TNR sends a mole on the National Review cruise, and comes back with such an astonishing cargo of crazy that there’s a spit-take lurking in each paragraph. (No word on whether they were following this activity schedule.) At this point, you’d really think it impossible to be surprised anymore by the terrifying self-delusion of conservative dead-enders. But you’d be wrong. I never put much stock in the handwringing of those who fretted that the Internet would fragment information consumption, replacing a “daily we” with a “daily me.” But this is a portrait of a group of people stuck in a truly toxic feedback loop: They’ve managed to successfully isolate themselves from the ordinary signals from the outside world that keep ideology at least loosely tethered to the realm of fact—and the pundits manning the barricades have done such a good job that their own belated attempts to provide a reality check won’t be believed.
Steel Hulls Make Good Echo Chambers
June 26th, 2007 · 5 Comments
Tags: Stupid Shit