P.J. O’Rourke strikes again.

Rutgers, that famed ranked number 69th university in whatever the Hades barbaroi province it resides in, recently got noted for raising Cain about inviting professor Rice, an accomplished black woman who worked her arse from nothing (in the Jim Crow Democrat South that libnorants like to wail about, no less, even though they have developed selective amnesia when it comes to just exactly which party it was that stood for slavery and, after that, segregation) to becoming, among other accomplishments too numerous to mention, a professor (already mentioned), an accomplished concert pianist and the first black female secretary of state.

Which led to her being disinvited in favor of some reliably liberal fascist demoturd who’d say all the right things. Because BOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHHH!!!

Mustn’t make the future vote slaves on the liberal fascist plantation think that they, too, might aspire to more than plebeian status, you know. Might upset the demoturd patricians, don’t you know?

PJ, obviously, was not one of the alternatives invited. He has a reputation of being honest and familiar with facts, neither of which are things that belong in the modern liberal fascist pantheon.

But his never-held commencement speech is a thing to behold. One slight excerpt, but you really have to read it all:

Some of your professors don’t believe that Secretary Rice would be worth listening to. Some believe you need to be taught to disapprove of her morals and ethics. I am quoting your state’s Star-Ledger newspaper: “‘Attending the teach-in will be a strong signal that we will not sit quietly while a small group of irresponsible people [although I’d thought we’d established who they were during the sit-in] dishonor our beloved university,’ said history professor Rudolph Bell.”

Rudolph “Jingle” Bell. It is to be hoped poor Rudolph doesn’t have a very shiny nose.

Anyway, you might have heard something good from Secretary Rice. You’ll hear nothing good from me.

And he’s right about that. Not that the self-obsessed, vain, useless ne’erdowells deserve to hear anything good. They’re Generation Idiot, the wasted generation, the ones who just might conceivably be remembered favorably as useful fertilizer for future turnip harvests. If they’re lucky.

Personally, His Majesty hopes that they will be remembered. As a cautionary tale for future generations of actually useful humans, and by cautionary tale we mean “something to put the fear of G-d into them so they’ll eat their damn vegetables and learn their multiplication tables.”

And, if so remembered, they might in the end turn out to have been at least marginally more useful than Justin Bieber.


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By Emperor Misha I

Ruler of all I survey -- and then some.

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