The pond was wildly excited yesterday. The pond happened to pass a street library on the way to pick up a Lebanese treat. There, glowing like the holy grail, was a book, a mystical thing that the pond had never laid eyes on before. It was a transcendent, mystical moment ... it was F. A. Hayek's The Road to Serfdom.
How had it come to be there, and how did no one else manage to snatch the prize before the pond scored it? The library was beneath the local gulag, where they imprison kids in much the same way Benji's mob does with gulags. Who had dropped it there, why had it been cruelly tossed aside? Was it to rouse the tiny tots to revolutionary anger?
A closer inspection revealed that someone had paid a full $29.98 at Kinokuniya, and then hadn't disturbed the contents ... there wasn't the slightest sign of anyone ever having opened the book or read a word of it. No hint of a gift, a complete mystery, perhaps a complete waste of money.
Trembling, the pond lifted the virginal text, caressed it and immediately jumped to the end, and was astonished how clunky the writing was. Dull, tedious, academic. Who could write a sentence like this and expect to get away with?
The exposition of a point of view which for many years has been decidedly out of favour suffers from the difficulty that, within the compass of a few chapters, it is not possible to discuss more than some aspects of it.
The pond hastily flipped back to the "Conclusion" and discovered something even worse. It sounded like Hayek might have had some trouble with the mango Mussolini:
...The purpose of this book has not been to sketch a detailed programme of a desirable future order of society. If with regard to international affairs we have gone a little beyond its essentially critical task, it was because in this field we may soon be called upon to create a framework within which future growth may have to proceed for a long time to come. A great deal will depend on how we use the opportunity we shall then have. But whatever we do, it can only be the beginning of a new, long, and arduous process in which we all hope we shall gradually create a world very different from that which we knew during the last quarter of a century. It is at least doubtful whether at this stage a detailed blueprint of a desirable internal order of society would be of much use — or whether anyone is competent to furnish it. The important thing now is that we shall come to agree on certain principles and free ourselves from some of the errors which have governed us in the recent past. However distasteful such an admission may be, we must recognise that we had before this war once again reached a stage where it is more important to clear away the obstacles with which human folly has encumbered our path and to release the creative energy of individuals than to devise further machinery for "guiding" and “directing” them — to create conditions favourable to progress rather than to “plan progress". The first need is to free ourselves of that worst form of contemporary obscurantism which tries to persuade us that what we have done in the recent past was all either wise or inevitable. We shall not grow wiser before we learn that much that we have done was very foolish.
If we are to build a better world we must have the courage to make a new start — even if that means some reculer pour mieux sauter. It is not those who believe in inevitable tendencies who show this courage, not those who preach a “New Order ” which is no more than a projection of the tendencies of the last forty years, and who can think of nothing better than to imitate Hitler. It is indeed those who cry loudest for the New Order who are most completely under the sway of the ideas which have created this war and most of the evils from which we suffer. The young are right if they have little confidence in the ideas which rule most of their elders. But they are mistaken or misled when they believe that these are still the liberal ideas of the nineteenth century, which in fact the younger generation hardly knows. Though we neither can wish, nor possess the power, to go back to the reality of the nineteenth century, we have the opportunity to realise its ideals — and they were not mean. We have little right to feel in this respect superior to our grandfathers; and we should never forget that it is we, the twentieth century, and not they, who have made a mess of things. If they had not yet fully learnt what was necessary to create the world they wanted, the experience we have since gained ought to have equipped us better for the task. If in the first attempt to create a world of free men we have failed, we must try again. The guiding principle, that a policy of freedom for the individual is the only truly progressive policy, remains as true to-day as it was in the nineteenth century.
That flourish of French immediately established the scribbler as a faux member of the intelligentsia of a kind the reptiles despise. And what is this talk of a "truly progressive policy"? That sounds dangerously woke. Sure, he talked of creating a world of free men, but that's not enough. Keeping women in aprons in the kitchen was just pro forma for the times.
What is this lambasting of those who preach a "New Order"? Is there something wrong with MAGA? Is it, gasp, little better than someone who can think of nothing better to do than imitate Hitler?
As for the style, it was worse than reading Ayn Rand, an unimaginable concept. It reminded the pond of something Lenin, Marx or Adolf himself might churn out. The only ideological text the pond ever managed to read was a little bit of Trotsky ...
Never mind, the pond realises you could get a copy off the shelf in many formats at the archive, but that day pond dreams were cruelly shattered and hope turned to despair. Better to have stayed in the dream than discover this was what the reptiles recommended for bedtime reading.
At least he's in favour of the ideals of the nineteenth century, colonialism and imperialism, and the pond recalls with some pride that yesterday it published an urgent call for a breeding program for western civilisation to save it from replacement ...
Speaking of the ability to shatter dreams, and no, the pond isn't speaking of the battle for the UK Terror and the Speccie mob, as bad as it gets for white supremacists, Abu Dhabi-backed fund says it will take control of Telegraph and Spectator, the pond is talking of the lizard Oz.
Today is an epic day at reptile HQ and sacrifices had to be made ... because there perched in her favourite far right position was MAGA cap-donning Dame Slap and amazingly she wasn't scribbling about the Lehrmann matter, though it was right next to her...
Yes, it was going to be an epic day, because there was a "Ned" Everest to climb as well and somehow the pond also had to make room for a jolly good groaning ...
The pond does appreciate the bro's unrelenting war on China, but the pond figures it had the best of the bro yesterday, and with luck he'll get his war with China by Xmas, but in the meantime he had to go, and not far behind him was Captain Spud calling for "moral clarity" ...
And so into Uncle Elon's space rocket thingie - never mind the tendency to blow up - and off to pay a visit to planet Janet above the faraway tree ...
Sorry, was it wrong to put in a distraction, and a screen cap at that so you couldn't hear the comedy?
Is it so hard for the reptiles to step outside the hive mind that they can't even link to Twitter?
As for what "Ned" was blathering about, suffice to say that the pond has over the years developed a profound contempt for the man, and nothing in what he scribbled persuaded the pond to change its mind ...
The pond did learn one thing from its reading
It is indeed those who cry loudest for the New Order who are most completely under the sway of the ideas which have created this war and most of the evils from which we suffer. The young are right if they have little confidence in the ideas which rule most of their elders.
If "Ned's" idea of the future is to stay with Benji's mob through thick and thin, there isn't much of a future ...
And so, just to balance matters, to end with an infallible Pope ...
