Instapundit links to this wretched mess of turgid prose written by Michael Gorman, the President of the American Library Association, and labels it tiresome elitist schtick. Really, though- you have to read some of it to truly appreciate how tiresome it really is:
A blog is a species of interactive electronic diary by means of which the unpublishable, untrammeled by editors or the rules of grammar, can communicate their thoughts via the web. (Though it sounds like something you would find stuck in a drain, the ugly neologism blog is a contraction of “web log.”) Until recently, I had not spent much time thinking about blogs or Blog People.
Groan.
It is obvious that the Blog People read what they want to read rather than what is in front of them and judge me to be wrong on the basis of what they think rather than what I actually wrote. Given the quality of the writing in the blogs I have seen, I doubt that many of the Blog People are in the habit of sustained reading of complex texts. It is entirely possible that their intellectual needs are met by an accumulation of random facts and paragraphs. In that case, their rejection of my view is quite understandable.
You can smell the Sherry co-mingling with stench of condescenion. You can hear the acquired Boston Brahmin accent and feel the sneering disdain. Forgive us, oh knighted master of all things knowledge, but we have seen your type before:
Higgins and company went out of style in 1988, and my tolerance for elitist prigs and intellectual fops like Mr. Gorman expired along with them.
ape
what a moron.
google is a “notoriously inefficient search engine”
in the way that my cooker is “notoriously bad at producing tasty, nutricious food”
a bad workman/ tool situation.
some suggestions for the man:
if the blogs you read are poorly written, read better blogs.
if the google results you get are inadequate, learn to use the tool better.
Mikey
We don’t read what Mr. Gorman actually wrote? Hmm.
Perhaps it’s not the reader that cannot read. Perhaps the writer cannot write.
A fine example of a prig. Destined to have his head mounted over some lucky blogger’s fireplace.
Ryan
Gorman’s tripe got me to fisking him, too. I didn’t think of Higgins, though. That imagery is great.
BumperStickerist
John —
Higgins was no elitist prig or fop. Unlike Thomas Magnum’s mustache, or T.C.’s helicopter paint scheme, Higgins never, ever goes out of style.
http://littlecalamity.tripod.com/Text/Magnum.html
JONATHAN QUAYLE HIGGINS (John Hillerman) is the British majordomo for Robin’s Nest, the estate of multi-millionaire author Robin Masters, author of books like BLOOD OF THE AUGUST KITTEN and FRUIT OF PASSION.
(By the end of the series, we learn that Higgins wrote those books himself–presumably he hired the character voiced by Orson Welles to pose as Robin to spare himself social parties and publicity tours.)
…
An expert at pool, he [Higgins]speaks Chinese and sign language, is a Doctor of Mathematics, was in MI6 in 1944 and again in 1986. He has and uses a short wave radio.
PROBABLE WWII EVENTS (UNDATED)
In Scotland, he was a commando, a member of the Prince of Wales’ Own West Yorkshire Regiment (“Don’t Eat Snow in Hawaii”).
In India, in Benares after the war, he coached the regimental rugby team, working closely with military doctors. (“One Last Summer”) He served two campaigns in India. One time, Corky Bostwick brought two untouchables.(“Case of the Red-Faced Thespian”)
In Burma, he took part in the Burmese Death March in the oppressive heat. (“Past Tense”) Someone died in his place, as Mac did for Tom Magnum. (“Did You See the Sunrise”) When a guide’s village and family were destroyed, he held a knife to Capt. Graham’s throat so they had to shoot him, in effect committing suicide. (“Distant Relatives”)
In North Africa, a lad tried to warn of a regiment of Germans on their left flank, but he had lied too often and was ignored; only J.Q. escaped alive. (“Smaller Than Life”) He once raided a Jerry supply dump with the lads and ran into some Bedouin women with a dromedary that spit all the time (“J. Digger Doyle”). He saw .00 load kill at 150 meters when out of water, had to steal it from the Jerries (“Skin Deep”).
Higgins was at the Nuremberg trials in Germany (“Never Again, Never Again”). He played America’s top seed tennis player in the Army, Tappy Larsen. About the time Gardner Malloy transferred to the Pacific, JQ parachuted into the Urals with a demolition team to infilitrate German lines (“Mixed Doubles”). In Berlin after the war, he was in deep cover MI6…Thomas cuts him off, but we hear that “she” plied him with a chilled vodka and they rolled on a bearskin rug. In moments, he found the microfilm hidden in an intimate place. (“Birdman of Budapest”)
1936
In Suez, the Egyptians had him completely surrounded….(“Past Tense”) Howedver, please note that the British fought the Italians in Suez in December 1940.
1941
Higgins was shot in El Alamain and learned he has type AB blood (“Italian Ice”).
1942
For six months, he was in Turbia, a picturesque principality high in the Pyrenees, where monks had a vow of silence. He drove one to cursing him.
In North Africa, under Alexander’s command, a group of Tuaregs caught him. He was unable to bribe them. It was 130 degrees in the shade. He was tied out in the heat without a hat in the Kutar, and was always afraid of the sun after that (“J. Digger Doyle”).
