Why I Quit Politics

Fear & Loathing in West Palm Beach

Fear & Loathing in West Palm Beach

“Some of the scenes in this book will not make much sense to anybody except the people who were involved in them. Politics has its own language, which is often so complex that it borders on being a code, and the main trick in political journalism is learning how to translate — to make sense of the partisan bullshit that even your friends will lay on you — without crippling your access to the kind of information that allows you to keep functioning.”

— Hunter S. Thompson,

Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72 (author’s note)

PROLOGUE: MAGA MANIA

I began writing this in December 2019. That’s when the events of this story occurred. I attended a massive political conference in West Palm Beach for my job.

Upon the suggestion from a close confidant, I resolved to keep notes throughout the week. I didn’t know what to expect in West Palm Beach, but I knew it would be worth documenting. I was still new to creative writing, but I was fully inspired, having just read Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72 by Hunter S. Thompson.

This manuscript is years in the making. Partially because it’s difficult to talk about my tenure in politics without flying into a manic rage. As stated above, this manuscript began in December 2019. Now it’s February 2024. Much has changed in both my personal life and the political landscape. For example, the 2020 election had not yet taken place. And in hindsight, some references are probably dated (due to the fast-changing news environment).

The nonfiction sections of this story are from my undergraduate research. I spent several semesters researching under the tutelage of my poli sci/econ professor. These nonfiction sections are just as — if not more — important than the story itself.

My research focused on the Republican Party. I began researching during the 2016 Republican Primary, when I noticed some trends among Republican voters. The GOP (“Grand Old Party”) was evolving before our very eyes. I spent years observing this evolution and wrote several research papers on conservatism, populism, and the Republican Party (I even presented my research at my university’s annual research symposium). My undergraduate research, combined with my professional experience in politics, has culminated in this comprehensive work.

Overnight, Trump changed the landscape of the Republican Party and American politics forever. Trump wasn’t your standard “Conservative, Inc.” candidate. He clearly wasn’t grown in a test tube in the creepy basement of the Heritage Foundation (Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, etc.). Trump was even different from the “moderate” Republicans (Jeb! Bush, John Kasich, etc.). Trump was something new — something that transcended mainstream conservatism. I predicated Trump would break the system, shattering the (false) dichotomy of “left” vs. “right.”

Ever since Ronald Reagan, the Republican Party has been defined by “Fusionism” — the unholy alliance of libertarian fiscal conservatism and traditionalist social conservatism. It’s unclear what these groups have in common — the only thing they can agree on is their hatred of liberals. Combining the two drains the libertarianism out of libertarianism and the traditionalism out of traditionalism. It’s said that the GOP is a “big tent” party, which is fine, but it results in incoherence. What’s the unifying message? According to the Republican “establishment,” that message is fiscal conservatism. But the Republican establishment emphasizes fiscal conservatism to the detriment of social conservatism. Republicans talk lots of game about the “Culture War,” but ultimately, fiscal conservatism is their priority. Social issues are just an act to get voters riled up for elections.

The fear and loathing I experienced in West Palm Beach warped my view of politics. Political news repulses me now, makes me sick to my stomach. During Trump’s Presidency, everything became so saturated with politics that it began to feel sleazy. Politics had somehow become low brow — everything felt like it belonged in the tabloids. Something about it was just yucky. It’s not even interesting anymore.

It might seem like I grew to despise Trump, but this isn’t true. However, his Presidency left much to be desired. There were countless missed opportunities.

I used to love politics. Not anymore.

I tried to make a career in politics, but I couldn’t stomach it. There are long hours, and the pay is pitiful (except for those at the top). I quit cold turkey. I retired from politics at the ripe age of twenty-five. Campaign politics is a young man’s game partly because there are no job benefits (which means no health insurance — the reason why so many politicos are fresh out of college). I had to escape the matrix before I turned twenty-six and got kicked off my parents’ health insurance plan. Another reason many politicos are young is because they’re still naïve enough to go along with all the bullshit (and therefore easier to exploit). There’s one Conservative, Inc. organization who makes it an open practice to relocate staffers, cutting them off from family/social commitments. That’s cult-like behavior.

I couldn’t take it anymore. For all the reasons I was attracted to politics in the first place, I had an equal number of reasons for quitting.

This is the story of why I quit politics.

1. FEAR & LOATHING IN WEST PALM BEACH

The 2016 election marked the dawn of a dark time in my life. That was the year politics exploded.

I was an ambitious young man thrust into the depraved, cynical world of professional politicos. It was a paranoid time in my life. I was alienated from everyone and everything. My existence revolved around drugs, and my drug of choice was the sweetest narcotic of them all: politics. Next in line was cocaine. I was chain-smoking too. Heavy drinking. Junk food. No sleep. I was torturing myself with vices. What can I say — life is rough on the campaign trail.

Despite my ambitions, my enthusiasm fizzled out before Trump left office. In retrospect, the whole thing feels like a bizarre fever dream. The only thing I have left to show for it all is a long list of what-ifs.

December 2019 — Election Day loomed on the horizon.

I was traveling on business to West Palm Beach, Florida. The organization I worked for was hosting a massive political action conference. I was a grassroots organizer. My job entailed inviting student activists to attend the conference. The week ahead would be spent in Florida setting up the conference, which would take place at the end of the week.

