#rsrh Scenes from the class struggle in David Frum’s cocktail party.

Why then, this is Hell: nor are they out of it (Via Hot Air Headlines).

“We’re originally from Canada,” the hostess, Danielle Crittenden Frum, declared, throwing her slender arms up in the air. “We still haven’t quite realized that in D.C., garden parties are meant for September, not June.”

That’s from a New York Times article (rather impolitely, and quite wrongly, titled “The Party In Exile”) – and it’s got a guest list that one would expect from a dinner party thrown by the Frums: bitter, elitist opinion-writers and former politicians. Oh, not all of them.  To be fair, I’d happily meet Ayaan Hirsi Ali: she’s brave in a context alien to most of the oh-so-persecuted Frum cocktail party attendees.  And I’d also happily meet Chris Hitchens: he’s crazy, and shows all the signs of being an excellent drinking companion.  But as for the rest of them… well, to quote either Bob Heinlein or Mark Twain: I’d trade most of them for a dog, and then shoot the dog.

And, for the record: these people were never the Republican party.  They’re just its entourage.  The real members of the party are the activists in the town halls, the voters in their homes, and the politicians from Congress and the governorships, on down.  And I am forced to note that we haven’t particularly missed having most of Frum’s party-goers along for the ride, thus far…