Friday, December 18, 2009

New depths of sycophancy

Brace for that "just threw up a little in my mouth" reaction:
Andrew has an inhuman ability to write a well-reasoned and beautifully-crafted 700-word blog post in about fifteen minutes.
-- Daily Dish ghostblogger Patrick Appel
(Hat-tip: AmSpecBlog.) Glenn Greenwald's sockpuppets never praised him so effusively. Sharmuta would be embarrassed to say that about Charles Johnson.

Wipe your mouth when you're done, Patrick.


  1. No, no, no, Stacy! You're reading it all wrong! The "inhuman ability" means he writes like a chimp!

  2. "Beautifully-crafted"? Yeah. Let's all just walk away from that one, as well as the assumed value of Sullivan's writing.

    Observe by contrast Murray Rothbard's habits and the rate and value of his output. I'm not a Rothbardian or anarcho-libertarian, but I've got good things to say about Dr. Rothbard. And does anyone even have to point out how superbly he fairs in a comparison with Sully?

    When asked what was the source of his prodigious scholarly and popular output, he would reply: "Hatred is my muse." He would read something, say by a Marxist, Keynesian, or Chicagoite, become infused with disgust, and swear a mighty oath that this particular bit of idiocy would no longer stand, at least without a reaction from him.

    I always wondered when Murray wrote, since he seemed to be partying all the time. Let me tell you a story that explains this mystery. In the early years of my own writing career, I would keep track of the number of pages I wrote per day. On some days it was just two or three pages, try as hard as I might (double spaced type written, 300 words per page, or some 600–900 words). Other days, more. For me, if I did at least 5 pages in 24 hours, my Jewish guilt complex was satisfied at least for the moment. On rare occasions I was much more productive. Sometimes I did 10 and even 15 pages, but this was rare. One day, however, I got up really early in the morning (it must have been on an occasion that I didn’t spend the previous evening at Murray’s) worked hard and productively all day, and by the time I went to sleep at around 1am the next morning I had done 23 pages.

    The next day, full of myself as only a young man can be, I called Murray and asked him how many pages of material he wrote on a typical day, and on his best day. I wouldn’t have had the audacity, then or ever, to try to compare with him on quality; just quantity.

    His response? "M’rech, m’rech. Who keeps count of how much he writes in a day? Only a nut." ("M’rech, m’rech" is Murray-speak. It sounds half like Donald Duck talking, half an other-worldly grunt, and the third half the ineffable Murray. He is most likely to reply in this manner to the question: "Murray, what do you think of the State?"). But I insisted that he answer my query. (Murray was always very kind to me. Once, in the early days, before Austrianism took hold in me, I remonstrated with him for having a picture of Ludwig von Mises on his wall. After all, Mises wasn’t an anarchist. Murray just smiled at me and said that one day I’d understand. While I’m bragging about famous people I met, I might as well get in one more: I’m probably one of the few people still living who actually met Ludwig von Mises. Murray dragged a bunch of us to the last seminar given by Mises at NYU. He was very old, soft-spoken, hard of hearing; I really didn’t get much, substantively, from that seminar. But this is a memory I shall always treasure.) After nagging and pushing (I don’t like to brag, well, too much anyway, but I am nothing if not a world-class nudge) Murray finally answered my query about daily productivity: "Eight pages per hour."

    Eight pages per hour? Eight pages per hour? Most reasonably good typists could copy material at only a slightly greater rate of speed. Here he was, creating some of the most stupendous analysis the world has ever known, in practically final draft format (he rarely revised anything) at such an astonishing rate. Probably, the government should have instituted a speed limit for writing that would have applied only to Murray. My most productive day, toiling for about 18 hours, was equal (in quantity only) to slightly less than three of his average hours. Well, at least I finally grasped the secret of his amazing output.

  3. Well it is bonus season at The Dish, and Patrick has holiday obligations. Best to keep the boss happy. He is so excitable you know.

  4. Not sure I totally agree with Proof (above), Stacy, but I'm pretty sure the emphasis is on "inhuman".

  5. Spit or swallow, Patrick?

  6. Well...good to know. More of that, please, and less of what he's currently doing.

  7. I won't argue the beauty of the wordcraft, but well-reasoned? Andrew "Sarah Palin's Uterus is the end of Democracy" Sullivan?

  8. If one is going to crank out copy for the sake of cranking out copy, one ought to make it good.

    Few do.

  9. I just don't know how Patrick Appel can type at all with that thing lodged in his throat.

  10. "Ahdu ha ah ihumaabidy hu ri ah mwe-mweuhnn ah buhuee-crahed se-uhn-huned wed mog p*slurp*oh in abuh fifwheen minuh."--xoxo Patrick

    I bet his neck has a cramp.

  11. How often does Excitable Andy write a 700 word post, unless Palin's uterus has set him off again?

    But, just to take a slap at Mad King Charles, at least Sullivan actually writes something longer then a sentence or two before/after excerpting.

  12. Well, Patrick IS they guy "stewing in his (Andy's) juices" as he said.