Cut to the airport bar. I was sipping on whiskey, waiting to board, when my coworker, Seth, appeared in the barstool next to me. Seth appeared drunk even though it was still morning. But he was a good guy. Seth was one of the few friends I had among my coworkers.

Although we worked together, Seth was under another department which bankrolled student government elections across the country. In one instance at a major state university, they infamously violated university rules and FEC campaign finance laws. Seth’s job was identifying young conservative sociopaths/stooges and convincing them to run for student government. The idea was to gain control of universities by gaining control of their student governments (how well is that working out for them?).

“Hey, hey! How you been, my guy?” asked Seth. I could smell bourbon on his breath.

I looked back to the bar and asked, “Excuse me, can you make that two Jack and Coke doubles?”

We caught up with each other, drinking while we waited to board. This was my first meeting with Seth since the last wretched conference we attended three weeks earlier. We realized we were on the same flight, seated beside each other, and we also shared a connecting flight in Washington, D.C. (AKA the “Swamp”).

Although I hate flying, there was some good in it: Seth and I were unexpectedly upgraded to first-class due to vague reasons. We departed late with the risk of missing our connector flight and being stranded in the Swamp. We landed at precisely the right moment. Seth and I rushed off the plane, ran across the terminal, and boarded with the last seating group. Any later and we would’ve been stranded. Ironically enough, the next plane sat on the runway in the rain for half an hour before takeoff.

Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes…

Clouds swallowed up the plane — outside was nothing but static, white void. I leaned back in my seat. I tried to slow my heart rate down to a soft murmur. The dull droning of the flight cabin was drained out by my earbuds (listening to ELO’s Out of the Blue). Ginger ale and whiskey to wash down the pills. Now for the homestretch.

Next stop: West Palm Beach, Florida.

Survival stories are hard to come by in this line of work. The grandiose allure of politics attracts specific types of people (the wrong ones). Fortunately, most of the decent people I met along the way are, like myself, off to greener pastures. But many remain trapped in that psychotic lifestyle — toiling away on campaign after campaign, hoping to someday earn a fancy title like “Political Director” or “Fundraising Strategist.” And for what? I could ramble on and on about how politics isn’t a “real” job. I digress.

What is there to say about politics that hasn’t already been said, parroted by TV talking heads, put through the spin zone, and beaten to death?

This story is about my journey into the dark heart of American politics. It was a wild ride. I barely lived to tell the tale. Politics chewed me up and spat me out. I dared to gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazed back.

I’ve procrastinated telling this story for too long. No amount of writing could ever do it justice. I’ve been avoiding the hollow sense of finality that comes with finishing a manuscript. It feels like you’re holding the manuscript in your hands — you’ve got it safe there, your precious baby isn’t going anywhere — until, suddenly, a gust of wind carries the pages away to the heavens.

2. “CONSERVATIVE, INC.”

Things made sense during the 2016 election. These were simpler times. I was a staffer for Donald Trump’s Presidential campaign. In addition to this role, I also led my local Young Republicans club.

What attracted me to politics in the first place? I’m not sure. I’m an athlete, maybe it’s the competitive nature of elections. My interest in politics emerged during the 2008 election, when I was only thirteen or fourteen years old. By age eighteen, I knew I wanted to study political science in college.

Prior to joining the Trump campaign, I had attended two Trump rallies. Both events drew huge crowds. I almost didn’t attend the first rally because I was sick with mononucleosis and could hardly breathe — but I couldn’t stay away. I waited an hour just to get inside. While waiting in line, I bought my first “Make America Great Again” hat, although it was a knockoff (at a later rally I acquired two official “MAGA” hats). Afterward, the local news interviewed me on camera, asking about the rally. The second rally was particularly cool. It was in an aircraft hangar, the bay doors were open, exposing the runway outside. A jumbo jet bearing the name “TRUMP” came down from the heavens and landed right there on the runway fifty yards away. Trump exited and delivered his speech, then boarded the jet and departed for his next campaign stop, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived.

My professional experience in politics began in 2013. I was fresh out of high school and working for in the Statehouse (I worked there all through college). Despite the banality of it, interning gave me the experience of daily life in a government office. I acclimated myself to the political landscape and got a sense for what awaited me after graduation. I learned the unspoken rules and conventions of state government and made valuable connections with state legislators and lobbyists along the way. It was a fun job.

Before graduating from college, I was the chairman of two student organizations: Students for Trump and College Republicans.

As leader of the student coalition on campus, I was responsible for promoting Trump. To do this, I distributed promotional materials, such as shirts, buttons, stickers, signs, etc. These promo materials were crucial for enticing students to volunteer in door-to-door canvassing efforts. Door-to-door canvassing and phone banks are the basic building block of politics — everything always comes back to voter outreach. I came to dread the absurd amount of promo materials mailed to me week after week. The boxes showed up outside my house — stacks of bulk packages piled up high, dominating the entire porch, barricading the door with clutter.

My fellow students were enamored with the promo materials. There weren’t enough Trump shirts and signs to go around. I stole a roll of Trump stickers from the campaign and sold them for a dollar apiece — people were begging for these stickers (I still have Trump stickers). At the time, I thought this should be surprising to our opponents, since there was a high volume of misinformation about Trump’s popularity with the youth. I never could’ve foreseen how rapidly the “campus conservative” archetype would become a trite cliché.

