I’m not entirely convinced that today’s gasp-inducing sedition memoir about the ongoing sabotage of the Trump presidency isn’t a work of fiction. It probably is real, but I wouldn’t put on a parachute that probably opens.
Though working from a perspective of likelihood, there were several rather remarkable aspects of the article, by a pristine Never-Trump cuckservative. The most obvious of these being its scintillating audacity. Here an administrative hireling summarily discards and subverts the agenda of an elected President vetted through exhaustive multi-year primary and general election campaigns, and finally validated by winning 30 states and 306 electoral votes. This because a cabal of flatulent factotums—and I quote with amazement—“knew better.” Well they certainly didn’t know better how to advance their exquisite agenda legitimately, one might mention at the next National Review cruise.
But of course every lunatic sees a saint in the mirror, and this one no less. Thus his betrayals are varnished in the finest platitudes. Reportedly, Trump is not a true conservative, a true believer in free trade, or a true advocate for war with Russia. And those are precisely the reasons he became the true President of the United States.
But none of that is really what the editorial brought into such clear and unintended relief. Buried amidst the false posturing about defending America’s “democratic institutions” he offers only one contrary conclusion: Democracy doesn’t work.
Forget the flapping tongue and simply take note of his own admitted acts of subversion. By these he is advising the public that there is no peaceful mechanism by which a nation may alter the course of its state. He is telling the American people that you can become dissatisfied and want a change in national trajectory. You can raise money, go door to door, debate and convince, you can evaluate platforms, attend rallies, vote in primaries, scream on twitter, and unfriend on Facebook. You can wait in line at your Chicago precinct along with 300 dead men and then watch the general returns until midnight nearly two years after the process began. Then you can spend the rest of the night cheering an improbable victory.
And it won’t make a fucking ant hill of difference.
Because bureaucrats buried in the deep fat of government and political ticks riding into the administration by their mandibles will simply judge your hard-won presidential selection as uncouth and substitute the policies you voted for with their own. Your input into the matter is not solicited. And this defenestration of electoral results will be done for the sake of democracy, you see.
When the top finally blows on this nation-turned-petri-dish, a former White House hack will blink dumbly in the rubble and wonder: Who needs my help next?