The New God of AltRight
A young reader writes in to ask about a friend, who who used to be ardent supporter of AltRigh and now, falling in love with Jim Morrison, has embraced Freud, Nietzsche, Rimbaud, and the other heroes of the Bohemian Left.
I don’t wish to be unkind to adolescents, but he has to be a complete dope to fall for Jim Morrison, a spoiled military brat who wrote some of the most embarrassing rock and roll lyrics ever gushed forth by a dumb kid on dope. Poor Morrison thought his lyrics were 'poetry' in the vein of Rimbaud. Now, I have to confess that Rimbaud is my least favorite French poet, but at his worst and craziest he wrote on a level that Morrison could not even comprehend, much less imitate.
Jim hooked up with an OK band—“The Doors”—which had a string of hits, partly because of the keyboardist. Obviously, the name echoed Huxley's book on drugs, The Doors of Perception, and even in the drug-soaked 1960's, Morrison was conspicuous for his abuses and self-indulgence. He was too cute for words in his early years and exuded an adolescent sexuality that drew teeny-bopper girls and the sad male specimens who dreamed of attracting teeny-bopper girls. He liked all the things Bohemians were supposed to like—Blake, Freud, and especially Rimbaud. Drugs and alcohol killed him, no loss to anyone except members of his family who loved him until the end.
From the perspective of anyone who knows anything about anything, Morrison was either a tragic case of a somewhat talented kid who indulge himself to the point he could never mature as an artist or, if we don’t wish to be kind, a hopeless loser. In either case, he exemplified the "low dishonest decade" that spawned him. To sink the level where you can like his songs, it helps to smoke a lot of weed.
Why would a kid attracted to AltRight fall for Jim Morrison, Freud, and Nietzsche? Why wouldn't they? Morrison is simply a latter-day Peter Pan on acid, the perfect model for displaced white kids who don't know who or what they are. Freud gives him fake insights that seem to demystify sex and love--another AltRight obsession--and Nietzsche gives young males, troubled about their identity, the delusion that by acting like hoodlums they are becoming Supermen. I remember something Walter Berns once wrote about his fellow-Straussian, Harry Jaffa: Socrates was a gadfly, and Harry thinks that, by being a pain-in-the-ass, he is another Socrates.
Next time you see your friend he could be AntiFa or transgender. It’s a tough world.