"I can’t answer this question, but it’s something I’m going to chew on for a long time. People naturally assume that the intellectual paradigms they are born into are the default state. But that’s not necessarily true. Why couldn’t it be the case that “modern conservatism” as it has euphemistically been called—meaning conservatism as it existed in the Republican party from roughly Eisenhower to the Bushes—was a temporary aberration? What if True Conservatism was always the blood-and-soil view that dominated the American right before the Cold War?
What if Trump isn’t a fulfillment of “modern conservatism,” but the book closing on that errant period and conservatism returning to what it has traditionally been in American history?"
People corn? Hah! There is a place just to the northeast of where we are about to move and only (used to be, it may have changed in the interceding years) accessible to the general public by a temporary bridge they reinstall every summer when the level of the river recedes enough to allow it that the locals call Pepperwood (and neighboring Shively) where they grow the best corn and tomatoes in the world. Something about the land being flooded each year by the river in the winter, I'm told, but when I was a kid it was trip on a Saturday in the pickup to go and buy some flats of tomatoes and as much corn as our little arms could carry right off of the cornstalks, and man was it ever good. When I worked at a restaurant in the eighties that fancied itself "California Cuisine", the owners took trips up the coast in the summer to bring back tomatoes that we could brag about on the menu, and once when I was doing home delivery, we delivered a refrigerator to the house at an organic farm in Sonoma County that grew corn and tomatoes. I, being the smartass that I am, asked the woman if her corn and tomatoes were as good as Pepperwood corn and tomatoes and her expression went cold as stone. Then, when we were done with the delivery, she came around from the side of the house with an armload of freshly picked corn and handed it to Everett and I while letting us know in a deadpan "My grandmother grew up in Shively." I, knowing how these things work and having much better teeth than I do now, shucked one of the ears and began eating it. Everett, who was a Republican, Deadhead, and had a masters in poly-sci from Stanford, didn't know you could just eat corn like that and waited to see the woman's reaction before he shucked one of his ears... Thank you again for the podcast. I still believe that if we can live through this administration, we can turn things around, but living through it won't be easy or a sure bet. Still, what else are we gonna do?
Jonathan V. Last, catching up. At last.
ReplyDeleteAt The Bulwark. The bulwark was built after they welcomed the barbarians into town.
He is so clever by mentioning leopards. Where does the imagination come from?
https://www.thebulwark.com/p/bonfire-of-the-leopard-face-eating
"I can’t answer this question, but it’s something I’m going to chew on for a long time. People naturally assume that the intellectual paradigms they are born into are the default state. But that’s not necessarily true. Why couldn’t it be the case that “modern conservatism” as it has euphemistically been called—meaning conservatism as it existed in the Republican party from roughly Eisenhower to the Bushes—was a temporary aberration? What if True Conservatism was always the blood-and-soil view that dominated the American right before the Cold War?
What if Trump isn’t a fulfillment of “modern conservatism,” but the book closing on that errant period and conservatism returning to what it has traditionally been in American history?"
People corn? Hah! There is a place just to the northeast of where we are about to move and only (used to be, it may have changed in the interceding years) accessible to the general public by a temporary bridge they reinstall every summer when the level of the river recedes enough to allow it that the locals call Pepperwood (and neighboring Shively) where they grow the best corn and tomatoes in the world. Something about the land being flooded each year by the river in the winter, I'm told, but when I was a kid it was trip on a Saturday in the pickup to go and buy some flats of tomatoes and as much corn as our little arms could carry right off of the cornstalks, and man was it ever good. When I worked at a restaurant in the eighties that fancied itself "California Cuisine", the owners took trips up the coast in the summer to bring back tomatoes that we could brag about on the menu, and once when I was doing home delivery, we delivered a refrigerator to the house at an organic farm in Sonoma County that grew corn and tomatoes. I, being the smartass that I am, asked the woman if her corn and tomatoes were as good as Pepperwood corn and tomatoes and her expression went cold as stone. Then, when we were done with the delivery, she came around from the side of the house with an armload of freshly picked corn and handed it to Everett and I while letting us know in a deadpan "My grandmother grew up in Shively." I, knowing how these things work and having much better teeth than I do now, shucked one of the ears and began eating it. Everett, who was a Republican, Deadhead, and had a masters in poly-sci from Stanford, didn't know you could just eat corn like that and waited to see the woman's reaction before he shucked one of his ears...
ReplyDeleteThank you again for the podcast. I still believe that if we can live through this administration, we can turn things around, but living through it won't be easy or a sure bet. Still, what else are we gonna do?
-Doug in Sugar Pine