The Hate Boat
by digby
Johann Hari has a wonderful piece up today about the National Review cruise. (Sadly No! has appropriately redone the Love Boat song to accompany it.)
It’s so disturbing and yet so funny that I’m sure TNR won’t mind if I share a few choice excerpts with you:
From time to time, National Review–the bible of American conservatism–organizes a cruise for its readers. Last November, I paid $1,200 to join them. The rules I imposed on myself were simple: If any of the conservative cruisers asked who I was, I answered honestly, telling them I was a journalist. But, mostly, I just tried to blend in–and find out what conservatives say when they think the rest of us aren’t listening.
[…]
To my left, I find a middle-aged Floridian with a neat beard. To my right are two elderly New Yorkers who look and sound like late-era Dorothy Parker, minus the alcohol poisoning. They live on Park Avenue, they explain in precise Northern tones. “You must live near the U.N. building,” the Floridian says to one of the ladies after the entrée is served. Yes, she responds, shaking her head wearily. “They should suicide-bomb that place,” he says. They all chuckle gently.
The conversation ebbs back to friendly chit-chat. So, you’re a European, one of the Park Avenue ladies says, before offering witty commentaries on the cities she’s visited. Her companion adds, “I went to Paris, and it was so lovely.” Her face darkens: “But then you think–it’s surrounded by Muslims.” The first lady nods: “They’re out there, and they’re coming.” Emboldened, the bearded Floridian wags a finger and says, “Down the line, we’re not going to bail out the French again.” He mimes picking up a phone and shouts into it, “I can’t hear you, Jacques! What’s that? The Muslims are doing what to you? I can’t hear you!”
Now that this barrier has been broken–everyone agrees the Muslims are devouring the French, and everyone agrees it’s funny–the usual suspects are quickly rounded up. Jimmy Carter is “almost a traitor.” John McCain is “crazy” because of “all that torture.” One of the Park Avenue ladies declares that she gets on her knees every day to “thank God for Fox News.” As the wine reaches the Floridian, he sits back and announces, “This cruise is the best money I ever spent.”
Virtually all the usual suspects are there, crazy as bedbugs, ranting about the Muslims coming to kill us in our beds — or worse, outbreed “us”. But there are a few exceptions, such as Rich Lowery:
Then, with a judder, the panel runs momentarily aground. Rich Lowry, the preppy, handsome 38-year-old editor of National Review, announces, “The American public isn’t concluding we’re losing in Iraq for any irrational reason. They’re looking at the cold, hard facts.” The Vista Lounge is, as one, perplexed. Lowry continues, “I wish it was true that, because we’re a superpower, we can’t lose. But it’s not.”
No one argues with him. They just look away, in the same manner that people avoid glancing at a crazy person yelling at a bus stop. Then they return to hyperbole and accusations of treachery against people like their editor. The aging historian Bernard Lewis declares, “The election in the U.S. is being seen by [the bin Ladenists] as a victory on a par with the collapse of the Soviet Union. We should be prepared for whatever comes next.” This is why the guests paid up to $6,000. This is what they came for. They give him a wheezing, stooping ovation and break for coffee.
Norman Podhoretz kept rambling on about how we’ve won the war and Robert Bork even criticized FoxNews for failing to trumpet the fact that we are killing way more Iraqis than are killing us. (Neither Norm nor wife Midge have turned in their “Rummy 4 Evah” buttons — he’s still their favorite rock star.)
The animating idea behind all of this is, as one would expect, racism. Arabs (“Muslims”) and Mexicans will have to suffice since hating Jews and Blacks is temporarily inconvenient, but it’s all the same.
Several days later, the nautical counter-revolution has docked in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, where passengers will clamber overboard into a nation they want to wall off behind a 1,000-mile fence. One expresses horror at my intention to find a local street kid to show me around, exclaiming, “Do you want to die?” D’Souza summarizes the prevailing sentiment by unveiling what he modestly calls “D’Souza’s law of immigration”: An immigrant’s quality is “proportional to the distance traveled to get to the United States.” In other words: Asians trump Latinos.
[…]
The table nods solemnly before marching onward to Topic A: the billion-strong swarm of Muslims who are poised to take over the world. The idea that Europe is being “taken over” is the unifying theme of this cruise. Some people go on singles’ cruises, some on ballroom-dancing cruises. This is the Muslims Are Coming cruise. Everyone thinks it. Everyone knows it. And the man most responsible for this insight is sitting only a few tables down: Mark Steyn. He is wearing sunglasses on top of his head and a bright shirt. Steyn’s thesis in his new book, America Alone, is simple: The “European races”–i.e., white people–“are too self-absorbed to breed,” but the Muslims are multiplying quickly. The inevitable result will be “large-scale evacuation operations circa 2015” as Europe is ceded to Al Qaeda and “Greater France remorselessly evolve[s] into Greater Bosnia.” He offers a light smearing of dubious demographic figures–he needs to turn 20 million European Muslims into more than 150 million in nine years, which is a lot of humping–to “prove” his case.
But facts, figures, and doubt are not on the itinerary of this cruise. With one or two exceptions, the passengers discuss “the Muslims” as a homogenous, sharia-seeking block–already with near-total control of Europe. Over the week, I am asked nine times–I counted–when I am fleeing Europe’s encroaching Muslim population for the safety of the United States.
They were all there, Kate O’Beirne, Kenny boy Starr, even William B Fuckley himself, dyspeptic as ever, proclaiming victory over communism (again) while trying to sidle away from the modern nazi generation he spawned as quietly as possible.
If there is ever any doubt in your mind as to what truly gets these people up in the morning, this lays it to rest. They are so afraid of dark people they must have a supply of Depends on hand at all times. Dinesh D’Souza, who is quite dark himself, tries awfully hard to be one of the “Real Americans” but he must wonder what they think when they see him out of the corner of their eye when they are alone in a ship’s corridor after a few too many martoonis. (If he doesn’t, he’s an even bigger fool than he seems.)
It nearly impossible to believe that these are the people who have been running the world for the last six years — and they are. These are Dick Cheney and Don Rumsfeld’s people. We put a bunch of rich, deluded, paranoid racists in charge of the most powerful nation on earth. It’s a miracle we’re still alive.
Update: Wolcott on this subject — not to be missed.
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