Conrad: addendum

I didn’t mention in my previous post, The fall of Conrad Black, that I also forwarded the message I sent to Mr. Black to The National Post ‘letters to the editor’ e-mail address. To my surprise, I received a reply yesterday thanking me for the submission and telling me it would be considered for publication. It must have been an automated response.

Later in the day, an edited version of my message appeared in the Letters column for March 30. It’s the fourth letter on the page, though I posted the full version already.

I’m no end of amused.

The fall of Conrad Black

Conrad Black wrote an entertaining commentary last week in The National Post titled, “The shabby, shallow world of the militant atheist.” You can imagine the reaction. So he’s back this week with, “A reply to my atheist critics — they protest too much.”

What I find most surprising is his arguments are chock-full of fallacies. I have no doubt that Black is a smart man, if somewhat pompous and didactic, which is why his latest missives take me by such surprise. I can see these fallacies, just off the top of my head: appeal to authority, appeal to consequences, appeal to the stone, appeal to widespread belief, argumentum ad hominem, fallacy of composition, judgmental language, suppressed evidence, unwarranted assumption … and no end of proof by verbosity. Indeed, from end to end Black seems to just hammer his message home, and if you take the entire message as a whole, it’s hard to argue. The problem is that if you think about each assertion he makes, they fall like a long line of dominoes.

I found myself writing a message to Mr. Black because his argument is such an utter mess. But then, I saw what could explain it all:

From: Rick Pali <rpali@alienshore.com>
To: cbletters@gmail.com
Subject: What?!
Date: March 28, 2015 at 8:29:27 PM EDT

Mr. Black,

You wrote: “The atheists’ domination of our centres of learning and information is a great vulnerability in the West: it creates acute resentment and dissent among the more religiously tolerant majority, separates learning and information from the greatest pillar of our civilization’s historic development, invites contempt from violently sectarian societies, especially Islamists, and is repugnant to the entire concept of freedom of thought and expression that our universities and free press are supposed to be defending.”

So among all of the religions, races, and nationalities in our multicultural society, atheism alone is such trouble? Even with this tolerant majority? If atheism is so wanting, as you put it, one must wonder what the religious majority is so resentful about. And feeling free not to believe in a supernatural being is repugnant to freedom of thought? Surely Mr. Black, you can do better than this.

I can’t help but believe you’re just having a lark and enjoying stirring the pot because the number of fallacies you’ve employed in your two articles is more surprising than your conclusion! I can see you winking at us, between the lines.

I expected no reply. Why would I? In his second piece, Black expressed his position clearly:

I have always believed that with religion, as with sex, people should inform themselves and decide their own preferences and precepts, be discreet about them, and respect the practices of others unless they are sociopathic or insane.

Given this thought, one would wonder why he wrote those two articles in The National Post. The only explanation I can see is that he’s trying to get a rise out of his readers.

Then I received his reply.

From: Conrad Black <cmb@blackam.net>
To: “rpali@alienshore.com” <rpali@alienshore.com>
Date: March 29, 2015 at 1:58:09 AM EDT
Subject: FW: What?!

What on earth are you babbling about? Give it a rest; you’re overwrought. CB

Well, he sent me a message, but there is no reply (at all). I wonder why he bothered. Either my conclusion is correct and he won’t admit it, or he simply has no reply because his argument is nothing but a lot of hand-waving.

I’m surprised Black got into this mess at all. One can’t prove the supernatural, yet he rushed in and tried. If he hadn’t replied to me, I would have been certain I knew his true motive. But given the reply, I can’t help but believe he’s lost his edge.

The town in which I live

I’ve gone so far as to look up the difference between a city and a town, and the Wikipedia entry for City unhelpfully states, “there is no agreement on how a city is distinguished from a town within general English language meanings.”

Would a population of 83,000 make one think of a city? Perhaps, but I don’t think I live in a city. Look at today’s front page:

Aretha Franklin performed in Lewiston, New York Tuesday and she decided to stay here in town. She went to Johnny Rockets and was told that since she ordered her meal to go, she couldn’t sit in the seats provided for those who ordered an eat-in meal. Of course it’s completely silly. The restaurant is falling all over themselves to apologize, to the point where the restaurant CEO hopped aboard a plane to come and personally take care of damage control. The employee is 15 years old and she’s been on the job for just a week, so she can probably start looking elsewhere for work.

Still, this kind of stuff happens everywhere all the time. The only reason it’s news this time is it happened to a celebrity. But here, it’s front page, above the fold news because it’s the biggest news in town!

See what I mean?

Class + humour = priceless!

The best-known story of T’s pronunciation involves the British countess and society wit Margot Asquith (1864–1945), wife of Herbert Asquith, who was Britain’s prime minister from 1908 to 1916 and who later became Earl of Oxford. Legend places this razor-minded, aging, titled lady at a 1930s dinner party that included blond American screen siren and bad girl Jean Harlow. (The connection isn’t impossible, as the Asquiths’ son was the movie director Anthony Asquith.) Jean Harlow, recognizing her, asked loudly, “Say, aren’t you Margot Asquith?”—but mispronouncing the name as ‘Mar-got.’ To which her ladyship replied, “Oh, no, dear, the T is silent, as in Harlow.”

David Sacks
Letter Perfect
2003