The frightfully verbose Lt. Fabersham used to lecture them on the morals of the British soldier. One day, surrounded by Rommel’s lads….(“Basket Case”)
In the summer of 1942, he transferred from the North African campaign to New Guinea, attached to the Australian 7th Division to push the enemy back against the line of mountains on the island, on the 100-mile Kokona Trail; one inch of rain fell in five minutes, and the black mud was full of disease. He was there six months. Starving, out of bullets, lost for one day, he found Sato’s men. They exchanged rations for Sato’s quinine. That entire day, Sato and JQ didn’t exchange a single word. They talked after the war when he found Sato in a Russian camp, and later exchanged letters (“Eighth Part of the Village”).
In August of 1942 in North Africa, enduring heat, malaria, bad food as the Allies prepared to take Tripoli, JQ tried to raise morale by organizing a basketball game and thought up what was later known as the ‘floating zone’ defense (“Basket Case”).
In August of 1942 he was in North Africa when Inky Gilbert, owner of a carnival, went berserk and ran at a machinegun nest. Brother Donald ran after Inky and was badly burned. Higgins held position. Don became Guz Simmer, carny freak.
On October 8, 1942 he got supplies to Chinese guerillas high in the Himalays late in the year with 25 men and a Sherpa guide. They hit snow at 10,000 feet and were burdened by 50 lb. Packs; they lost the guide in an avalanche at 12,000 feet. (“J. Digger Doyle”)
1943
In Malaysia, the regiment was hopelessly outnumbered. During a lull in the battle, Lt. Ian Bodlerly recited “Gunga Din” so loudly the Japs were entranced and let the others escape while he roared Kipling; to this day his fate is unknown (“Who Is Don Luis Higgins….”).
He was separated from his unit in a skirmish and spent 9 days alone hunted by the Japanese. Though he was shot when he tried to leap from a tree onto their squad leader, and he was armed only with a knife, he held all three men prisoner.
1944
Early in the year, he was in the Abbey of Monte Casino, north of Salerno, “bloody mess.” (“Basket Case”)
In the Pacific, he spent hours before battles doing water colors. A lovely island maiden dragged him into her hut to view her primitive art. He spent several wonderful weeks with her and mastered the technique but not her talent. This was definitely a romantic interlude (“A Picture is Worth….”)
JQ was with MI6 when the Third Reich put documents in a Mexican bank for safekeeping. He later hired Garwood Huddle to steal them. (“The Legacy of Garwood Huddle”)
1945
In Palestine, JQ led a patrol ordered to shoot Jewish refugees. He saw Rabbi Asher Solomon and friends on a tramp steamer lifeboat, and made an immediate sharp right turn and marched off. Years later, they met outside the British Museum. JQ says, “I was obeying a higher law that does not permit me to shoot unarmed refugees.” (“Torah, Torah, Torah”)
1946
He was in Suez after the war (“Never Again, Never Again”) and headed the British Relocation Committee, bringing 12 children to Hawaii (“This Island Isn’t Big Enough…”).
1947
Jonathan Quayle Higgins graduated from Cambridge as a Doctor of Mathematics.
1948
In the spring, General Chiang Kai-Shek in Kampoor gave him a Ming vase. He was a military advisor attached the Fifth Division. The general who refused his advice is now a dishwasher in a mediocre Mandarin restaurant in Stockdale, California. (“The Big Blow”)
At some point during this year, he was in India and learned hypnosis. He used it when his sister lost the family brooch (“Missing in Action”).
In Mandalay, when Burma gained independence, one of the lads got involved with the daughter of an Oriental tea merchant. He was an aide to former British governor and wanted to investigate, but political implications tied his hands. Finally they found the lad’s decomposed body. It was awful, as he was the finest cricket player they had! (“The Taking of Dick McWilliams”).
1949
In India, Higgins was Lord Mountbatten’s batman while the regular batman recovered from a mishap with a sacred cow. While getting figs for Monty, JQ saw a holy man who exactly resembled another. Terribly frightening experience. (“Mac Is Back”).
His polo pony in Kwang Ju had an injured fetlock treated with lidocaine. The Sunday of the Queen’s birthday party, Corky Bostwick lost control of a mare when the stallion on the other team gave a passionate whinny. (“One Last Summer”)
1949-50
He was in Calcutta in a dreadful prison cell (“Luther Gillis File 001”).
1951
Higgins was in Hong-Kong and was Sergeant-Major there to Brigadier-General ffolkes. (“No Need to Know”)
He was in Korea and had to transfuse blood for a Turk hit by a sniper while penned down for two days in a frozen rice paddy; he used a stalk of bamboo. The sniper killed the Turk two days later (“All For One”).
Also in 1951, he was in New Guinea, where Lt. Hilton Thorpe was staked out covered with honey, his eyelids slit; after that he had to wear sunglasses and hated sweets. (The lieutenant, that is.) (“Past Tense”)
1953
Jonathan was in Vietnam with French forces, and was chief consultant for Rand McNally when they updated the map. He stayed at the Hotel Royale (“All For One”).