Critics of Trump’s campaign would again be surprised to learn that our chapter of College Republicans, who unanimously voted to endorse Trump, was mostly comprised of women. In fact, there was overwhelming support from young, conservative women. Once again — I never could’ve foreseen how rapidly the “conservative woman” archetype would become a cliché.

Another duty I had was inviting students to political events. This was one of the most rewarding aspects of my involvement with the campaign. One of these events was the “millennial roll-out.” The campaign bused in hundreds of college students from all over the state to see the Man Himself. My fellow students and I waited several hours for Trump. Meanwhile, campaign staffers tossed out campaign gear and played loud dance music. The whole room was pumped up, high on atavistic energy.

When the polls closed on Election Day, I went with some fellow politicos to the GOP’s election night party, then to the Campaign Team’s party (but we ended the night at the casino and didn’t leave until 4:20 AM after finishing off an eight-ball). I stayed awake all night. I was too excited to sleep. Throughout the night, I closely followed every beat of the election until the final winner was declared. The campaign had become such a crucial part of my life that I felt emotionally invested in the results — like I had a personal stake in the outcome (who knows, maybe this was true). I was ecstatic when he won.

Working on the Trump campaign, I learned about Presidential elections and gained skills and experience. Along the way I got to meet prominent figures, such as Donald Trump Jr., Lara Trump, and Rudy Giuliani. Overall, interning for Trump’s campaign was an incredible experience that prepared me for a career in politics.

That was just the beginning of this whole mess.

“Conservative, Inc.” — the intricate network of well-funded special interest groups, think tanks, 501c(3) or 501c(4) advocacy/action committees (“super PACs”), student organizations, political consulting firms, and lobbyists which comprise the intelligentsia/professional activist class of the Republican Party “establishment.” Democrats have intelligentsia/activist networks of their own, who similarly care little about the issues. Due to Citizen’s United, these groups are free to run amok. The infamous Koch Brothers bankroll many of these Conservative, Inc. organizations. Many claim to be “nonpartisan” for the sake of tax-exempt status, and while that’s technically true, it’s bullshit. These organizations do a whole lot of nothing. They pay lip service to conservatism, but all they really care about is (1) self-preservation (i.e., fundraising); and (2) appeasing donors. Notable examples include:

· Special Interest Groups: Americans for Prosperity, the National Rifle Association (NRA), the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the Club for Growth, and the Republican Jewish Coalition.

· Political Action Committees: the National Republican Congressional Committee (NRCC), the National Republican Senatorial Committee (NRSC), the Congressional Leadership Fund (CLF), and the Faith and Freedom Coalition.

· Think Tanks: the Heritage Foundation, the Cato Institute, and the American Enterprise Institute (AEI).

· Student Organizations: the Federalist Society, College Republicans, Young Republicans, Turning Point USA (TPUSA), Young Americans for Liberty (YAL), the Leadership Institute (LI), Young America’s Foundation (YAF), and Students for Life.

3. WEST PALM BEACH IS DECADENT & DEPRAVED

When we arrived in West Palm Beach, the warm, subtropical air was suffocating — the only reprieve was the humid breeze. The southern ozone was foreign to my lungs.

West Palm Beach is nestled around an inlet bay of the Atlantic Ocean on Florida’s Mideastern coast. The metro area along the bay is surrounded by bogs, marshes, quagmires, and quicksand. It’s like the treacherous landscape is this place’s way of deterring unwanted visitors. Beyond the horizon is a vast expanse of murky lakes and a network of manmade ponds and canals.

Across the bay from West Palm Beach is the upscale community of Palm Beach (home of Mar-a-Lago and Jeffrey Epstein). The two communities are very segregated, and there’s a massive socioeconomic chasm between them.

In sum — Florida feels like a foreign country.

Looking at its construction, there’s an eclectic mix of Spanish architecture and Art Deco design comprising much of the city. This stylistic blend produces a unique visual. The commercial and civic buildings in the city’s downtown are gaudy pastel colors (green, purple, yellow, orange, etc.), evoking a retro, Miami Vice aesthetic. I instinctively equate this aesthetic to the campy sensibilities of the great state of Florida.

The whole scene was oozing with primordial ambience. Juxtaposed against the gilding and stucco was the primeval flora and fauna. Spanish moss clung to anything its roots could reach. Lush palm fronds and ferns grew out of any crevice that could sustain life. Serpents, geckos, or gators could be lurking around any corner. Even the birds here are weird somehow.

In between all the hotels, Publix, and nightclubs, there was so much green space. Sturdy concrete overpasses sprouted from these patches of contained rainforest, looming tall above the murky landscape like dark towers. All manmade structures appeared to be coated in a thin film of varying green hues, like a divine plague of parasitic moss. These were the lonely ruins of an antebellum Garden of Eden.

Why is Florida abundant with high strangeness?

My hotel was outside the city on a busy road called Australia Avenue (a name which added to the prehistoric atmosphere). I felt constant unease over the possibility that an otherworldly, amphibious beastie could skulk out of the jungle and pounce on me if I made the mistake of letting my guard down. Florida is the national lost world, and this was my Journey to the Center of America.

