It Isn't Quite Ready, It's Only 5:30. One may be forgiven for supposing that nothing good could ever result from the emanation of a Jonah Goldberg "book." But one would be wrong.
As it happens, there exists an entire universe of activities that are "not reading a Jonah Goldberg book," and the overwhelming majority of these activities might be classified as "far preferable to reading a Jonah Goldberg book." And, remarkably, one of these activities includes "productive work."
BELIEVE IT OR NOT.
It's remarkable. The Internet by and large owes its success to its unsurpassed capacity to act as a Huge Distracting Thing, but put a Jonah Goldberg book anywhere near it, and Good Lord, suddenly you'd rather do quadratic equations, or use 1980s vintage encyclopedias to figure out upon what sea Albania verges, the chief features of its topography, and what its principal mineral resource just might constitute.*
You'd almost rather... work.
I know! Wild!
So, Jonah Goldberg could end procrastination as we know it. Huzzah!
But then, here we are.
I mean, in the interests of Having a Real Argument (we'll get to this, interminably), and To Be Fair (same thing), I will concede that the universe of activities preferable to "reading a Jonah Goldberg book" also includes "violently sticking a shrimp fork up your nostril."
And yeah, that often comes in second to working. By a nose. Hahahahaha.
What I mean is, kill me, I am going to read a Jonah Goldberg book.
Like, personally, this is akin to being handed a Sorcerous Object that informs you I open at the close....
Ugh, too geeky.
More butchly, for those about to mock, but are taking their time about it, we excuse you. Have a wee drinky drink, thanks awfully, don't mind if I do...
The colossus crawls. See, while I am procrastinating, I am going to read and review the whole frightful mess; this blog exists for the purpose of performing suchlike unholy enterprises, after all.
But I'm not proposing to buy the fucking thing.
I'm going to wait until it shows up at the local Barnes & Noble, read it there, sneeze on it, and then put it back on the shelf. It hasn't shown up yet. Checked yesterday. When it does, I will duly read n' sneeze.
So, then...
... uh...
... specifically, what, the perceptive reader may axe (and by "perceptive reader" I certainly don't mean you, redsnout), are you, Thers, procrastinating over, precisely, if it is not reading this Jonah Goldberg "book"?
Well, that is a good question, if posed rather rudely, and by the way, it is pronounced "ask," not "axe," you disgusting ill-educated filth-talker, your mother was a saint for not having you drowned at birth as a hopeless ill-spoken misfortunate.
Sorry. Lashing out.
I'm balking at an exploration of the Notices Thus Far, the appalling tedium of which ought to render my hasitency completely explicable.
The trouble I see....
A very heavy load. Oh Sweet Lord, is there ever so much hurting, it is deadly....
There's already so much tedious crap out there -- Goldberg's ponderously stupid disaster of an NPR interview, and the reviews -- where there is much hilarity. The sad git actually links to a glowing notice at something called The New York Journal of Books, which is kind of like bragging about the $4000 Swiss Watch you were shrewd enough to swindle a Bowery street vendor out of for twelve bucks and the rest of your hot dog.
The "New York Journal of Books."
I can't believe that exists, but it does. How can you even satirize these people?
HOW!
Next time you get sick you'll know. Well, it is Jonah Goldberg, the Laziest Man on Earth, whose Martian counterpart, Dropo, is filled with shame at the undignified comparison.
Here is (I shit you not) Jonah responding to even the mildest of criticisms:
I’ll get around to responding to his response when I have a second to catch my breath. I am underwhelmed.
I’m sorry for the quick rapid fire links, but I am quite simply exhausted. Also the Goldberg household is a depressing place at the moment as both my wife and daughter have been felled by terrible colds.
Aram Bakshian is mostly pleased with my effort, but there are few digs in there as well. I’ll take it.
When less exhausted and less pressed for time, I will probably respond.
"Dear National Review. My son Jonah's Very Serious Book just appeared. He is allergic to knowing what is in his books so please don't ask him questions that are hard or he will have hives. He has a Doctor's Note. Please excuse him from phys ed classes and give him a stipend."
BORED NOW. Goldberg wanks like no one else. Holy God.
*"Albania, Albania, you border on the Adriatic/ Your land is mostly mountainous/ Your main export is chrome."