I swear, this blog has turned into a total dimwit magnet. How else to explain this snarky rebuttal to an earlier piece of mine? Mr. Tate writes:
Confirmed Case of Mad Lib
Canadian Cynic didn't like my last post contrasting real political persecution in North Korea with the American left's paranoid fantasy version.
Now, given that Mr. Tate has referred to me as a "Mad Lib" and follows that up with a suggestion of "paranoid fantasy," one assumes he's about to lay a thoroughly savage rhetorical beating on me and show me the error of my left-wing ways. Let us continue, then, as Mr. Tate writes:
His response is--recounting an Iraqi crime during the 1991 invasion of Kuwait that proved untrue. Which is of course completely irrelevant and demonstrates my point that there's little chance of engaging in rational discourse with the angry left.
Which is, of course, a wholly relevant story since it shows precisely how gullible are those on the Right when it comes to uncritically swallowing myths that just happen to reinforce their ideological rantings. The point of the Kuwaiti incubators story was to show how easy it was for those on the Right to accept total fiction, to the point of using it as supporting rationale for a military invasion. In what way is pointing out something like that not relevant?
But it's just a bit further down that Mr. Tate pulls the trigger and blows a hole in his own foot:
Perhaps the story is untrue. We may never know for certain.
Um ... exactly. Which is an admission I made numerous times in my piece, if anyone wants to get a copy of it and read it to Mr. Tate, who seems depressingly unable to read it for himself.
Of course these reports might be true. I never denied that. I was simply cautioning wanks like Mr. Tate that, given how hopelessly they'd been suckered in the past, perhaps it would be in their best interests to show at least a modicum of skepticism when stories like the North Korea ones pop up at such amazingly convenient times.
The best part of all of this is that, after describing me as a "Mad Lib" and implying some sort of "paranoid fantasy," Mr. Tate ends up agreeing precisely with the point I made -- that these reports might be true but we may never be sure, one way or the other.
It seems that, after starting out promising to lay into me, Mr. Tate travelled a long way to simply end up in the same place I started from. How amusing.