After checking in to my hotel, I swept the room for discreet wiretaps. I didn’t find any, but I wasn’t so sure…

I ate marijuana edibles and went for a brief swim in the (dirty) hotel pool. Then I spent time alone watching TV, but I got bored and decided to go for a walk to buy wine and examine my new surroundings. As I was walking back to the hotel in this exotic city, I noticed the complete absence of streetlights. This observation made me question my safety after sunset.

I was a stranger in a strange land. These were gator-people. One slip-up could result in disaster. This very instant, I could be scooped up off the street by a barrio boy named “Manny” and hacked into beef jerky with a machete in the back of a white van. Or I could accidentally offend a boisterous gang of Cuban cocaine-cowboys and end up blown to smithereens, any remnants of my former face spewed across the wall of some sleazy Latin bar. Or something like that.

Considering the options, the worst possibility would be crossing paths with the wrong type of swamp crackers. I could see it now: a family of rare genetic specimens feeding the last of my mangled body to the mutant sewer gators living inside the trailer-park outhouse — my hapless screams drowned out under their furious, twangy banjo plucking as they dance over my imminent watery grave, singing rebel yell.

Palm fronds look ominous in the dark.

4. IDENTITY POLITICS AND THE GROWING CULTURAL RIFT IN AMERICA

i. Introduction.

Identity politics, combined with cultural differences, is creating a vast divide between rural and urban America.

The demographic change among the electorate has consequences for how political campaigns are run. Growing partisanship coupled with ideological radicalization of the parties is the result of a geographic and cultural schism in American society. This essay revisits the 2016 Presidential election, dissecting the underlying “culture war” to understand Hillary’s defeat.

ii. Culture War 2016.

The 2016 election saw the first Presidential nomination of a woman for a major political party in the United States, reaching a historic landmark for liberals who waited all their lives to see this moment. Meanwhile, the Republican Party nominated the most controversial candidate in modern history. The result was a brutal cage-match between the personification of feminism and the embodiment of “toxic” masculinity. Underneath the apparent spectacle, a larger metapolitical culture war was fought behind the scenes.

America was shocked when Hillary’s assumed grand slam turned into a victory for the underdog. But an analysis of the underlying culture war proves that Trump’s victory was never as outlandish as the media portrayed.

iii. The Hubris of Hillary Clinton.

Hillary Clinton’s campaign made the fatal mistake of imitating Obama’s campaign. Her campaign attempted to co-opt Obama’s winning techniques. However, the same tactics that gave Obama authenticity came off as forced and disingenuous when employed by Hillary. Obama’s campaign energized millions of people to vote for the first Black President, but Hillary’s team couldn’t generate the same enthusiasm for the first female President. According to exit polls, she underperformed across the board with important Democratic voting blocs, including women. Obama’s “coalition of the ascendant” — wealthy/educated Whites, young people, women, and minorities — was not universally transferable to any Democratic candidate. Who would’ve known that abandoning White working-class voters would have political consequences?

Meanwhile, Trump took a gamble, pursuing rural, uneducated White voters. His strategy seemed preposterous — the Republican National Committee had just conducted an “autopsy” after the 2012 election and concluded that they must appeal to women, young people, and minorities. Although, considering the big picture, Trump’s strategy makes perfect mathematical sense — most people in the country don’t have a college degree and most people in the country are White. Trump just needed to mobilize these voters on Election Day — some of whom hadn’t voted in decades (if ever).

These disengaged White voters are what Richard Nixon referred to as the “Silent Majority.” The word majority is right there in the name. All Republicans must do is drive White America out to the polls. Data shows whichever party wins the White working-class wins the Presidency, and Republicans in particular win when more Whites turn out to vote.

If 2016 taught Republicans anything, it should be that — whether they like it or not — Whites are crucial to their electoral strategy.

iv. Messaging is Key.

Pundits and journalists alike concluded that the outcome of the 2016 election meant the electorate was sexist against Hillary Clinton. That’s the only reason she could have lost. Shockingly, the mad pussy-grabber performed about the same as Mitt Romney did with women, and even beat Clinton among White women. What Clinton gained in support from women, she lost with men. White men soundly rejected Hillary, with only 31% of them casting their ballots for her. From this data, it can be inferred that while Trump didn’t necessarily appeal to women voters, something about Hillary Clinton was particularly unappealing to men.

Hillary made severe missteps in her messaging. For example, her slogan “I’m With Her” was intended to emphasize her potential as the first woman President, but the slogan unintentionally came off as self-centered. Trump called her out for this and introduced his own spin on the phrase: “I’m With You,” which contrasts the subtle selfishness of Hillary’s campaign. Even low-information voters could infer that this campaign was just another chapter in the long story of Hillary’s ruthless pursuit of power.

There was no rationale behind Hillary’s campaign. An important part of any political campaign is answering the question: “Why are you running for office?” Hillary’s failure to answer this basic question resulted in a multitude of problems, most significantly the failure to mobilize voters. This was obvious on election day when disaffected liberals (Bernie Sanders loyalists and Clinton-haters) stayed home or defected to third-party candidates. This conclusion could be drawn: the liberal base wasn’t enthusiastic for Hillary like they were for Bernie Sanders or Barack Obama. She just sucks.

