Tag: Taki Theodoracopulos

Google Scares Me, Taki, the Gulag

Tuesday miscellany

I’m merely linking to this: Google Is Not What It Seems. It’s an excerpt from Julian Assange’s new book. I’ve long maintained that something doesn’t “smell right” about Google: its government ties, its shockingly-fast growth, its involvement in foreign affairs.

But, alas, I’m not the guy to talk with about contemporary foreign affairs. I don’t even have a firm opinion on Assange.

Though I am kinda hoping that he and Snowden both get pardons. I have no opinion on whether the pardons are just. I just like it when a stick, any stick, gets pushed in the eye of the Establishment.

My man Taki Theodoracopulos’s current column is just a series of (loosely?) related points. It’s not his best piece by any means, but points are thoroughly-enjoyable.

Lord Belhaven died at 93. His widow said he had the perfect death: “He asked for a gin and tonic, went to bed, and never woke up.” That sounds good but not perfect. If had gone to Confession right before the gin, that would’ve been perfect.

“Trauma is now as American as apple pie, and purported to be caused by many things: betrayal, moral injury, an abuse of authority, the loss of a pet, the closing of a nightclub, or the malfunction of a television set. Actually it’s a spiritual void that afflicts those who use social media and take celebrities seriously. Therapists and quacks are having a field day.”

The Sackler family organized Perdue and developed OxyContin. They “bribed doctors to prescribe it rather vigorously, and managed to kill more Americans than the two atom bombs dropped in Japan did Japanese. Oh yes, after 450,000 deaths, and as early as 2007, the Sacklers began to transfer $10 billion to their private accounts. As it now stands, they’ve got … Read the rest

What to Do After You Unwittingly Endorse a Semitic Anti-Semite?

There’s nothing like discovering that you unwittingly endorsed the work of an anti-Semitic Holocaust denier.

A TDE reader contacted me yesterday about my “Genocide in LA” piece from last week and praise of David Cole, noting that Cole is a “Holocaust-denier of sorts” and providing a link to the Guardian’s “Hollywood conservative unmasked as notorious Holocaust revisionist.”

I had resolved to clean up my language during Advent, but that email me prompted me to mutter a phrase about what would happen to me if I went to prison. I clicked on the Guardian article and discovered . . . it’s a complete non-story.

David Cole was reviled because he’s a Jew who claimed Hitler killed only 4 million Jews (not 6 million).

He became convinced that on some points they were right and that as a Jew, he would undertake a quixotic quest to “correct” the historical record, arguing that Auschwitz was not an extermination camp in the manner of Treblinka, Sobibor, Belzac and Chelmno – which he acknowledged were part of a genocidal programme against Polish Jews; that the Holocaust ended in 1943, when the Nazis realised they needed Jewish slave labour for factories; and that there was no overarching, genocidal plan, but an evolving, morphing policy which claimed perhaps 4 million, rather than 6 million, Jewish lives.

That’s notorious, like he’s some sort of Hitler apologist?

“This guy says Hitler killed 4 million Jews, then enslaved a few million more and used four extermination camps not five. He’s obviously a whack nut beyond the pale.”

It is, quite frankly, unbelievable.

I gotta believe his role as the head of the “Republican Party Animals” organization (a play off the title of P.J. O’Rourke’s hilarious book) was a large part of it, but I also have little doubt that … Read the rest

L.A. Genocide

David Cole has written one of the most interesting and amusing essays of 2020. Bonus: It’s about Los Angeles.

low angle photography of brown building with los angeles led sign
Photo by Giovanni Calia on Pexels.com

Los Angeles has always fascinated me. Among U.S. cities, it’s second only to NYC in my mind.

I’ve only been to L.A. once, but I’ve read a lot about it, and L.A. stories always get a click from me, so I feel like I kind of know the place.

But not like David Cole, whose recent article in Taki Magazine about L.A. is one of the best things I’ve read lately. It’s so good, that for the foreseeable future if I see “David Cole” anywhere, I’m going to click on the story, even if the link indicates it will go to a gay porn site.

Cole’s piece is about the collapse of L.A.’s black community.

I had heard a few times that the L.A. Mexican gangs were basically perpetrating genocide on the vastly outnumbered L.A. blacks on a scale that, if whites were doing it, would’ve gotten the United Nations involved, but because the violence didn’t fit the binary narrative, it was ignored.

Cole makes it clear that the genocide is almost complete. “L.A.’s black population has dwindled to just a few remaining areas that could realistically be called ‘black communities.’ It’s a ‘black belt’ that starts south and east of the prosperous Westside and stretches farther south beyond LAX. But those communities are placeholders, destined to be either Hispanic or gentrified within the next decade. And blacks know this.”

Cole’s story revolves a BLM protest against a Jewish developer who plans on renovating a run-down piece-of-s*** mall in a black community.

The concern is that, if the mall becomes nice, people are going to want to live around there. Property values will increase . … Read the rest

Playboy Taki, the Riviera, and an Elegant Culture of Excess

I have a romantic nostalgia for something I’m nearly clueless about

aerial photo of seaport
Photo by Vincent Gerbouin on Pexels.com

I tend to loathe the rich, especially those who have money because of Hollywood or, worst of the worse, government.

But there’s something about the elegant rich I admire, almost in a nostalgic or romantic sense, almost like the world needs elegance to elevate it.

Yeah, I know:

I don’t know what I’m talking about.

The world needs the spiritual strength of the sacraments and the simple example of saints, not the lavish luxury of the elegant rich.

Still, there’s always been “something there” for me in the elegant rich: about the way they held themselves above vulgar ways, about the way they disdained boorishness, about the way they intuitively realized high manners are an art form of consideration for others, about their retreating and demure public persona.

It’s all on display in this splendid article at Gentleman’s Journal: The Last Playboy of the Riviera — Taki Theodoracopulos.

I’m not even sure it’s properly called an “article.” It’s a piece of writing, I suppose, but after the introductory paragraph, it’s all a bunch of quotes from Taki about hanging out on the Riviera in the 1950s.

It’s one of the most delightful things I’ve read lately. A handful of excerpts will, I think, illustrate my general nostalgia and vague romanticism.

The Riviera in the 1950s. In the words of Taki

“[T]here was no real drug use. We were young, people drank. Debauchery then was a private affair. Of course, you had a lot of women looking for a rich man, but it was all done in a very discreet way. You didn’t have the hookers in the hotels, the slobs in t-shirts in the casinos. At the very least, everyone was

Read the rest