Emma's Pantaloons?

Despite the fact that the biopic based on the Modernist(?) painter Dora Carrington is fine, with a Merchant Ivy languidness to it, despite Emma Thompson's borderline slapstick sincerity, the poignant tragedy Christopher Hampton attempts to decant with such care in this drawling movie is beyond my pay grade: a bisexual painter and a homosexual biographer who was a founding member of Bloomsbury form an inseparable attachment? Shielding each other? I have viewed this drama off and on since WPHL joined This TV syndication, and my attention always, invariably strays.

A wise deconstruction of an old queen (which he certainly was) like Henry James can tell us a lot about the complexity of human shields utilized for cover, but does romance spare us from our own self-deception? What I pick up from Pryce as Lytton Strachey is a pathetic sense of debauchery, redeemed by the fact that Dora was most comfortable in the role of his disciple, but to commit suicide over her loss? It doesn't pass the smell test. I certainly have doubts as to whether or not Thompson believed in the role.

Wiki says Strachey purportedly had a relationship with Keynes, and Niall Ferguson caused an uproar in asserting certain dismal views by Keynes in relation to recession and stimulus, i.e., "we're all dead in the end" were due to his homosexuality, which earned the energetic Scott excoriating censure, leading to a public apology, which ignited my irrelevant indignation. I scolded Dr. Ferguson quite forcefully in his comment window for not standing his ground, which in no way indicates I've solved any puzzles on radicalized aberrations.

The Postman Always Rings Twice?

"Stop being a wuss." The American idiom. 

Yes, the half dead cripple down a ways from Harvard's faculty offices upbraided the merry Niall Ferguson. WTF do I know about Keynesian stimulus and aggregate demand? Not nothing, but also not very much, and the reason for this is a very studied winner, on or around the time of Gerard Debreu, won the Nobel in economics for the radical assertion of "doing nothing" to manage free markets.

But let me deconstruct what Niall meant, in a revisionist sensibility: Keynes was a repressed homosexual and this therefore this influenced his lack of optimism in bust cycles; it may not be true, but Ferguson was acknowledging difference, and goodness forbid. Pink camels like Manuel read their public the riot act on the hidden genocidal impetus toward gays. This is poppy cock. I befriended a number of gay individuals Manuel, and not all of them intended me psychological harm, but many of these people hurt me, and then they wander off. Niall is not blaming Keynes for the great recession, only asserting that Keynesian lack of optimism came from a darkened well spring. This assertion may be contended, and is, vigorously, but it is not an observation made out of hate.

Me? I am asserting that my personal experiences created the hate, and that the hatred is justified. I simply haven't expounded on what this means, since I do not believe extermination in any measure is viable. Murder may be liberating, but it also consumes a significant amount of energy to conceal, and has no geopolitical justification.

Neither does subsistence, however, which, like my latest spring head cold, threatens to envelop me, and that is in some measure my fault, with lack of post-graduate completion, but not entirely, as I have always known I wasn't healthy enough to field an average teaching load. Hence maybe I wasn't wrong not to accrue more debt. But you have no idea what it's like; you cannot.

The majority of babies born disabled should be euthanized. Oral history informs that I fought for my life, and surprise. If someone had shown me what my life would be, would my premature struggle had been so adamant?

An "Oh Christ" moment

I try avoid chasing every issue in a blog post, and I know who Keynes is without being fluent on his conservative theories, but the fact that the new equality of homosexuality has to send a man like Ferguson into a tailspin points to why I have paid my price to be offensive. Skidelsky veers off into futurist theory of the kind the raises its time honored head every time the free market goes bust, and this is not a concern to dismiss, but my concern is what this species is doing to itself every time science offers it a biological rationale to say barriers need erosion.

Opprobrium does not change what impressions offer up to our private judgments: Niall Ferguson is more important (or more accurately, more prominent) than I am, and no doubt many thousands of others, because he succeeds in an equally important institutional environment that processes data in such a way as to engage our perspectives on social function, degrees of affluence, the lack of it, and in the doctor's case in particular, how past discoveries inform our present.

Perhaps Keynes cynicism on economic models in a downturn had nothing to do with orientation, but group think castigation against an off color, possibly lazy segue, is a load of bull dung in a sinkhole. World population pressures, and innovations surrounding that, are beginning to outpace vast sectors of human labor that used to be important, and if the shit isn't hitting the fan now, it well might into the next millennium.  People like me are a case in point, state invested, educated, and useless, and this is in the developed world, where we are forbidden to discuss uselessness and the human animal because no one wants to be charged with a hate crime.