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You're Not Going To Die If The Democrats Win The Elections

I guess I'll tell you my gripes with Crisis magazine: the whole thing sounds like a Rod Dreher fever dream. You would think that armies of drag queens were kidnapping children to take them to the infamous Story Hour, in some kind of right-wing dystopian novel that is the reverse of The Handmaid's Tale.

Come on, man.

In other news, I would like to congratulate the Democrats, on seemingly finding some semblance of an economic message. You know, I'm old enough to remember when they actually were the party of the working class; it seemed like there for a while, they were the party of debt-ridden upper-class English majors, complaining because their slice of the pie lacks cherry sauce. [Wait, aren't they still those people?--ed.] Too soon.

Anyway, I am what they used to call a "social conservative". And to be clear, I am not a social conservative for the sake of winning an election; I really believe and try to do the things that I say in this regard. Someone, however, forgot that party politics is made up of coalitions, and a fairly decent chunk of those people are just about ready to vote for a heavy dose of Normal. I suppose I salute the constancy of those running to the barricades, firmly believing that Biden's vice president is a female version of Che Guevara. In the end though, I would like to believe that nobody really believes this. I would like to think that they're just following through on the team cues, because a major sense of belonging, a certain protection against anxiety and aloneness, is wrapped up in the electoral fortunes of the GOP as currently constituted.

This is not to say that the late Henry Hyde won't be at least threatening to turn over, but personally, I don't think that the old glad-hander Joe Biden has the stomach for revolution.

As it turned out, we needed a firm hand, like a Bush or an Eisenhower, and we got an empty-headed, malevolent Wink Martindale. Camille Paglia called Trump a carnival barker. The problem is, people's lives and the social context in which they live them, are so much more important than a few hours of diversion on a lazy Saturday. These are serious times, for everyone. Petty arguments might be at least tolerable and entertaining at Thanksgiving dinner, but that ought to be beneath the president of the United States.

So goes Alexander Vindman, so goes the country. And "conservative Catholics"--whatever that's supposed to mean--will just have to deal with it.

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