A letter of complaint…

False Killer

To Whomever can be bothered,
When the ‘What is it?’ at Hull Maritime Museum made its puppy-dog cronies wag their little tails by promising to let them stultify art and retard the enjoyment and adoration of the beautiful, I realised for the first time that the ‘What is it?’ is careless with data, makes all sorts of causal interpretations of things without any real justification, has a way of combining disparate ideas that don’t seem to hang together, seems to show a sort of pride in its own biases, gets into all sorts of bigoted speculation, and then makes no effort to test out its speculations, and that’s just the short list!

The first lies that the ‘What is it?’ at Hull Maritime Museum told us were relatively benign. Still, they have been progressing. And they will continue to progress until there is no more truth; its lies will grow until they blot out the sun. What is happening between the ‘What is it?’ lackey’s and us is not a debate. It is not a friendly disagreement between enlightened people. It is a wanton attack on our most cherished institutions. Okay, there’s no reason for me to be pathological, so I’ll leave you with this concept: There is not a single word in that sentence that the ‘What is it?’ prestigitators can take exception to.

Yours truly, B. Freeman(address supplied).

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One thought on “A letter of complaint…

  1. Although I generally believe that the less said about Mr. B. Freeman, the better, I do feel obligated to say a few things about Mr. Freeman’s conceited criticisms. Read on, gentle reader, and hear what I have to say. Mr. Freeman may be reasonably cunning with words. However, he is absolutely sappy with everything else. Well, sure; opposing his lubricious, blathering newsgroup postings actively and earnestly is the moral duty of every good human being, but that doesn’t change reality. His editorials share a number of characteristics. They undermine everyone’s capacity to see, or change, the world as a whole. They transmogrify society’s petty gripes and irrational fears into “issues” to be catered to. And they have a serious destabilizing effect on our institutions. Put together, these characteristics imply that I have a hard time trying to reason with people who remain calm when they see Mr. Freeman impugn the morality of his opponents.I attribute the social and psychological problems of modern society to the fact that Mr. Freeman’s eccentricity is surpassed only by his vanity. And his vanity is surpassed only by his empty theorizing. (Remember his theory that abusive, parasitical purveyors of malice and hatred are all inherently good, sensitive, creative, and inoffensive?) While Mr. Freeman has a right to his opinion, some of us have an opportunity to come in contact with the worst kinds of subversive socially inept-types there are on a regular basis at work or in school. We, therefore, may be able to gain some insight into the way they think, into their values; we may be able to understand why they want to twist my words six ways for Sunday. His monographs are so daft that if allowed to go unanswered, their final cost would be incalculable. His cronies all have serious personal problems. In fact, the way Mr. Freeman keeps them loyal to him is by encouraging and exacerbating these problems rather than by helping to overcome them. The people he attacks deserve compassion, not insults, put-downs, or stereotypes. And that’s where we are right now.Take it from me: There are few certainties in life. I have counted only three: death, taxes, and Mr. Freeman doing some larcenous thing every few weeks. I am not embarrassed to admit that I have neither the training, the experience, the license, nor the clinical setting necessary to properly launch an all-out ideological attack against the forces of nonrepresentationalism. Nevertheless, I honestly do have the will to advocate social change through dialogue, passive resistance, and non-violence. That’s why I clearly suspect that if you can go more than a minute without hearing him talk about cronyism, you’re either deaf, dumb, or in a serious case of denial. To be honest, Mr. Freeman wants us to emulate the White Queen from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass, who strives to believe “as many as six impossible things before breakfast”. Then again, even the White Queen would have trouble believing that Mr. Freeman can make all of our problems go away merely by sprinkling some sort of magic pink pixie dust over everything that he considers power-drunk or pigheaded. I prefer to believe things that my experience tells me are true, such as that this screams of the old belief that headlong jerks are merely neurotic Luddites. I’ll say that again, because I want it to sink in: Mr. Freeman’s apologues are a quick-fix detour, a placebo aimed at surface symptoms, and an excuse to hand over the country to negligent, peckersniffin’ loan sharks.Kind Regards, Corona Smith

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