A faithful Cafe patron sent me this link to a Huffington Post essay by Mary Bottari. I read it, and have nothing specific to say save that it’s nonsense from top to bottom – nonsense of a sort that elicits no reply given that not the faintest whiff of reason wafts through the essay.
Anyone who finds insight in such an essay has as much hope of being reasoned with as a tree stump has of being taught to tap dance.
I confess to suffer occasionally the urge to address every such absurdity that crosses my path. And I sincerely appreciate the Cafe patron sending to me the above link. But some such ravings – such as the above – are simply too ridiculous.
I have on my shelf an unabridged copy of the 1001 Arabian nights. In volume 2, and overlapping into volume 3 is a series of stories about a war between Islamic Persia and the Eastern Roman Empire. It’s actually pretty fascinating to see what kind of romantic tales the evil Saracens where telling about *us* in the 10th and 11th centuries. Somewhere in there, though, we’re enlightened by a description of the Patriarch of Constantinople, the evilest wizard of them all. We are assured he uses black magic with holy scripture and his own feces in order to carry out nefarious plots, often bringing young maidens into indelicate positions, in order to undermine the very will to fight of the righteous armies of Allah. Or something like that.
There’s something of that kind of storytelling in Mary Bottari’s description of Milton Friedman. Black magic, indeed.