Critical Theory, Theodore Adorno And The Art Of The Bitch
Liel Leibowitz has turned his not inconsiderable talents to examining the Art Of The Bitch. When to bitch and when not to bitch. How a real pro like Theodore Adorno goes about bitching. And there is more to the Art Of Bitching than that.
Liel is no slouch at bitching himself; he is definitely a student of the art. Hear him:
If this approach sounds familiar, it’s perhaps one favored by the nabobs who tweet, blog, Tumbl, like, poke and other wise pollute public discourse with ignorant and inflammatory pronouncements.
Here Liel reveals the inner secret of the Art Of The Bitch. First discredit and demonize your opponents who are ignorant and inflammatory. The other pollutes public discourse while your own bitches have the value of godlike pronouncements. As I said, Leil knows his stuff. His condemnation of the idiots on the other side almost sounds like he’s lathering about me or, at least, someone or something that is representative of me, as I don’t tweet, Tumbl, like or poke. I just blog. We polluters had to learn somewhere though. We all, not surprisingly, and I suspect Liel, went to the master bitcher of all time: Theodore Adorno the founder of the school of bitching, Critical Theory.
Liel polishes up his brilliance and doesn’t let Theo off easy while maybe referring to himself as a secret nabob:
And as is so often the case with dynasties, the children [he probably means epigoni] have none of the father’s [founder’s] luster: While Adorno occasionally made up for his failings those who swear by him do not.
Oh yeah, Liel? What I’ve learned about the Art Of Bitching from Theo and Herbie Marcuse and the rest of the Critical Theorists is to take a superior stance, legs wide apart like Elvis, arms akimbo, head erect slightly tilted back so you can really get a shot down your Jovian nostrils at the assholes huddled down at the foot of your own personal Olympus and blister them with something like this:
Even the blossoming tree lies the moment its bloom is seen without the shadow of terror; even the innocent ‘How lovely!’ becomes an excuse for an existence outrageously unlovely, and there is no longer beauty or consolation except in the gaze falling on horror, withstanding it, and in unalleviated consciousness of negativity holding fast to the possibility of what is better. (An unpolluting pronouncement of the Master: Theodore Adorno)
Wow! Even Bob Dylan would have difficulties writing something as convoluted at that. Something like that is going to leave you open to charges of pomposity though. But, that’s just it. That’s it. That is it!!! That’s what you’re aiming for. That is success! The proudest moment I’ve experienced in my blogging career was when Bibi Goldstein commented: ‘Boy, you are one pompous ass!’ Bingo!!! Thank you Bibi. One Adorno badge for me. Who says we don’t want no stinking badges. I wear my Adorno proudly. Nabob, indeed! The nabob of nabobs If I may modestly so characterize myself.
E’cher heart out Leil.