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Smalley-mindedness vs the Rugby World Cup
Submitted by Lindsay Perigo on Sun, 2011-09-18 01:05
Any doubts that the brief historical period of enlightened live-and-let-live liberation from the tyranny of Puritanism is nearly at an end must finally have been put to rest by the mindless furore over Mike Tindall's alleged cavortings in a Queenstown nightclub. It is claimed that the England captain was enjoying himself. He is alleged to have buried his head in the cleavage of an attractive blonde woman who was also believed to be enjoying herself. This while he and other England team members were all allegedly enjoying themselves after a Rugby World Cup match.
A bouncer with strong views on marital fidelity (Tindall was recently married to the Queen's grand-daughter) apparently uplifted video of the alleged bust-burying captured by the night-club's security cameras and posted it on YouTube. The gutter press have been having a feeding frenzy, notwithstanding that the new Mrs Tindall has pronounced herself unfazed by the episode and pointed out that the blonde woman in question is an old friend.
Now, thankfully, the bouncer has been fired by the security firm that employed him, and charged by police with accessing a computer system for dishonest purposes. (Personally I would like to see the trash tabloids that reproduced the footage charged with being accessories after the fact.) The nightclub has suspended the security firm from guarding its premises. A groundswell is occurring on behalf of the right to let one's hair down, non-coercively, on private premises set aside for the purpose without ending up on the front pages of tawdry print publications and TV networks.
Enter Rachel Smalley, poster girl for one of these tawdry networks, TV3. This adenoidal airhead fronts TV3's morning news show. Her nasal emissions are a prize exhibit in my case that NZ broadcast journalists no longer speak, but rather, quack. (Smalley and many others ought to be charged by police with murder of the English language.) Well, in the good old days, newsreaders could not only read, but as a matter of professionalism they kept their personal opinions on the matters about which they read to themselves. Now, however, in wades intrepid Rachel to opine on Twitter that "they're drunk, groping women and slamming shots - in public." Former England captain Will Carling quite rightly responds with, "Wow! So rugby players can't drink in public in NZ??" (Poor Will clearly has no idea of the extent to which deeply stupid, sanctimonious, stroppy, perenially-scandalised slack slags hold sway in NZ social discourse.) Smalley-minded replies, "Yes they can - and they do. They just don't act like arrogant Eton school boys on the piss and on the pull. It's a RWC!"
It is indeed a Rugby World Cup, Rachel—and in spite of the likes of you it has already afforded a snapshot of humanity at its best. The gloriously-performed anthems (what a change from the usual headbanging travesties thereof!), the sublime Holst melody that is serving as the series' leitmotif, the teams' fierce, KASS intensity (exactly what I've been arguing Objectivists must display), their physical and mental smarts ... in all of that we have a veritable feast of heroism. And in the smalley-mindedness of the neo-Puritanism that underpins the Tindall non-scandal, Rachel, you and your ilk have afforded us a snapshot of humanity at its worst. My personal advice to you in particular: get a life. And a mind. Learn how to talk. And mind your own bloody business!
The original puritanism—the pathological fear that someone somewhere might somehow just be managing to have a good time, to invoke Mencken—was driven by religion. Neo-puritanism is driven by political correctness. Under the soft tyranny of political correctness, everyone is either taking offence at something or having to apologise for causing the offence. Life is an orgy of umbrage.
The RWC is a salutary, if doomed, reminder that humanity is still capable of rising above such smalley-mindedness.
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