Libertarianism is a hot-house flower, a pure abstraction of political theory, far, far from the madding crowd of grumble and struggle. It offers sanctuary and shelter for persons of an essentially conservative bent who cannot bear to be associated with the stark, staring madness that the Republican Party has become, but nonetheless cannot stand the left. It is a home to the non-partisans, the kind of person who disdains the stupidity of partisanship, and accords themselves as special kind of integrity for refusing to choose. If partisanship is stupid, and I am not partisan, I am therefore more intelligent. Perhaps. Or perhaps you simply cannot make up your mind.
Libertarianism is never having to say you’re sorry, because nothing that happens happens because of you. You have no power, you aren’t going to get any power, and if you did, you are bound not to use any of it. It is the piety of irrelevance, the sanctity of a studied refusal to participate on any terms but your own. They gaze upon the ugly muddy tug of war that is right-left politics from a picnic blanket off to the side, munching cucumber sandwiches and congratulating themselves on their irrelevance.
And whatever mistakes are made, they did not make them, they have no power to fuck up. Nor is there ever any likelihood that they shall. Like anarchists are to the left, theirs is the purity of utter abstraction, they are not soiled by trying to appeal to the great unwashed, they disdain to debase themselves so.
Me, I like 'em! They’re cuter than a whole barrel of kittens and as harmless as cottage cheese, though not as spicy. If they were to choose, they would most likely end up pulling on the other end of the rope, so, while they are no gain to my team, they are a loss to the other team, and so much the better.
You go, guys! Keep on rockin’ in the free world.