Michael Brendan Dougherty has an uninteresting biography. Raised in the ever-less-bucolic Brewster, New York. He remained one ever-more-expensive Metro North train ride away from the land of Louis Vuitton bags, Burberry scarves, and over used Ipods. Currently, Michael serves as an Assistant Editor at The American Conservative He briefly held the title of Books Editor at the New Pantagruel. He has contributed to the Washington Monthly and served as Contributing Editor on ISI's All American Colleges. He is a regular columnist at Brainwash.
Surfeited with Dainties is an artful phrase coined by some 16th century French heretic. As much as one can gather, it seems he thought that the enjoyment of refined pleasures could imperil a man's soul by setting him to be indifferent to his spiritual condition. The "good life" may prevent a man from living a life that is good.
But wouldn't this fustian preacher feel differently if he while walking on the Upper West Side garbed in (say) shirts from Turnbull and Asser, cuffed in Dunhill's links, wrapped in bespoke Saville road suits, shod in Ferragamo, keeping time with Gucci? (The button down to be traded in the evening for a cashmere Marc Jacobs sweater). Add to this a smoky blonde woman in (from bottom to top this time) Jimmy Choo, a "modest" (no logos) Coach bag, Moschino evening dress, Anna Sui neck wrap, and hair made silk by Alterna White Truffle Private Reserve Luxury shampoo.
Add to this an endless list of other benefits non sartorial, the Central Park West apartment, the plasma screen TV, the 6.1 surround sound stereo, the library bought foot by leather bound foot from The Strand bookstore, remote controlled German coffee machine, congenial Hispanic help, home gym, home spa, home office, Sub-Zero refrigerator stocked with gourmet and organic foods (delivered), the chemically enhanced libido.
Considering only the dentistry of the 16th century (excluding the other unthinkable material conditions), thoughts would surely turn to paradise for comfort and solace.
However in an age where such earthly bliss is even thinkable, who could possibly question the political, material and cultural regime that has produced this paradise for the hardworking meritocrat? Who wouldn't submit to it, on a pyre, their superstitions, their religious scruples, ethnic particularities, ancient traditions, or (if it exists) their own soul? Isn't sacrifice of these things a rather light demand? What gainful exchange! Unburdened now in the beatific vision of a consumer lifestyle heaven.
