It's why they can't meme, among other things. Listening to the book on my commute and it struck me how much things have stayed the same. From 1973 'The Camp of the Saints' by Jean Raspail, Chapter 38 >That’s something the Left has never understood, and that’s why its contempt is so heavy with hate. When it spits on the flag, or tries to piss out the eternal flame, when it hoots at the old farts loping by in their berets, or yells “Women’s Lib!” outside the church, at an old-fashioned wedding (to cite just some basic examples), it does so in such a grim, serious manner—like such “pompous assholes,” as the Left would put it, if only it could judge. The true Right is never so grim. That’s why the Left hates its guts, the way a hangman must hate the victim who laughs and jokes on his way to the gallows. The Left is a conflagration. It devours and consumes in deadly dull earnest. (Even its revels, appearances notwithstanding, are as grisly an affair as one of those puppet parades out of Peking or Nuremberg.) > The Right is different. It’s a flickering flame, a will-o’-the-wisp in the petrified forest, flitting through the darkness … “That’s fine!” said the colonel. “Good job! Now get back to your unit. And tell the captain thanks … Oh yes, on the way