On Literary and Other Genius - Trapped Like the Queen Mother’s Rat
Next Post

Press {{ keys }} + D to make this page bookmarked.


On Literary and Other Genius - Trapped Like the Queen Mother’s Rat


The New York Times wants you to believe that Donald Trump and everyone that voted for him is a white supremacist. What’s more, the newspapers of the globalist elites will convolute and use anything to imprison minds. Here’s my theory on how the most brilliant minds are squeezed out like lemon juice onto the grilled feast that is our free will.

An opinion piece typed out for the NYTs by Pankaj Mishra (predictably) entitled The Religion of Whiteness Becomes a Suicide Cult,” offers up white people onto the altar of bigotry with a unique reverse discriminatory flair. The sophisticated subscriber to Arthur Gregg Sulzberger’s famous broadsheet newspaper must be lapping up Mishra’s unsettling short. Those quilt ridden white folks in the upper-middle class can take a few moments to self-flagellate, while redneck hating green, orange, red, black, brown, and turquoise folk gets to bob their angry heads in approval. Yes indeed, race self-worship is simmering to the top of our consciousness once again. Only it’s not just white people being stirred into a blood rage. But wait a minute, who is this Pankaj Mishra, anyhow?

The novelist, Foreign Policy magazine, named one of the top 100 global thinkers seems to be in with the right crowd, that’s for sure. A Visiting Fellow for 2007–08 at the Department of English, at University College, London, Mishra was elected as a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 2008.

The man did not make a name for himself until he accused Harvard historian Niall of being racist over the latter’s ultra-conservative (almost fascist) ideas and his book “Civilisation: The West and the Rest.” And Ethan Casey called out Mishra for his hypocrisy in this article at the magazine Open back in 2011. Casey takes issue with Mishra’s narrow view on America by pointing out the Indian novelists superficial study our country. Looking at Mishra as a travel writer turned literary critic for the elites, Casey nails him here:

“When I was 12, my father bought me a copy of The Big Sky, AB Guthrie Jr’s great novel of early-19th-century mountain men, off the paperback rack at the famous tourist trap Wall Drug. Has Mishra read The Big Sky? Or Larry McMurtry’s masterpiece Lonesome Dove? Or The Grapes of Wrath? Or Their Eyes Were Watching God? If he’s read these or other representative exemplars of the great and diverse adventures of American fiction, his writings give no indication.”

As Casey goes on to explain, Pankaj Mishra constructs an America for his readers that is useful for his own purposes. Like so many journalists these days, the author who introduced new editions of Rudyard Kipling’s Kim, has transformed himself into a useful tool of the globalist elites. Prior to 2008 and the Royal Society of Literature, Mishra was a talented writer and thinker who might have become a significant someone for the Indian people. Then, something seemed to transform the gifted writer. I think it was his association with the Royal Society of Literature (RSL), and indoctrination through that learned society’s mission to “reward literary merit and excite literary talent." Who knows, who or what Mishra met there at Queen Elizabeth’s literary society? But, one thing is certain, the author’s interests expanded greatly afterward.

He seems to have disappeared for about a year only to emerge at The Guardian to tell readers of the “assassinate the public intellectual,” in a short review of America’s smaller niche magazines. Reading his skillful and passionate essay on literary and intellectual quarterlies, I get the feeling Mishra, like so many of us, only feels empowered by unveiling his own powerlessness. Whatever came over Mishra in the mid to late 2000s, he came out in 2009 as a critic (justifiably) of American journalism, imperialism,and society. In reading The Guardian story “Author, author: The status of American literature,” it hit me. The genius of it astonished me. Mishra and many of the rest of the “west’s” propaganda weapons did not sell out – they were “harnessed” – cultivated – rewarded – and “excited” by the Queen Mother’s home guard. 2008! That was the year the New York Times and the rest harnessed the power, the intellectual inquisitiveness and passion of a genius for their own purposes, to baste the Chinese turkey in the familiar American juice, the memory of Tiananmen Square, through the narrowly focused intellectual eyeball of literary criticism. Short and sweet version – I’m elated to have found one of my own puzzle pieces for how good propaganda is made.

Venturing over to The Federalist from 2016, Stella Morabito discusses the conversion of good journalism into harmful propaganda. She mirrors my argument here in showing how the elites actually conscript journalists to do their bidding. She aptly recites the enticements; access, privilege, prestige, fame, influence, and very high salaries versus the journalistic hell that is obscurity. Morabito encapsulates reality with the fact that “totalitarians find it compulsory to turn journalists into their propagandists.” So, for a world run by the 1% the idea of decentralizing power, or preventing undue power in the system, is insoluble. The tenets protected by press freedom etc., they had to be subverted. So, how do you subvert free speech and free thought? By controlling it, that’s how.

Now we turn to the subversion of the larger sphere of journalism. In 2015, Prospect magazine nominated Mishra to its list of 50 World Thinkers. For those unfamiliar, Prospect is a monthly British general interest magazine, specializing in politics, economics, and current affairs. Prospect also holds an annual “Think Tank Awards” supported in part by funds from Royal Dutch Shell. And with this, we arrive at once again at the precipice of Alice’s Wonderland. Just when I’ve received the revelation into how great minds go bad, the mutual gratification society that is elitism snatches center stage. Just when I had begun to admire the literary genius of Pankaj Mishra, his latent stupidity shines. My own buried idiocy glows. We are all just used. That is it. The best we can hope for is the tickling tendrils of lucid thought on Americanism. If only the propagandists could be foiled! If only we could read in between the lines of geniuses like Mishra, the scope and depth of American society are made up of. The aforementioned Ethan Casey addresses this in his admonishment of Mishra for having portrayed the U.S. from New York:

“But I wish he would consider addressing his incisive intelligence, reporting skills and narrative talents to an attempt to understand my country as the deeply troubled, various, and extremely interesting society that I know it to be. If he doesn't do it, I will, but I can’t write as anything but an American. The United States of America, a historically important country in the early stages of a crisis of likely world-shaking severity, is crying out for a new Alexis de Tocqueville, a foreign writer who will depict it, with all its damaging contradictions and bad habits, unsparingly yet with human sympathy. No writer could do that better than Pankaj Mishra — if only he got away from the Eastern Seaboard.”

And there is the requiem of the truth we all claim to seek. By tacit control of the top of the literary and thought circuit, the ruling class exerts control across the wider matrix of free thought. It’s brilliant while being caveman simple at the same time. All the Queen Mother’s rats stare inward at one another, while the wicked eyes underneath the crown grimace at us through the bars. Reality is that stark, that brutal, that deceiving.

Author: Winston Smith