He was in Kenya and learned the ways of the Masai. He was present during the Mau-Mau uprising. They had been in the bush for one week when they found two missing privates, horribly mutilated. It was a full moon. At midnight, they found the Mau Mau killers, but Jonathan was slashed in the thigh by a panga. He sent the lads on. They tracked the Mau Mau to the village of Berebe, and massacred men, women, children. JQ reported it and requested courts martial for himself and his men, but he was absolved and the others just sent out of the country. The men included Private Buckminster, Private Taylor, Private Clutterbuck, Lance Corporal…(“Black on White”)
1953 or 1954
MI6 temporarily assigned him to help Scotland Yard when a lady’s rugby team in the Midlands was terrorized by a demented chap with a passion for soiled sweatsocks (“Mixed Doubles”).
He was deep sea fishing in the Keys with Ernest Hemingway in his ketch when the shortwave warned them of an approaching hurricane. JQ helped Ernest rewrite THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA. (“The Big Blow”)
1954
In the spring, he was in Kenya, where he was the youngest in a squad of six spending three months watching the Andrews farm. He and the Andrews daughter Elizabeth took long walks in the grass, read Shelley, and listened to the BBC. But he was transferred to the front again. Four months later she married Dan Davies, a member of the new squad. (“Luther Gillis File 001”)
1957
In Geneva, he ran the Arlington Arms, a quiet hotel frequented by dukes, earls, and viscounts. (“Past Tense”)
1958
Higgins was in jail in Calcutta in 1949 and 1958.
1967
In North Wales with the Army Investigative Unit, he had a fascinating case: a private killed a corporal in the latrine because the sergeant told the private all corporals are gay but straighten up again when they get their stripes. (“J. Digger Doyle”)
1972
Jonathan Quayle Higgins was hired by Robin Masters after Lowell Xavier Jamison was fired. (“Case of the Red-Faced Thespian”)
MISCELLANEOUS UNDATED EVENTS
In Cairo, he was briefly attached to the British Museum there and learned a thing or two about repairing vases and so forth (“China Doll”).
Jonathan was the finest lawn croquet player in the Pacific (possibly a WWII event?)
In North Ireland, he was with MI6, attached to General Cornwall, the strategist. At the Queen’s Birthday Ball, Bannister, a male operative who used drag, showed up in the same gown as Lady Ashley and caused a big scandal. (“Jororo Kill”)
In Persia, he was midwife to a young Kurdistani peasant girl who spoke no English, so he had to render her unconscious. (“The Big Blow”)
He was in Salzburg “back in-” but breaks off without detail. (“Legacy of Garwood Huddle”)
In Albania, he was imprisoned in a zipper factory with Bertie Farnbush and his maiden sister, and used her hairpin to escape. (“The Return of Luther H. Gillis”)
In Malaysia, he used acupuncture (at a guess, in 1943, I should think). (“Holmes Is Where the Heart Is”)
In the Congo with the peacekeeping force, he interrogated Major Horling, a cold-blooded killer who worked with Lyden; he later showed up in the episode “Past Tense.”
shark
Higgins should sic Zeus and Apollo on him…
Kung Fu
That is a killer picture of Higgins in a classic cat stance with left fist guarding. That, coupled with Higgins’ C.V. above, made my night.
S.W. Anderson
After reading Gorman’s piece, which isn’t all that turgid throughout, I think I’ve figured out why your dudgeon’s so high.
It’s a case of the guy being so snidely dismissive of those with whom he disagrees and with those he considers unqualified to express their views.
Now, we all know that if you explore the blogosphere, making sure to stop at blogs like Hugh Hewitt’s, Instapundit’s, Captain’s Quarters, Ipse Dixit, FreeRepublic, even right here a Balloon Juice, you’d be hard put to ever find examples of bloggers and commenters being snidely dismissive of those who express disagreeable views and differing opinions.
No, there’s always a congenial willingness to weigh and discuss all sorts of notions on a high philosophical plane. Impugning motives? No way! Name calling? Never!
If only Gorman could be as openminded and accepting.
Kung Fu
“Now, we all know that if you explore the blogosphere, making sure to stop at blogs like Hugh Hewitt’s, Instapundit’s, Captain’s Quarters, Ipse Dixit, FreeRepublic, even right here a Balloon Juice, you’d be hard put to ever find examples of bloggers and commenters being snidely dismissive of those who express disagreeable views and differing opinions.”
Sarcasm at its finest! Thank you S.W. Anderson.
JPS
BumperStickerist:
That was impressive, and kind of frightening. But I must question the following:
“(By the end of the series, we learn that Higgins wrote those books himself–presumably he hired the character voiced by Orson Welles to pose as Robin to spare himself social parties and publicity tours.) ”
Are you sure about this? Recall the very last minutes of the very last episode:
JQH, to Magnum (whispering, sidewise, during Rick’s wedding ceremony): “Remember when I told you I was Robin Masters?”
TSM: “Yeah?”
JQH, grinning slyly: “I lied.”