I want to round out today's trifecta on what I'm going to be calling from now on Rod Dreher's signature "emperorography" by expanding on something Diane, Pik and I were discussing in the comments here, "emperorography" (because imperiography already means something different) now meaning that nebulous rhetorical gas Dreher frequently produces for marketing to credulous commenters who fear appearing stupid or uneducated by questioning him too closely about whether he actually said anything at all.
The title of the post, of course, already tips you off to the term's source.
This archetypal example of Dreherian emperorography began today in this tweet
originally hawking
this post by Dreher disingenuously attempting to suggestively equate the brutality of ISIS with historically bad treatment of blacks in the American South in order to skim off his cut of discussion controversy first generated by President Obama in his recent prayer breakfast remarks.
When Regulus started poking too deeply, Dreher tried to buy him off with the "guilt v. implication" legerdemain - do you see the difference?
Frankly, no I didn't, but the suggestive effort itself immediately reminded me of
this classic rhetorical grift:
"Isn't it a beautiful piece of goods?" the swindlers
asked him, as they displayed and described their imaginary
pattern.
"I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must
be that I'm unworthy of my good office. That's
strange. I mustn't let anyone find it out, though." So he
praised the material he did not see. He declared he was delighted
with the beautiful colors and the exquisite pattern. To the
Emperor he said, "It held me spellbound."
All the town was talking of this splendid cloth, and the
Emperor wanted to see it for himself while it was still in the
looms. Attended by a band of chosen men, among whom were his two
old trusted officials-the ones who had been to the weavers-he set
out to see the two swindlers. He found them weaving with might
and main, but without a thread in their looms.
"Magnificent," said the two officials already duped. "Just
look, Your Majesty, what colors! What a design!" They pointed to
the empty looms, each supposing that the others could see the
stuff.
What colors! What a design! And, true to our tale,
the weaving continued long into the day. Keep in mind that, as with the insatiable need for cowbell, the only cure for that Dreherian emperorography fever is more Dreherian emperorography.
Sorry: me, Keith, are a monkey with the mind of a child, and I just don't see no difference between guilt and implication, Rod. Unless of course you're only implying there's a difference without actually being guilty of claiming one.
What I do see, what Dreherian emperorography raises to a high art, is the sort of vapid, content-free lyrical writing typically found in fables about seagulls, Hallmark cards, and your random internet meme-generator:
"All of us are readers...but not all of us can read. See the difference?"
Nice work if you can get it.
Remember, credulous townfolk,
"How Emperorography Can Save Your Life" (or something similar) will be available for your squinting, unworthy eyes the day before your taxes are due.
Oh - or, if not, why not
a similar self-help tome from the same esteemed publisher?