Mankind's only alternative 5   FEB.   23  
Mankind's only alternative
Vlad's Daily Gloat - The eXile Blog

The Fall of The eXile For all those wondering what the "Save The eXile Fundrasier" banner is all about, here it is as simply as it can be phrased: The eXile is shutting down.
June 11, 2008 in eXile Blog

War Nerd: War of the Babies in Taki's Magazine The War Nerd talks about babies, the greatest weapon of the 20th century.
May 28, 2008 in eXile Blog

Kids, Meet Your President A website for Russian kids to learn all about President Medvedev's passion for school, sports and family.
May 22, 2008 in eXile Blog

Cellphone Democracy Cam If this girl was exposed to Jeffersonian democracy...
May 20, 2008 in Face Control

More Classy B&W Dyev Photos Yet another hot Russian babe imitating the Catpower look...
May 20, 2008 in Face Control

Proof That Genetic Memory Is Real! Sure, the Ottomans shut down the Istanbul Slavic slave markets centuries ago...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

Russia's Orthodox Church Youth Outreach Program The priest is going, "Father Sansei is very impressed with grasshopper Sasha’s...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

More Classy B&W Club Photos w/Russian Dyevs We took the Pepsi Challenge here...
May 15, 2008 in Face Control

Blogs RSS feed

Unfiled June 26, 2003
Lifestyles of the Liberal & Elite
By John Dolan Browse author Email
The face of liberal elitism: pretty scary stuff.

The face of liberal elitism: pretty scary stuff.

I ought to know about the American liberal elite, because I wuz wun.

Almost was one. Truth is, I was a failed aspirant to their tweedy elite. But as a failure, I hung around them a long, long time. I spent most of my adult life studying and teaching at UC Berkeley, the epicenter, the Ground Zero of that elite according to rightwing punditry. But when I recall the people I worked with at Berkeley, I don't think of them as very liberal or particularly elite. I think instead of people who were more interested in long summer vacations, regular contact with young women, and a guaranteed income than in getting rich. That was pretty much it: we were all very willing to trade our chance at riches for a nicer, lazier and more indulged, unworldly life as something like an ersatz squire.

It was a good idea. Those who figured it out early led enviable lives, with an extended youth full of intense affairs with nubile students, culminating in marriages to brilliant yet docile women eager to subsume their careers to those of the aging cranks they had married. But these lucky few were the oldest Boomers, who grabbed tenure in the late 60s and early 70s, perfect timing. As their students saw what pampered, indulgent lives their professors lived, the number of applicants rose. Meanwhile the number of jobs was shrinking fast, because a tenure-track job, once filled, is filled for 30 or 40 years. That's not much turnover. Competition for jobs got fierce. And that didn't mean only the smart ones got jobs. Nope, what happened was pure mainstream America: it was the eager, the joiners, the professionals who got the jobs.

A professional was a grad student who entered Ph.D. study like one of Mao's blank-page peasants. He or she had the right sort of intellectual insecurity. That was the key trait: willingness to learn a new diction and purge all private ideas. The non-professionals were those who arrived with something of their own.

It was, like everything else in America, a social matter: the professionals yearned to lick the discourse. We quixotics felt we could and should live out the script of the great Names they were reading: be bloodied by long rejection (at the hands of professionals, of course), and attain esteemed old age being asked about themselves by adoring biographers.

My personal strategy, as a devout quixotic, was to apply for freshman composition jobs after writing my dissertation on the Marquis de Sade. Not professional.

The professionals read the same thorny, idiosyncratic Critics, but they imitated the language, not the plot. The language was apparently violent and solitary, full of self-conscious, quasi-sadistic sexual metaphors and jargon used at irritating angles to agreed meanings. But as the professionals realized--in their blood, in their DNA--this vocabulary of revolt, bitterness and isolation could be job-hunting banter/schmooze-talk every bit as effective as the blandest Church-social prattle.

It was a strange ritual listening to them jabber their savage, harmless jargon at conference cocktail parties--a bit like a Sunday school class of prim dweebs who were spewing obscenities to impress the pastor.

And they were right. They who had had their asses kicked in seminar display-rhetoric accepted their defeats, knowing that only one encounter mattered: the job interview after finishing one's Ph.D. Every smile and parry was hard training for that great test.

Doesn't that sound comfortingly familiar to you non-academics? We're talking office courtship here, nothing arcane except the French jargon (mispronounced in truly populist style, anyway).

I'm telling you, you don't have to worry about these puppies. They slap backs with the best of you. They're talking your language--they're talking career--even when they say "abject transgression marginalized fetishize!"

SHARE:  Digg  My Web  Facebook  Reddit

Browse author

The Kurds Will Always Lose, Part II : The enemy of your enemy is a pig, too

Meeting the NatsBols :
Nizhny Tagil Sex Slaves
Russia's Sex Slave Graveyard : Over the Urals and through the woods to the mother of all Russian crime stories
Death Porn
Early Winter Death Porn : Early winter tales of murder and mayhem to chill the bones


Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

Scanning Moscow’s Traffic Cops
Automotive Section
We’re happy to introduce a new column in which we publish Moscow’s raw radio communications, courtesy of a Russian amateur radio enthusiast. This issue, eXile readers are given a peek into the secret conversations of Moscow’s traffic police, the notorious "GAIshniki."

Eleven Years of Threats: The eXile's Incredible Journey
Feature Story By The eXile
Good Night, and Bad Luck: In a nation terrorized by its own government, one newspaper dared to fart in its face. Get out your hankies, cuz we’re taking a look back at the impossible crises we overcame.

Your Letters
Russia's freedom-loving free market martyr Mikhail Khodorkovsky answers some of this week's letters, and he's got nothing but praise for President Medvedev.

Clubbing Adventures Through Time
Club Review By Dmitriy Babooshka
eXile club reviewer Babooshka takes a trip through time with the ghost of Moscow clubbing past, present and future, and true to form, gets laid in the process.

The Fortnight Spin
Bardak Calendar By Jared Lindquist
Jared comes out with yet another roundup of upcoming bardak sessions.

Your Letters
Richard Gere tackles this week's letters. Now reformed, he fights for gerbil rights all around the world.

13 Toxic Talents: Hollywood’s Worst Polluters
America By Eileen Jones
Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...


    MAIN    |    RUSSIA    |    WAR NERD     |    [SIC!]    |    BAR-DAK    |    THE VAULT    |    ABOUT US    |    RSS

© "the eXile". Tel.: +7 (495) 623-3565, fax: +7 (495) 623-5442