A while back I wrote a recommendation to read Ron Unz’s American Pravda. I stand by that recommendation, but only with the caveat that Unz has revealed himself to be a cucktard. He published a spineless, sniveling, and misguided essay about the Alt-Right, and the mask dropped.
Now, it’s not that I can’t stand criticism, but this was different. It was distancing from deplorables, and that won’t do. It’s also not that I have a problem with people who’re wrong. Ann Coulter (and a whole lot of us) used to be a Civic Nationalist who’s only problem with immigration was the illegal kind. She evolved, and so did we, but Unz made it clear to me that he wouldn’t evolve, and that also won’t do.
That said, I still think Unz is brilliant, driven, insightful, and should have a voice to pay attention to. He’s just not, in the end, an ally, and should be viewed with healthy suspicion.
While all that was going on, I read a comment in one of Porter’s poasts that really grabbed me. It was insightful, yes, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. A lot of comments from a lot of people are insightful. It was the style. I’m not good at describing literary style. I feel silly doing it, like describing wine. Silly as in pretentious. I wish I was better at it. What I can tell you is that I’m drawn to wit. Porter has it on steroids, so does Heartiste. Anti-Gnostic, Steyn and Sailer too.
Not being particularly witty certainly isn’t a deal breaker for me. I don’t find Vox Day particularly funny, and I read him devotedly. Not everyone’s a comedian. If someone can write something that literally makes me laugh out loud, though, that person gets my full attention. This commenter did. Sometimes I’ll click on a commenter’s name or icon in one of the blogs on my Required Reading list, to see if he’s got anything interesting going on. Most of the time there’s no blog, and sometimes there is and it’s not too good. Once, I clicked on Sorcery God’s icon over at Heartiste, not because I thought it would be good, but because the guy’s a lunatic, and kept referring to his own blog. Curiosity got the better of me. I felt dirty, reading some of his stuff. Not because of the content, but because it felt like spying on a mental ward. To be fair to Sorcery God, though, I see him now commenting occasionally at Heartiste, PA and other places, and he seems like a different person. Lucid, insightful, and interesting. I’d like to check out his blog now, but I’m a little nervous about it. Sooner or later, curiosity will get the better of me again, and I hope I’m not disappointed. Saucy, keep taking those meds! They’re working!
So I clicked on the icon of this commenter, The Empty Subject. The name seemed familiar to me, and I think I must have read a comment here or there from him before. I visited his sight and started reading. Devoured the latest essay, then the previous one, then the one before that, and here it is a month later and I’m still doing that. I read his latest, then go through his back catalogue. I doubt I’ll ever read all of his previous poasts, because I have the same desire with Porter and Heartiste, and they were here first (for me) and I’m not near done with their old stuff. But I at least intend to keep chipping away at all three like I’m in Shawshank.
TES is damn good, and of all those on my Required Reading list, the most personal. I don’t expect personal information from writers, and TES certainly remains anonymous, but he writes about his life. It’s cultural critique but also privately candid. And so, so funny. Laughed out loud twice reading today’s essay.
See, I told you I suck at describing literary style. I’ll finish with this: here’s the link to The Empty Subject.