I am often accused of being an old-fashioned man. This, despite the fact that I’m using a keyboard to enter my thoughts into a digital medium via a thing called the Internet. And hey, I prefer brass cartridges over muzzle-loading, so I’m not that old-fashioned (unlike some of my Readers, who believe that this brass thing is just a passing fad).
If you want to know what gets me going, however, consider the following pics, and guess why I tend to prefer tradition over modernity. We’ll open with the modern ones:
And you all know about my preferences in architecture:
So yeah, I guess I am old-fashioned. Feel free to envy me.
Also, Berlin — 1890 and today:
Now, I will grant the fact that the place was bombed to shit by the Brits and Murkins and shelled to ruin by the Russkis during the slight disturbances of the mid-1940s, but still…
If London is trying to make itself into some kind of copy of Manhattan, it’s looking like a roaring success — if, that is, you’re going for the “soulless, impersonal, could-be-any-city” look.
Of course, I think it looked better back when I were a nipper:
That looks like London. The other looks like shit.
…and I’m not just talking about the Modernist buildings, either. My own loathing of this architectural form is, I think, well documented (here, here).
What Theodore Dalrymple talks about is how awful the first actual Modernist architects were: Gropius, Van Der Rohe and of course, the execrable Le Corbusier (to name but three) were all either pure totalitarians (Le Corbusier) or Nazi sympathizers and supporters. But we all knew that.
What Dalrymple explains further is how this “school” of architectural thought has turned into the leitmotif of all modern architectural teaching (just as Marxism has infected the liberal arts disciplines):
[He] knows that he is arguing not against an aesthetic, but against an ironclad ideology. The architectural Leninists have been determined so to indoctrinate the public that they hope and expect a generation will grow up knowing nothing but modernism, and therefore will be unable to judge it. (All judgment is comparative, as Doctor Johnson said.) In Paris recently, I saw an advertisement on the Métro (a few days before the fire in Notre-Dame) to the effect that Paris would not be Paris without the Centre Pompidou—which, of course, has a good claim to be the ugliest building in the world. In the face of such an advertisement promoted by the cultural elite, what ordinary person would dare demur?
That description of the Centre Pompidou in Paris, by the way, is not egregious:
…and that’s the “pretty” side. Here’s the hideous one:
I am also heartened by Dalrymple’s characterization of the horrible Tour Montparnasse as “said to be the most hated building in Paris” (and with good reason):
Never a jihadi-piloted airliner when you need one…
Read the Dalrymple piece for the full horror.
From Patricia McCarthy:
Our left has done such terrible damage over the years. They have destroyed academia, especially our once great universities. Few of them today permit free speech or freedom from the forced acceptance of all things politically correct. They no longer value critical thinking, so they do not teach it. They indoctrinate. Students who deviate from the new rules that seem to have leapt off the pages of Orwell’s 1984 will be harassed, punished. They have terrorized the young with their frightening exhortations of man-caused global warming hysteria. They are working hard to obliterate the absolute truth of gender. Science and biology be damned.
Kinda sounds a lot like the Preamble to the Declaration Of Independence, doesn’t it? Let’s hope that words like this can spark a similar reaction among normal, decent people.
And the article is a LOT better than this small excerpt.
By the way, when did this bullshit become acceptable?
I know, it’s supposed to do… what, exactly? Fuck with my eyesight?
This works perfectly:
Rule #1 of photography: no damn unfocused blurriness, unless for effect — and then it must be the focal point of the pic.
Blurring the borders just makes my head ache after a while, and I loathe this affectation with a passion.