Another demographic Hillary underperformed with was young voters. Throughout her campaign, she encountered difficulty attracting young voters, who overwhelmingly flocked to the idealistic Bernie Sanders. After Bernie dropped out and endorsed Hillary, a stubborn faction of his supporters refused to fall in line, opting to not vote, vote third-party, or even vote Trump. Studies estimate anywhere from 5% to 20% of Bernie voters defected for Trump — which should come as no surprise since Trump and Sanders are merely two different sides to the same populist coin. Even Trump was able to make inroads with young voters, winning the White millennial vote. In their efforts to rally the youth vote (“POKÉMON GO TO THE POLLS”), the Clinton campaign failed to appeal to the idealism of the socialist utopia promised by Sanders. Hillary’s team tried to mirror Obama’s campaign strategy, and in doing so they fixated on data analytics to their own detriment.

v. Narrow vs. Broad Appeal.

Another central problem of the Clinton campaign was her attempt to mimic Obama’s strategy without taking into context any of the differences between their campaigns — such as the fact that Obama had a dependable “coalition of the ascendant” on his side. This coalition included young people, minorities, and wealthy/educated Whites — all groups that Hillary underperformed with compared to Obama. Hillary found out the hard way that this coalition was unique to Obama.

The centerpiece of Obama’s campaign was data analytics. Hillary’s campaign fixated on data to their own detriment. By trying to appeal to too many demographics, her message suffered, diluted to the point of disingenuousness by micro-targeting overkill. Instead of a broad, powerful message like Obama or Trump, Hillary’s campaign was a bland, eclectic heap of cringe, Spanish tweets, celebrity endorsements, melodramatic attacks, and policies mired in wonkish detail.

How important is a political slogan in the grand scheme of things? As corny as they are, never underestimate the power of a good political slogan, which should be neither self-centered nor narrow. Hillary’s “I’m With Her” slogan didn’t even mean anything. Voters were unsure what being “with her” entailed exactly. It offers no vision of her goals or policies. Obama’s message? Hope and Change. Trump’s message? Make America Great Again. Hillary’s message? I’m With Her…? With her for what??? I don’t want to go anywhere with her!

vi. A Cultural Rift in America.

Trump overwhelmingly won White voters of all walks of life. He even outperformed Mitt Romney with Blacks and Hispanics. Meanwhile, Hillary won the non-White vote, which may have given her more total votes, but an electoral strategy based on sheer numbers rather than electoral college victory is like thinking you win at chess by capturing the most pieces. Democrats are transforming from a workers’ party into a party of the diverse, educated/wealthy, cosmopolitan class. Republicans have a chance to fill the void left behind.

Due to the electoral college, Hillary needed support from the White working class of the Rust Belt, a region she neglected during the campaign. Looking at the breakdown of the electoral map by county, geography was a near-perfect indicator of candidate support: urban voters voted for Hillary, and rural voters voted for Trump. This geographic split is indicative of the growing cultural rift in America.

As urban centers become more multicultural, White flight increases. The result is suburbs grow beyond capacity, and White America is pushed further away from urban centers, spread out in exurban/semi-rural communities. Meanwhile, the Republican Party attracts those who reject this multicultural ethos. Lines are being drawn between Middle America and the coastal urban centers, whose values and interests are diametrically opposed. The polarization worsens with each passing election cycle.

Hillary neglected Democratic voters who couldn’t connect with her message (or lack thereof). A map of the voting results for northwestern Pennsylvania illustrates the consequences. This region is overwhelmingly rural, uneducated, and White. In 2008, the counties in northwestern Pennsylvania voted for Obama — disaffected with neoconservatives and hopeful of “change.” But in 2016 Trump flipped the state solid red.

A similar phenomenon can be observed in the adjacent region of northeastern Ohio (nowhere is the downfall of American manufacturing more apparent than rural Ohio), where working class Whites voted for Obama in droves; then in 2016, they switched their vote to Trump. Are these downtrodden White workers — who voted for the first Black President — the “racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamophobic” deplorables Hillary was referring to?

Here’s some advice: don’t insult the voters.

vii. Conclusion.

The country is severely divided. Middle America is under attack by the urban elite. Urbanites live in an ever-increasing bubble sheltered from a large swatch of the country. Worse yet, it’s not just a bubble — it’s an echo-chamber. Instead of finding common ground, their prejudice is further reinforced by their sheltered ecosystem of privileged elite. Anyone who disagrees with the status quo is ridiculed as an archaic relic of the past.

An unintended consequence of identity politics is that the White working-class has been left behind while minorities are pandered to (without helping them in any meaningful way). Instead of exploring solutions for rural America, Democrats have attacked or ignored the American workers who used to be the bedrock of their coalition. Things as fundamental to the “traditional” American spirit as gun ownership, going to church, or working in a coal mine are ridiculed as backwards or “deplorable” by Democrats like Obama and Hillary. Working-class Whites have now become the enemy.

Trump’s 2016 victory was due to the fatigue felt by voters in flyover states over the condescending attitude of the educated, wealthy, urbanite class. Trump’s appeals to White America indicate the desire among Whites for a President who won’t shun them for “clinging to guns and religion,” as Obama infamously said. White communities are falling apart, and the elites are turning a blind eye.

