John Derbyshire oinks again

NRO Conservative columnist John Derbyshire has blessed us all with an apology.

Now don't jump off the train expecting this consumate male pig to apologize for being, well, y'know, a pig. No, no. He's apologizing because he couldn't be a pig. He had to (shudder) listen to a woman tell him his son was involved in an "incident". (Allegedly fighting).

The kid apparently learns his behaviour at home.

I have to go to my son's school to talk to the Dean about an "incident." Apparently Danny's been fighting. My immediate thought on that was: "Great! Has he been WINNING?" But of course that is "inappropriate" in the girlified public-school systems of today. The kiddies are supposed to "work out" their "issues."

I'd like to "work out" my "issues" with the school Dean the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, it's a woman, so I have to sit there like a good, cowed, law-abiding, middle-class American doofus and listen to how unnacceptably boyish my boy is. I hate the modern world.

We have been terribly deprived.

It would have been pure justice if Derbyshire had just done what he really wanted and then have a woman beat a tattoo on his forehead. But, I wonder, if the Dean had been a male would Derbyshire really have resorted to the old-fashioned way? People who mouth it up about how they would simply resort to a good old-fashioned beating normally couldn't muster the internal fortitude to make a fist.

Of course we're more accustomed to this type of product in Derbyshire's columns:

Did I buy, or browse, a copy of the November 17 GQ, in order to get a look at Jennifer Aniston's bristols?** No, I didn't. While I have no doubt that Ms. Aniston is a paragon of charm, wit, and intelligence, she is also 36 years old. Even with the strenuous body-hardening exercise routines now compulsory for movie stars, at age 36 the forces of nature have won out over the view-worthiness of the unsupported female bust.

It is, in fact, a sad truth about human life that beyond our salad days, very few of us are interesting to look at in the buff. Added to that sadness is the very unfair truth that a woman's salad days are shorter than a man's — really, in this precise context, only from about 15 to 20.

It would seem that Derbyshire, in his 40s, is telling us that not only does he hate the modern world, but the only female bodies he finds attractive are legally protected from him.

I have often wondered why the NRO keeps Derbyshire around. Lately, I have been wondering why he's allowed to consume perfectly good air.

At least he kept the Shakespearian references out of his latest column.... unless that's what he meant by old-fashioned.