Maybe this is even right.
This is dead wrong, and that is where they all go wrong. In their arrogance they rest their case on unexamined assumptions. For instance, their "superior powers of articulation" are measured against whom? The Bushes, all of them the most inarticulate politicians imaginable, not one of whom can cogently state his case, like, oh say "#fakenews," which in one word undoes hours of screaching and wailing and tedious recitations about "nuances."
Or, "deep stores of knowledge," which myth Ronaldus Magnus dispatched with his fame statement that "liberals [progs, let's be clear here, lets not cede them the Liberal label any longer] "know so many things that aren't so."
His "dumb followers" can fix toilets, build buildings, wire up light switches and all sorts of things that send my progressive neighbors in DC to the liquor cabinet any time they have to think about. Becasue they have no clue how to do these things themselves nor what kind of trade, skill or craft to hire to do it for them [at an outrageous hourly rate because the progs have constructed thins around DC so that normal folks with marketable skills can't afford to live here]
The Liberal/Progressive "knowledge base" appears to ignore and/or erase any reference to, or acknowledgement of, the Source of all wisdom; therefore that supposed "knowledge base" is empty and illusory.
Read the following words from Dr. Russell Kirk:
"A Michigan farmer, some years ago, climbed to the roof of his silo, and there he painted, in great red letters that the Deity could see, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” These words are on that roof yet. When in his cups, which was often enough, that farmer thrashed his daughter to fill her with a holy terror."In his way, I suppose, the drunken brute did fear God. Surviving the thrashings, his daughter grew to be a woman; and though she did not much fancy her father’s company, she lived as decent a life as most. Her upbringing, bad though it was, may have been better than the formative years of the average American child nowadays, “permissively” reared. To the permitted brat with the permissive parents, few appetites are denied, and he grows up ignorant of the norms of human existence. Never learning in childhood that certain things exist which we ought to fear, he slides into physical maturity, bored, flabby in character, and moved by irrational impulses toward violence and defiance, the consequence of a profound disorder in personality.
"Without a knowledge of fear, we cannot know order in personality or society. Fear forms an ineluctable part of the human condition. Fear lacking, hope and aspiration fail. To demand for mankind “freedom from fear,” as politically attainable, was a silly piece of demagogic sophistry. If, per impossibile, fear were wiped altogether out of our lives, we would be desperately bored, yearning for old or new terrors; vegetating, we would cease to be human beings. A child’s fearful joy in stories of goblins, witches, and ghosts is a natural yearning after the challenge of the dreadful: raw head and bloody bones, in one form or another, the imagination demands. From the great instinct to survive, to struggle, to triumph, comes the urge to contend with fear.
"And there are things which rightfully we ought to fear, if we are to enjoy any dignity as men. When, in an age of smugness and softness, fear has been pushed temporarily into the dark corners of personality and society, then soon the gods of the copybook headings with fire and slaughter return. To fear to commit evil, and to hate what is abominable, is the mark of manliness. “They will never love where they ought to love,” Burke says, “who do not hate where they ought to hate.” It may be added that they will never dare when they ought to dare, who do not fear when they ought to fear.
"Time was when there lay too heavy upon man that fear of the Lord which is the beginning of wisdom. Soul-searching can sink into morbidity, and truly conscience can make cowards of us all. Scotland in the seventeenth century, for instance, tormented itself into a kind of spiritual hypochondria by an incessant melancholy fawning upon the Lord’s favor. But no such age is ours."
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