—————————[Music clip: From Haydn's Derbyshire Marches, organ version]
01 — Intro. [Me in tux and black tie, seated in front of a neat office background.]
Good day, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the very first broadcast of Derb TV. This is John Derbyshire and today I'll be bringing you … Er, hold on a minute …
[I fiddle with my earpiece.] … Yes, Kathryn? … Oh, this is supposed to be the fundraiser? … Oh, sorry … Yeah, I'm on it … Okay, thanks.
[I address the camera.] Just excuse me a minute, ladies and gentlemen. [I remove my earpiece, get up out of chair, go offscreen.]
|02 — Fundraiser. [Me, unkept in ragged undershirt. Background is
some tacky-looking boards held together with duct tape.]
Good day, ladies and gentlemen. We here at National Review are just as keen as you are on the cut and thrust of raw capitalist competition. May the man who can make a better mousetrap win the game, and may the Devil take the hindmost.
In magazine publishing, however, we're at a disadvantage. We're controversial. We take sides. Magazines depend on advertising revenue, and advertisers don't like people who take sides — people who are controversial. They're afraid it might alienate some part of their customer base.
We don't even have a rich godfather … [I casually pass a copy of The Weekly Standard across the lower part of the screen] … like some political magazines I could name.
So from time to time we ask you to help us out with funds so we can keep on doing what we do. Think of it as akin to the old relationship between the aristocratic patron and the struggling artist in his garret [pointing over my shoulder to the tacky boards behind me]; except that in this nation of the Common Man, you are the aristocrats.
[Loud knocking sound.] Hark! — someone at the door. That must be the bailiff, come to repossess our furniture.
Please help us in any way you can. I thank you; National Review thanks you; and [I lift up my daughter's pet hamster in his cage] Hilbert thanks you.
[Music clip: More Derbyshire Marches.]