Trump is just the beginning. America can expect continued backlash from frustrated White voters. Liberals will soon find out they can’t sweep working-class Whites under the rug.

5. WHITE AMERICA STRIKES BACK

i. Introduction.

It was easy for the media to dismiss Trump’s popularity among White voters as “racism” rather than addressing his tangible benefits to them. CNN’s Van Jones even went as far as to call Trump’s victory a “WHITELASH” from White America in response to the last eight years under a Black President. But this so-called WHITELASH can be attributed to a specific voting bloc once known as “Reagan Democrats.” These voters are blue-collar Whites, previously loyal to Democrats (due to their association with labor unions, as well as their long-lasting support for FDR’s New Deal). When Ronald Reagan ran for President, these voters switched from Democrat to Republican, helping Reagan win massive victories in 1980 and 1984.

These voters are still around. They’re concentrated along the Great Lakes in the “Rust Belt,” but also occupy the vast space of the Great Plains. This is important because this includes several swing states. In a post-election analysis, Nate Silver noted that, “by far Trump’s strongest demographic group, were disproportionately concentrated in swing states,” giving him an electoral advantage over Hillary Clinton.

These are the regions hit hardest by de-industrialization. Areas like Appalachia suffer extreme destitution, where the poverty rate is 19.7%, compared to 15.6% nationwide (it should be noted that Appalachia is 98.5% White). Trump himself summarized the frustrations of these voters:

“For too long, Americans have been forced to accept trade deals that put the interests of insiders and the Washington elite over the hard-working men and women of this country. As a result, blue-collar towns and cities have watched their factories close and good-paying jobs move overseas, while Americans face a mounting trade deficit and a devastated manufacturing base.”

Trump targeted these states, specifically the swing counties. It’s worth noting that Trump won Ohio — commonly regarded as the “bellwether state” — where he took a whopping thirty counties by over 70% of the vote. He continued his plunder of the Rust Belt with wins in Indiana, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. By flipping the Midwest red, Trump had remade the Republican Party as we know it. This came as no surprise to Trump himself, who said to Bloomberg News in 2016: “Five, ten years from now — different party. You’re going to have a worker’s party. A party of people that haven’t had a real wage increase in 18 years, that are angry.”

ii. The Billionaire Populist.

Despite the hype surrounding Obama’s “coalition of the ascendant,” the voters responsible for pushing him to victory lived in predominantly White counties. According to analysis by Dan Balz of the Washington Post, “Of the nearly 700 counties that twice sent Obama to the White House, a stunning one-third flipped to support Trump.” He also won 194 out of the 207 counties that voted for Obama only once. In a Washington Post article, Balz draws upon the research of Henry Olsen, a fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. Olsen believes the failure by GOP leadership to address the concern of the White working-class was a catalyst for Trump. Olsen writes:

“[T]hey’ve been ignoring the economic pressures that have been placed on the native born, low-skilled person for the last 15–20 years… Trump walks into this and says, ‘I’m an American first, I’m a conservative second… We need to give the people who have been shafted for the last 15 years a leg up.’”

Electoral analysis supports these conclusions. According to data from FiveThirtyEight, the most reliable predictor of how a district would vote was White socioeconomic status. They graphed voters on the axes of socioeconomic status and partisanship. The four quadrants of FiveThirtyEight’s graph are as follows: high-status/blue, high-status/red, low-status/blue, and low-status/red. Trump dominates his Republican competitors in each of these quadrants except for high-status/blue counties, which tended to favor John Kasich or Marco Rubio. Moreover, high-status/red counties displayed strong support for Ted Cruz and Rubio, but Trump still outperformed them. The counties where Trump performed best were low-status/blue, followed by low-status/red counties. Thus, it can be concluded that areas where Whites suffer low socioeconomic status are hotbeds of Trump support, regardless of that area’s demonstrated partisanship.

In 2016, Pew Research Center examined working-class Whites and their support for populism in both parties. Working-class Whites have comprised most of both parties since at least 1992 — when they comprised 67% of Republican voters. But as the country became more educated, their numbers declined to 58% in 2015.

Trump’s dominance over Ted Cruz can be credited to this low-education majority, but the decrease is also indicative of the country’s changing racial demographics. In 1992, Whites made up 84% of the population, compared to 72% in 2015. This should be alarming for Republicans, who have always relied on consistent support from White voters and will continue to rely on them in the foreseeable future.

Along with low-income, another data point proven to be a reliable indicator for Trump support was lower education. Nearly half of White voters with a high school diploma or less supported Trump, as opposed to only 34% of college graduates and 27% of postgraduate degree holders.

The breakdown of data offers further evidence of White male strife, noting that the percent change from 1992 to 2013 in average earnings for White men twenty-five years old or older has increased 19% for college graduates and decreased 3% for those without a college degree. Educated Whites aren’t struggling to get ahead, working-class Whites have not had the same fortune.

iii. Out of Touch Elites.

In March 2016, Kevin Williamson of the National Review wrote an article directing the establishment’s frustration with Trump at the American people voting for him. The article acknowledges a socioeconomic trend within the electorate that pollsters began noticing as more states cast their votes: Trump has massive support among working-class Whites and low-education voters. Those two factors have proven to be reliable indicators for support for Trump, with education level being the most reliable. Looking down from their ivory tower, National Review quickly concluded that this meant Trump’s voters are unintelligent and low brow.

