The New Conservative Orwell is, Finally, Consonant with Conservative Values

I’ve decided to get out of the academia game while the going’s so abysmal there’s a chance that hope might peak behind a horizon, and like many a former liberal turned charlatan, I’ve decided to leave academia an albatross trove of intellectual history that’ll include “so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant.”

The first component of my donated library of significant foretelling is a study in modesty, entitled simply Dinner Party One. The book consists of the first time its hostess, Laura Stoddard, embellished her “lovely hand lettered type” with charming watercolors that depicted Laura’s own unique brand of humor. No stockpile, no matter how fanciful it’d rather now be, could survive a nuclear winter without the cards and invitations outline in Dinner Party One.

Now that everyone is inclined to be excessively polite despite the caffeine coursing through our theirs veins, it is time to turn to more serious matters. Back in 150, W. Bernard King was us of the dangers of Chemistry, elementary (The New Littlefield college outlines), but did we listen? Not only didn’t we listen, we refused to read its slim 216 pages despite the fact they were in English. The fact that not a single “intelligent” “liberal” bothered to read any of the forty books he read says all you need to know about what goes on in those colleges your so-called betters want your children to attend.

That time can be better spent reading Alphonse Daudet–not the crank who wrote all those awful French novels–but the English author who’s Letters to my mill, to which are added Letters to an absent one. Some men are capitalists, and as such should be applauded for their obvious commitment to our cause. But there are others who send today’s mill a bouquet of her beloved peonies while lining absent’s deck with lavender enough to mind the headwinds of a whorehouse.

But perhaps no single book in my new library belongs as much as in yours as Richard M. Fenker’s Where Rainbows Wait for Rain: The Big Bend Country. As the saying goes, possession of this chestnut makes one healthy, wealthy, and more able to forgive a national debt than most countries in human history. It is a must have for anyone who’s every been afraid of anything.

Now, I want everyone to line up behind those links and Do The Reynolds!

Da Da Da!

Click Click Click!

Da Da Da!

Smith Smith Smith!

Hey! Don’t be naughty Glenn, your rainbows won’t be waiting for my rain much longer … so long as that colorful brat from Big Bender Country keeps her distance.