The Seven Deadly Virtues: 18 Conservative Writers on Why the Virtuous Life is Funny as Hell
P. J. O'Rourke, Christopher Buckley, Jonah Goldberg, Joe Queenan, Christopher Caldwell, Andrew Ferguson, Jonathan V. Last, Micha
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An all-star team of eighteen conservative writers offers a hilarious, insightful, sanctimony-free remix of William Bennett’s The Book of Virtues—without parental controls. The Seven Deadly Virtues sits down next to readers at the bar, buys them a drink, and an hour or three later, ushers them into the revival tent without them even realizing it.
The book’s contributors include Sonny Bunch, Christopher Buckley, David “Iowahawk” Burge, Christopher Caldwell, Andrew Ferguson, Jonah Goldberg, Michael Graham, Mollie Hemingway, Rita Koganzon, Matt Labash, James Lileks, Rob Long, Larry Miller, P. J. O’Rourke, Joe Queenan, Christine Rosen, and Andrew Stiles. Jonathan V. Last, senior writer at the Weekly Standard, editor of the collection, is also a contributor. All eighteen essays in this book are appearing for the first time anywhere.
In the book’s opening essay, P. J. O’Rourke observes: “Virtue has by no means disappeared. It’s as much in public view as ever. But it’s been strung up by the heels. Virtue is upside down. Virtue is uncomfortable. Virtue looks ridiculous. All the change and the house keys are falling out of Virtue’s pants pockets.”
Here are the virtues everyone (including the book’s contributors) was taught in Sunday school but have totally forgotten about until this very moment. In this sanctimony-free zone:
• Joe Queenan observes: “In essence, thrift is a virtue that resembles being very good at Mahjong. You’ve heard about people who can do it, but you’ve never actually met any of them.”
• P. J. O’Rourke notes: “Fortitude is quaint. We praise the greatest generation for having it, but they had aluminum siding, church on Sunday, and jobs that required them to wear neckties or nylons (but never at the same time). We don’t want those either.”
• Christine Rosen writes: “A fellowship grounded in sociality means enjoying the company of those with whom you actually share physical space rather than those with whom you regularly and enthusiastically exchange cat videos.”
• Rob Long offers his version of modern day justice: if you sleep late on the weekend, you are forced to wait thirty minutes in line at Costco.
• Jonah Goldberg offers: “There was a time when this desire-to-do-good-in-all-things was considered the only kind of integrity: ‘Angels are better than mortals. They’re always certain about what is right because, by definition, they’re doing God’s will.’ Gabriel knew when it was okay to remove a mattress tag and Sandalphon always tipped the correct amount.”
• Sonny Bunch dissects forbearance, observing that the fictional Two Minutes Hate of George Orwell’s 1984 is now actually a reality directed at living, breathing people. Thanks, in part, to the Internet, “Its targets are designated by a spontaneously created mob—one that, due to its hive-mind nature—is virtually impossible to call off.”
By the time readers have completed The Seven Deadly Virtues, they won’t even realize that they’ve just been catechized into an entirely different—and better—moral universe.
your flowers and calling you names. After his little rant, the other comments flow like a river, by turns snide, envious, enraged, vengeful, unrelenting, obsessive, and merciless. On the Internet, we call this lovely combination of attributes “snark.” As a mode of discourse, snark has eaten the Internet. The recipe for making it is simple enough: a dollop of sneering, a dash of bitter insults, scorn to taste, and then about five gallons of sarcasm to drown out any semblance of wit. But the most
saw a stand that had souvenirs and bought her a hair-clasp with the Hemisphere and Peristyle, and she said he should get those cufflinks, too. They were smart. Handshake and a cheek-smooch on the Brooklyn stoop. He went home and threw the cufflinks in the drawer and never wore them. Now and then when he went through the drawer he’d come across them, and wonder who would wear those things today, the Fair all gone and forgotten. Huh. Who was that girl? Frances. He’d pick them up and look at them
page links. It would be hoarding to keep the letters; it would be folly to think anyone who went through my stuff someday would care. On the next trip to the antique store, I put the ones I’d bought back in the drawer with the rest. Nearly everything I’ve collected in the last twenty years I could sell tomorrow. Once I’ve scanned it, it’s dead weight. I love the heft of the old Life magazines, solid and pliable as a seal’s flippers, and I’d sell them off except that someone would cut them up
seal the cracks in the structure through which Adam Wheelers slip. It’s hard to know who’s worse. For every Adam Wheeler who wins a seat at Harvard, the members of the Honesty Enforcement Front argue, twenty honest, hard-working, high-achieving, never-sleeping applicants are left out in the cold. (And one of those just happens to be their very own child!) All of which is why admissions offices ought to conduct top-secret, clearance-level background checks on applicants. And if schools aren’t
prizing and practicing rather than merely retweeting. CHAPTER 14 Forbearance Opting Out of the Politicized Life Sonny Bunch NOT SO LONG AGO, in an op-ed for the Los Angeles Times, a woman by the name of Madeline Janis spent 751 words of precious editorial-page real estate bemoaning the fact that she didn’t like her dying father’s politics. Miss Janis, a progressive lioness, wrote that her dad routinely refused to engage her in arguments. Instead, he preferred enjoying her company and talking