Bernard-Henri Levy (BHL as they call him in France) may very well be a fine philosopher, but reading this article I am reminded of how truly insufferable his political commentary is. The endless rhetorical questions, the non sequitar references to classical literature, the solemn recitation of inane cliches, all snowballing into the faux-poetry of mock-profundity. On the world financial crisis, we get this:
Is man a predator of man? Does the fear of this predator slumber within us? An anxiety, formerly concealed by a poorly applied varnish of civilization, about a state of nature that is re-emerging? Consider the princes of finance, once so polite, so complicit, so civilized, who have been facing each other at the edge of the abyss, waiting to see who will be the next to fall; consider that dance of wolves, the ferocious ballet of battered predators sniffing at each other, detecting the scent of death on their neighbors, coveting their remains; consider the tango of white-hot hate that has been discreetly called the "drying up of interbank credit."Meanwhile, for more rainy-Monday mocking of French pretentiousness, there is none better than the one and only Garrison Keillor.