In another article published during the 2016 election, Kevin Williamson criticizes these Americans for staying in their declining cities. He suggests they should “get out of the ghetto or the barrio, get an education, get a job, and start a new life and a new family in some more prosperous corner of the county or country.” If escaping these conditions were that easy, these people would’ve done it already, genius. However, the ones with enough agency, skill, or luck can escape, as Williamson wrote in a 2014 article (which lacked the condescension of his later articles). But breaking free from the cycle of poverty is easier said than done. For starters, many of them can’t afford housing elsewhere. Getting out of a decaying rural community is paradoxical: leaving requires money, but there are no jobs to earn the money.

Living in a small, rural town with no jobs or opportunity, many young, White people are doomed to remain there since they lack the means to leave. When a large employer like a factory leaves town, it has devastating effects. What other employers are there in the middle of nowhere? The less fortunate can find only seasonal work, suffer sporadic unemployment, or join the fringes of society (i.e., professional addicts). For the lucky ones, there’s Walmart, Dollar General, McDonald’s, Tractor Supply Co., small grocery stores, or maybe a medical office if there’s one nearby (there isn’t). Others are forced to search for work elsewhere — even if it means a two-hour commute to the nearest metropolitan center, where the job market is better. Rural communities also frequently lack sufficient infrastructure, making long-distance commutes difficult, inconvenient, and costly. When trying to escape rural poverty, every step of the way is an uphill battle.

Kevin Williamson’s revulsion at these communities is blatant. He declares their way of life dead, and in a distasteful metaphor he compares their enthusiasm for Trump with the prescription medication addiction plaguing Middle America. He writes: “Donald Trump’s speeches make them feel good. So does OxyContin.” Yes, he really wrote that! Williamson’s colleague at the National Review, David French, even went so far as to defend that gross analogy in his own article — in which he blames rural Whites for their problems. The pedantic article lectures them on their “moral obligation to do their best” and scolds them for “barely trying.” His explanation for their lack of motivation? He writes: “And always — always — there was a sense of entitlement.”

Latent with the hysteria of the “#NeverTrump” era, it’s hard to seriously analyze much of what National Review had to write about working-class Whites. Their didactic articles read like the flailing mania of an ideology that knows it’s going extinct. The National Review reaffirms the consensus of the “principled” conservatives: Trump is supposedly a disastrous, erratic candidate who would alienate minorities, and Republicans must instead nominate a Conservative, Inc. candidate. These are the so-called “adults in the room.”

iv. Case Study: Ohio.

To understand the Rust Belt voter, Ohio is a good starting point. In 2008 and 2012, Obama was boosted to victory by the most impoverished counties in northeastern Ohio. Much of northeastern Ohio had not voted Republican since 1984, but in 2016 these voters once again turned out for Trump. Northeastern Ohio faces a heap of economic challenges, including unemployment, stagnant wages, and diminishing property values — all of which are below the state average.

In Ohio, economic anxiety isn’t contained to the northeast. Isolated by a lack of infrastructure, other rural regions of the state have also suffered, such as in Ohio’s Appalachian corner, where 17.8% of families live in poverty, according to the most recent Ohio Poverty Report. While the country as a whole saw improvement after the recession, rural areas were left behind and continue to struggle with their economic recovery. “Poverty is the family tradition,” as Ohio native J.D. Vance (now an Ohio Senator) wrote in his 2017 book, Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis (good book by the way).

Among other issues plaguing these counties is the opioid epidemic, which has hit Ohio far worse than other states. Overdoses and broken homes have become commonplace, with some counties in Appalachian Ohio suffering 80% or more of children being removed from their homes in cases of parental drug abuse, according to the Public Children Services Association of Ohio. Meanwhile, amid the opioid epidemic, methamphetamine use has seen a steep increase in several Midwestern states, including Ohio. Despite these circumstances, crime in Appalachia isn’t as bad as you’d think, as Kevin Williamson noted in 2014:

“The Big White Ghetto is different from most other ghettos in one very important way: There’s not much violent crime here. There’s a bit of the usual enterprise one finds everywhere there are drugs and poor people… There’s a great deal of drug use, welfare fraud, and the like, but the overall crime rate throughout Appalachia is about two-thirds the national average, and the rate of violent crime is half the national average, according to the National Criminal Justice Reference Service.”

The bleak future rural Whites face is illustrated in the shocking mortality rates. According to a Wonkblog article referenced by Kevin Williamson:

“The life expectancies among non-college-educated White Americans have been plummeting in an almost unprecedented fashion… Trump counties had proportionally fewer people with college degrees. Trump counties had fewer people working. And the White people in Trump counties were likely to die younger. The causes of death were “increased rates of disease and ill health, increased drug overdose and abuse, and suicide.”

In 2017, the Cleveland Plain-Dealer also reported on this phenomenon:

“The trend of rising premature death rates has been consistently worse in rural counties across the country, a pattern that’s borne out in Ohio. The 10 Ohio counties with the worst premature death rates include nine clustered in the southern tip of the state… These are also among the counties with the state’s highest drug overdose rates, according to the most recently reported data from the Ohio Department of Health.”

