A Surfeit of Honey, by Russell Lynes
We adore self-appointed scolds who tell us what shallow characters we are. Here is Mr. Lynes casting us as History’s Spoiled Children. We have it too good, he says. Luxury is sapping our moral fiber. The spirit that made us Great is gone from the land. America is Great, but Americans? Spineless mediocrities who prefer to avoid ulcers rather than bareknuckle their way up to Chairman of the Board. We would rather keep “our noses to the rhinestones” than dig for diamonds. Mr. Lynes’s is an ancestral voice prophesying doom. The shadow of declining Rome darkens the windshield of the 1957 Cadillac.
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