[Update at the End]
Le Nouvel Observateur has just written an article, on “The America We Love.”
The poster child for this effort is Michael Moore.
No, really. They honestly say Michael Moore is emblematic of the America that the French intelligentsia love.
Well, I guess that would explain why Jerry Lewis is a national hero there.
If you think about it, it probably isn’t that surprising. Moore is a bloated, dishonest, profane relic of the old left – kind of like France’s economy and much of its cultural elite, especially the radical insurgents who rose to prominence after the Summer of 1968.
Moore constantly spouts “truths” that aren’t really factual – he sort of spits out something like a fact (this bank gives out guns with new accounts) and then spins a yarn to prove his point (e.g. the bank is proof of a culture of gun violence). The French press operates the same way – most of my small handful of French friends living in France believe that the U.S. has become an armed camp after 9/11, and we’re sending liberals to Gitmo. It’s not their fault, entirely; it’s what the papers tell them.
Finally, Moore hates pretty much everything about old America, and he does so hypocritically – kinda like how the French elite hate us and our Red State values, but do nothing to stop the incursion of Levis, McDonalds, and American fims. Like the French, Moore really hates free market capitalism, the associated protestant work ethic and morals, and all the hard work that come with it — but Moore doesn’t mind being paid big bucks for his ranting criticism. Neither do the French mind being paid 40 hours wages for 36 hours work. Like the sclerotic French business community, Moore tells us that he loves unions – but you find a French multinational operating in the U.S. and you’ll find non-union labor. Just like Moore’s show. Admittedly, Moore outdoes the French in this respect; he heaps abuse on his laborers in a manner that would have shocked Papillon.
Yeah, I can see how Michael Moore is the kind of American that the French intelligentsia would love. He’s got the heart of Marcuse, with the body of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and the wallet of a Rothschild. But this particular relationship is about as attractive as one of those fat chick pornos that the crudest among your friends might send you as a gag, featuring some 500 pound woman. I’m sure the lovin’ turns somebody on, somewhere… but for the love of God, I wish they wouldn’t email me shit like that. Open the email, and all you can think is, “owwww, my brain burns.” Yeah, for me, the love affair between Moore and the Euro-intelligentsia is about that repulsive.
But the Michael Moore thing is worse. At least you can delete the porno, and at least the French don’t publish it on the front pages of their papers.
It seems that when Michael Moore makes an appearance, he’s rather particular about what he’ll drink, requiring “X” bottles of Evian water to drink, presumably chilled to a certain temperature. So not only is Moore the kind of American that the French love, but he’s the kind of dumbass American consumer that French ad execs love. After all, Evian is just Naive spelled backwards. The whole Evian craze is really silly anyhow, because any Frenchman worth a damn would rather drink sparkling water like Perrier or Pelligrino, than Evian.
This is newsworthy to me, because I always pictured Moore’s adventures in gastronomy as more Fat Bastard than J-Lo. I just can imagine him swilling the water around in his mouth, sucking it with his breath and pronouncing its lovely bouquet and earthy undertones. In my mind, his eating habits are more like where Fat Bastard is in in bed, mostly naked and pustulent, gnawing on huge turkey legs while chocolate sauce, Tennants Lager and fried chicken crumbs drip off his chin, down his man-boobs…