You know Glenn Beck? Turns out we’ve got one of those on this side of the ocean, too.
Yes, it’s probably worth whatever reaction of dread you just gave it. If you’re not familiar with why his name should be making you want to vomit in someone else’s mouth, here’s a quick primer. Everything in that article is completely accurate. Except the parts they’ve toned down to go easy on him.
The book isn’t a new release, as I mistakenly thought at first, actually having been published in 2001. But the comparisons with Beck and his own novel are striking. The giddy paranoia, the delusional hysteria over some completely imagined nightmare, the non-existent evils supposed to be driving a country to its doom unless the day can be saved by the fanatically right-wing protagonist… Having just read that review on Cracked a couple of days ago, it all sounded eerily familiar.
I’m not going to retread the ground too much, because the Five Chinese Crackers blog really has done an excellent job of summing up everything wrong with To Hell In A Handcart – and it’s a long list. Perhaps most noticeable is how transparent a diatribe it is. There are countless extracts quoted in this breakdown which don’t belong to any well-rounded fictional character or engaging narrative prose; it’s just Littlejohn banging on about how awful it is having to live on the same planet as gays and foreigners, exactly like he does in his column, but with the words “said Mickey” following it every few sentences or so.
One character directly channels Littlejohn’s own prejudices as he laments that you only have to “raise the question” – the exact question isn’t specified, but it’s something about whether all immigrants aren’t thieving scum – to be “shouted down as some kind of racist”.
Do some background reading on Richard Littlejohn. Look at the way gypsies, Romanians, “spades” (apparently a slur on black people), and even “swarthy, olive-skinned” people are portrayed in the book he wrote. And you’ll see he’s right. It’s really incredible.
All you have to do is stereotype all members of a race as deplorable criminals, perpetuate bullshit about liberal lefties falling over themselves to serve up every privilege imaginable to those dirty foreigners on a platter, and try and dodge accusations of prejudice by pulling one of the most pathetic “some of my best friends are ethnic” routines I’ve ever seen… and somehow people will get the idea that you’re a horrible, horrible racist.
It’s clear, too, that whatever hardship and discrimination non-whites have had to face throughout the years is far less important than the indignity we Aryan folk have had to suffer by occasionally having racism pointed out to us. In one scene of the book, one of the lefty liberal strawmen in charge of anti-racism in the police force apparently has a room full of people repeatedly chanting “I AM A RACIST!” – because in Littlejohn’s mind, this is an insightful satire that cleverly undermines everything those liberal softies are trying to do. With all their “sensitivity” and “awareness” bullshit.
Apparently he genuinely sees no difference between learning to be watchful for any unconscious expressions of privilege that might occasionally leak out into your actions or words, and mindlessly shouting “I AM A RACIST I AM A RACIST”. Is Richard Littlejohn actually that stupid? I submit that yes, he is, and he also just doesn’t give a shit.
So if you couldn’t already think of enough reasons off the top of your head to really, thoroughly dislike Richard Littlejohn – and even if you could – the series of posts up at Five Chinese Crackers dissecting this dreadful, dreadful book are well worth a read. I’m not going to get started on the whole blogs vs. newspapers debate anytime soon, but if those posts don’t count as journalism but this bullshit does just because its distribution involved ink, then the word “journalism” has long since stopped being of any use in its current state.