically, so much of human history.

And our fate is more of the same. Until we choose differently. Until we choose to be better, for real. The only path to honest progress.

Everything else is a means of frustrating honest progress. For everyone involved.

I like the way Jack said it better, personally.



The path to progress, you wonder. Freedom or repression?

Mark Twain knew. John Stuart Mill did too. So did Lord Acton, Baron de Montesquieu, Voltaire, Mary Wolstonecraft and everyone else who made our free world possible.

Perhaps everyone else has outthunk them?

Perhaps that isn't vanity. Perhaps it's progress. Damn the stinkin' consequences.

Or, perhaps, as it turns out, you, too, are human. As subject to original sin, especially the deadliest of sins - pride - as anyone else. Perhaps there are no saints among us. Perhaps there really is noone without sin.

Perhaps that means you, too, Captain Infallible. Leaping human nature with a single line of bullshit.

It's a bird. It's a plane.

Awwww. It's just lovable old Grover.

And who doesn't love Grover?

Jesus Christ, that's who. And the liberal democratic world, apparently.

Liberal democracies. Hatin' on furry monsters since the dawn of furry monsters.

No love for you, Grover.