Online acquaintances at <a href=“http://www.well.com” target=”_blank”>the Well</a> are snickering over the tasteless nouveau riche design of Rush Limbaugh’s New York apartment, now <a href=“http://gawker.com/5482793/rush-limbaughs-gaudy-fifth-avenue-penthouse-is-now-for-sale/” target=”_blank”>up for auction</a>. (Rush blames his decision to sell on Paterson’s tax initiatives, but who knows when it comes to Rush’s narrative? Perhaps getting dropped lately from several stations has something to do with it…)
Smirking at anything concerning Rush says, does, or is is a popular form of entertainment on the Well, and, though the apartment is certainly not to my taste, I’m not sure it deserves the reception it’s getting. I’ve seen worse, although the <a href=”http://gawker.com/5484134/comments-of-the-day-everyone-wants-to-live-in-rush-limbaughs-house” target=”_blank”>portrait of himself</a> over the divan <i>is</i> pretty dreadful.
The only thing that stands out for me is the single, lonely bookshelf, and that filled with “books by the yard,†meant to be admired as a matched set of bindings, and not meant actually to be read. Nobody with a bookshelf like that knows anything at all about anything at all. If Thomas Aquinus is right in fearing a man of one book, how much more dreadful the man of no books at all?
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