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Cranked
Up By Dave Shiflett,
NRO Columnist |
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But none is more pleasing than this question: Daddy, when did you become a crank? Some parents, to be sure, will recoil at such a question, especially in this season of Glad Tidings. We shall deal with those louts presently. The fact is, the better breed of parent realizes a greater compliment could not be paid, for to achieve crankdom is to reach the epitome of human existence. The child who asks this question is actually saying: Noble parent, you have not lived in vain. For what is a crank if not someone who has solved the great mysteries of life and settled the major issues of existence? The crank knows what's what, and makes no bones about it. The crank's message to his children — as opposed to The Children — is that if you truly seek you shall find; if you proceed far enough down the Yellow Brick Road you will indeed find your brain. Or, as a crank might put it, you don't have to be stupid all your life, kid. The proper crank — as opposed to the mere flake, raver, and braying jackass — also has much to teach America. For one thing, he (and she, of course, though this won't be pointed out again) knows you never take lessons from a child. Children are deeply barbaric and intellectually shallow. They are ruled by emotion. Their artistic tastes are highly undeveloped, and given the choice between wisdom and expediency — well, there is no contest. Any adult who suggests we learn from kids should be held in deep contempt, and probably investigated. Children aren't the only creatures in the crank's crosshairs. Special ire is reserved for adults who make a public shrine of the so-called "open mind." Cranks know these people's minds are made up far ahead of time, which if fine. The problem is that they use the "open mind" guise to disarm opponents. These people are liars to their rotten cores. They deserve a holly stake through their toxic hearts. The proper crank, it should be added, is certain of most things, but unlike the raver, flake, braying jackass and possessor of the "open mind" he does not use his certitude as a sword, but rather as a shield. The reason is simple: The proper crank isn't out to convert anyone. As far as he is concerned, the rest of the world can go straight to hell, where it belongs. It is also true that cranks are hugely tolerant — toward other cranks. Doctrinal differences make little difference. Put a left-wing crank and a right wing crank in the same room and they will compare notes. Introduce an editorial writer fond of the "one the one hand, other hand" formulation and the cranks will tear him to shreds. Proper cranks also dislike many people with whom they agree, especially if they sense the latter have come to their positions too young or too easily. Indeed, a crank will often argue the other side of the position rather than ally himself with a callow youth, especially a kid wearing a bow tie. Proper cranks, to be sure, don't waste a lot of time arguing. Why waste words on dolts? When an interlocutor begins a sentence with phrases such as "Don't you think it's worth considering the possibility" or "You can at least give him the benefit of the doubt" a simple "No" — delivered with plenty of snap — cuts them off mid-sentence. Other conversation enders include: "How very interesting," "Is he, now?" "I'm sure that's the case" and "So, have you had your oil changed lately?" When a bright-eyed and hollow-headed inquirer asks a particularly silly question, such as "What does it mean to be a truly well-rounded person in our age of specialization?" the well-rounded Crank quotes John Brockman: "Nobody knows, and you can't find out." Cranks do have heroes, none of which is more widely admired than Mother Nature, who is especially appreciated this time of year. This may come as a shock to those who believe her admirers are necessarily fond of hugging her trees, singing hymns to her clouds, kneeling before her scorching sun, and making similar attempts to win her favor. The crank recognize that Mother Nature is the biggest crank of all. She looks down from her royal throne at her weak-kneed supplicants and smirks. She's got no ears for all that nonsense. Tens of thousands can gather in a field to sing her praises and seek her favors; she shows her appreciation with a thunderstorm, a tidal wave, a plague or a wonderful Christmas blizzard, followed by an ice storm. Many people, to be sure, will continue to mistake crankdom as a sign of a closed mind, when in fact it is entirely based on a foundation of experience. The crank has heard all the arguments and has made up his mind. An unmade mind, he recognizes, is a defective product. That is why there is no creature more reviled by the proper crank than the softheaded parent. Their chief desire is to be "friends" to their children. Call them a crank and they'll go get a Mohawk. Yet as the crank knows, these parents are dangerous. They're teaching their children that experience doesn't matter, that emotion is equal to thought, and that coming to firm conclusions is to be avoided at all costs. As the crank knows, if you can't make up your mind by your middle age you haven't got one. Such people should be investigated and relieved of their parental duties. It is worth pointing out that most cranks don't like Santa Claus. The reason is simple: His entire racket is based on taking orders from children and sending parents the bill. Cranks also wonder why an old man wants a bunch of kids sitting in his lap. As every crank knows, Mr. Claus should most definitely be investigated, along with his pal, the Easter Bunny. If we can liberate Afghanistan, why not America, too? |
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any pleasing
words may fall from a child's lips: Daddy, I love you; Daddy, I've
decided to forego braces so you can spend the money on a new guitar;
Daddy, here's my winning lottery ticket. You deserve it more than
I do.
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