…does not exist in the United States, for any practical purpose.

What does exist is a strong strain of anti-Elitistism (to coin a clumsy word; suggestions welcome). The two are easily confused, because elitists are typically educated beyond their real intellectual capacity. Their reasoning isn’t any better, and their conclusions are often worse, than anyone else’s, but they know all the keywords and historical quotes needed to armor-plate their errors. This borrowed rhetorical facility they attribute to intellectual superiority, because that allows them to lift their noses above the stall AOA and and sneer, “You rubes just don’t understand.”

The United States was originally founded and populated by people who had become disgusted by dealing with that attitude in people who claimed authority over their lives but absolved themselves of any responsibility to demonstrate competence in exercising that authority. It’s not an accident that disrespect for the attitude is a large countercurrent in American thinking.

When elitists get the bit in their teeth and start galloping, history demonstrates that the same thing always happens. The details are different from case to case, but broadly:

1) They start grabbing with both hands. All the resources are theirs by right, to dispose of as they please without regard to origin or source, and they please to distribute them to and among themselves.

This does not mean that direction, management, and leadership aren’t desirable or necessary, or that we want such to emanate from the stupid and ignorant. The metaphor I like is “somebody’s got to drive.” Furthermore, good management is hard work even if it doesn’t normally raise a sweat, and deserves to be rewarded appropriately.

It also does not mean that the driver and associates get the ham, haunch, and side-meat, and the rest must subsist on trotters and snout-gristle.

2) They always fuck it up, and they always fuck it up in the same way.

Returning to the “driver” metaphor, the way elites get behind the wheel is by assuring the passengers that they needn’t worry, they’ll get where they want to go and the ride will be smooth and problem-free; just sit back and relax. There’ll be an announcement when we get there, and occasional notes on the scenery we pass, and the bar is well-stocked with drinkables and snacks to nosh on. We have a map! The road ahead is clear!

Trouble is, they drew the map without reconnoitering the territory, and in fact have no more notion of what’s ahead than anybody else, because like everyone else their future-looking time machine doesn’t work except in unreliable fits and starts. Furthermore, the territory they’re driving us into changes — see my notes on the fractal nature of the Universe. Unexpected intersections and roundabouts pop up continually, and their Plan, their infallible map, either leaves out some of the side-branches or fails to show the intersection altogether. Nevertheless they bull ahead, all the while issuing reassurances.

When the passengers complain that the Sun is on the wrong side for the direction originally proposed, or that the speed is too high for road conditions, the elitists sneer. Shut up and sit back! Everything’s fine! We have the map and you don’t, and anyway we’re driving and you aren’t! Eventually the vehicle runs out of fuel, stranding everybody at the back of nowhere with no way forward or back, and the elitists grab the picnic hamper and scream, It’s all your fault! You jogged our elbows!


The one, teeny, dim, un-reassuring light ahead is that, this time, the elitists have restricted their educations to an extremely limited and narrow view, and produced a map with no intersections or rough pavement on it anywhere. It means the crash when they plow into the unexpected tee at maximum speed will be catastrophic, but maybe, just maybe, it means the survivors will be close enough to home to walk back.

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