Ten charts here on why the South is the worst place to live.
It reminds me of the old joke about Texas. God created Texas last. He didn't initially know what he was going to do, because he'd already used up everything nice making all the other places in the world. He was really stumped for quite a few centuries. But then he finally came up with the novel solultion of creating Texans, who are people who actually like it there.
This is how one does satire. Consider Kotsko's conclusion:
We continually remind ourselves that radical new schools of thought always face opposition. What if Plato, Kant, and someone you’ve never heard of whom I’m putting forth as a self-evident part of the philosophical canon just gave up the first time someone asked them what they were talking about? And really, are we even properly a “school” at all? Isn’t Contemporaneanism more of a sensibility, a shared set of concerns, than a “movement” — at least a “movement” in the sense that we could be held responsible for some determinate positions and arguments? What’s striking to me is the radical diversity of Contemporaneanism. And you know what? It’s not my job to point out examples of the many people who adhere to Contemporaneanism (in such a way that it doesn’t constitute a determinate “movement” that can be criticized). If you don’t keep up with the most important and exciting developments in your field, that’s on you.
God. Can’t someone start a philosophical movement without having to constantly argue with people?!
Great satire works on some level whether you or not you get the references. I think this succeeds on both counts, as it also satirizes broader internet tendencies.
I can't say I'm that familiar with (or sympathetic to) contemporary neo-Contemporaneanism, but long time readers of this blog know that I have long been a champion of certain strands of old school Contemporaneanism. If this wasn't such a wonderful satire, I'd hate just how comfortable is this shoe he's crafted for me and mine.