Reviews of reviews are all the rage these days, and all the cool kidz are doing it. So it is satisfying to read a review of a review of Rod Dreher's new book which is itself a massive review of Dante's famous work, The Divine Comedy which, I should say, I highly recommend reading for those with immortal souls.
Reviews, reviews, out the wazoos....
(OK, here's the review, without further ado.)
George P. Wood of Springfield, MO reviewed Rod's book on Amazon and explains to everybody what the problem was. George is a pretty impressive guy with some impressive degrees and obviously knows a lot about a lot of things.
[Link to review from George P. Wood of Springfield, MO]
"The problem was that Dreher had left Starhill for a reason: The inability of his family—especially his father, but even Ruthie herself—to understand any way that wasn’t their way."
See, that's the problem with folks around here, and George P. Wood of Springfield, MO knows it. Just close minded people. It wasn't Rod. George P. Wood of Springfield, MO just explained to the world why it wasn't.
And so when Rod came back, believe it or not folks were still that way. Unable to understand any way that wasn't their way, especially Rod's way. And that flaw in them made Rod physically sick.
Folks just can't get any lower or meaner than that, making other people physically sick by being unable to understand any way that isn’t their way.
“Well,” his rheumatologist told him,“you have a choice. Leave Louisiana, or resign yourself to destroying your health."
"Dreher felt that wasn’t a choice. There must be a way to stay put and find inner peace."
And sure enough there was. Write another book about how folks around here make other people physically sick by being unable to understand any way that isn’t their way. You heard it from George P. Wood of Springfield, MO himself, and so did the rest of the world.
I admit that on many occasions in the past I've been enraged by Rod Dreher. But this fellow Bookworm provides a great example of why I'm no longer angered by him. Everyone save a few weirdos is onto him at this point. He has sunk so low that he has had to invent academic sock puppets to encourage him and to beg him to write books and so forth. His publisher is basically an opportunistic soft-core peddler who made sure there was T&A on his book cover. He has blamed his poor health on people not liking him. He has clung bitterly to this Bunker Option thing even though it has proven to be nothing more than raving. He deplores our plastic disposable hedonistic society and then commits selfie-abuse amid piles of restaurant food.
No one I care about is giving this guy any respect anymore, and that's the way it should be. I just loaded that ridiculous pic into How Old -- here's the result:
When robots think you look like a 49-year-old woman it's time to pull a makeover or put the camera away. Or both, dude.