In tennis, scoring a point from an unreturnable, smashing serve is of course, an Ace. Likewise, so is a fighter pilot possessed of superior armament and skills, who has downed five or more of the enemy's aircraft.
And in a standard deck o' fifty-two, the Ace reigns supreme.
For some time now, I've had a draft of an essay sitting on the back burner. And every now and then, I'd edit what I already had, or add a new paragraph or thought, but it never quite came together in a manner I thought fit for publication.
I needn't bother now.
Ace, of Ace of Spades has taken keyboard in hand, and thoroughly dissected the fetid, fevered swamp which is the mind of the progressive. And done it in a manner so startling in it's brilliance, that I am quite humbled by it's magnificence.
Leading lights of leftism have a powerful psychological tool for enforcing their own preferred orthodoxies. It's one thing to tell someone he's wrong on an issue; it's another thing to tell him, impliedly, that he's evil or stupid because of his stance on an issue. True, a leftist can reject any progressive leader's opinion. But when he does so he imperils his sense of self-worth. If progressivism can be challenged on this point, why not that one? And if it can be fairly challenged on many points, then how can it be those who believe in progressivism are enlightened for doing so? If major tenets of orthodox progressivism are open to debate and challenge, doesn't that mean that one's status of intellectual, based almost entirely on one's belief in progressivism, is similarly open to challenge?
That way madness lies, of course.
Give yourself thirty minutes and truly spend some quality time reading Ace's exploration of the core of the progressive. Read it twice, and dwell upon it awhile. It is filled with "damn, I wish I'd have said that!" bits of goodness.
And then laugh the next time a progressive moonbat spews forth with their usual blather, as you'll be well prepared and able to just grin at 'em.
Which of course will drive 'em nuts, but only you will know why.
Now then, my musty olde unfinished essay goes now to the digital dustbin, and that rightly so.
Nicely done, Ace.
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