With life expectancies on the decline and premature deaths on the incline, these communities could possibly die out. But Kevin Williamson thinks that’s a good thing: “The truth about these dysfunctional, downscale communities is that they deserve to die.” Yes, he actually wrote that!

The sheer hopelessness in these areas is no better summarized than by examining suicide rates, which skyrocket once you pass the city limits. Most shocking to me was a study conducted by The Ohio State University which found that from 1996 to 2010, the youth suicide rate in rural areas was double that of in urban areas. This heartbreaking statistic serves as a sober reminder of their plight.

v. Conclusion.

The White working-class needs to find a home in the Republican Party. Their desperate pleas for help have fallen on deaf ears for far too long. Guy Molyneux articulated this frustration in a 2017 article:

“Non-college whites believe government has let them down, but most have no principled or ideological objections to government playing a strong role in the economy. Although just 20 percent trust the federal government, 50 percent also say it should take a more active role in solving the nation’s economic and social problems. Indeed, two-thirds (68 percent) say the federal government should do more to create jobs and improve wages, and majorities also say it should do more to improve K-12 education, to make college affordable, and to regulate banks and the financial sector.”

Republicans and Democrats have both turned their backs on rural poverty, and it needs to end. Rural voters have grown to distrust the government, as Molyneux writes:

“White working-class voters. Just 20 percent of them [white working-class voters] believe they can trust the federal government more than half of the time (a rather low bar). While 61 percent of white working-class voters have an unfavorable view of corporations, a stratospheric 93 percent have an unfavorable view of politicians.”

While Democrats promote some economic policies supported by many low-income voters — such as entitlement benefits — the growing favoritism of non-Whites among Democrats has left behind underprivileged Whites. On the bright side, Americans are waking up. According to the Public Religion Research Institute, “Republicans are significantly more likely to say Whites, rather than Blacks, experience a lot of discrimination in the U.S. today (43 percent vs. 27 percent, respectively).” Additionally, the Washington Post reported that “perceptions that whites are currently treated unfairly relative to minorities appeared to be an unusually strong predictor of support for Donald Trump in the general election.” This trend was also observed by Pew Research Center:

“This strain of white identity politics, which sees white people as the group in need of special protection, is relatively new. In 2005, 6 percent of both Republicans and Democrats thought white Americans experienced ‘a great deal’ of discrimination, according to a Pew Research Center survey. In 2016, the share of Republicans had jumped to 18 percent, while Democrats ticked up only slightly to 9 percent. Forty-nine percent of Republicans — compared to just 29 percent of Democrats — said whites face at least ‘some’ discrimination.”

The shift toward identity politics turned off many of the White voters Democrats used to rely on. Energized by the possibility of the first Black President and the first woman President, the Democrats failed to notice they were closing the door on White voters. But the more consequential result of Democrats’ embrace of multiculturalism has proven to be the rise of White identity politics.

While Democrats are to blame for ignoring White voters, Republicans are no less guilty in their continued betrayal of White voters. Empty promises are made by Republicans, who appease their voter base by paying lip service to social issues. Yet, when we look at the “Culture War,” one must wonder what conservatives have even conserved? Republicans were too preoccupied with accommodating their donors to pay attention to the rapid cultural shift leftward.

The anger from these broken promises has drained any remaining hope from entire swaths of the country. These voters have had enough. Instead of an urbane, wonkish candidate like Romney, Rubio, or Paul Ryan, the voters decisively chose Trump. Only Trump had the fiery bravado to galvanize indignant White voters.

6. YOUNG REPUBLICANS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME

When my assigned hotel roommate, Dexter, finally arrived, he strolled into the room wearing a Dragonball-Z t-shirt, gold watch, and durag. He was one of the first coworkers I befriended when I was hired. I was relieved to learn he was my roommate because Dexter was easygoing — and he liked to party.

A mandatory staff meeting tomorrow at 9:00 AM wouldn’t stop us from having a good time. We joined fellow coworkers for happy hour at the hotel bar. Since it was a lavish hotel, happy hour meant free booze. As for the hapless bar staff, an entire weekend of craven drunk political yuppies meant utter mayhem.

I was socializing at the cozy hotel bar with a glass of Jack and Coke in hand, cool as a cucumber (at least on the surface). A female coworker, Cassidy, approached me and handed me a strip of paper with a quote printed on it: “You all took a life here today. You did. The Life of the Party.” She explained that she and another coworker had the idea to print out hundreds of slips of paper with unique quotes from The Office and distribute them to random people. How quirky.

I found a seat beside a coworker named Monica. She was a mousy brunette with cool-girl charm, drinking a tequila sunrise alone at the bar. We had the same manager, so I felt comfortable striking up a conversation with her.

Monica told me a story about how a prep-school bro invited her to a party in his hotel room earlier that night. The preppy bro (who was a conference attendee) hit on her and told her his parents ordered a keg delivery to his hotel room — so, she busted him for underage drinking, and he was disinvited from the conference.

I ordered two shots of tequila.

“That’s okay, I don’t drink,” she said, “This is a virgin tequila sunrise.”

“Oh really? Why not?” I asked, but I stopped myself and said, “Never mind. You don’t need to give me a reason.”

For whatever reason, this nonjudgement put me in her good graces.

She told me about her wanderlust Instagram influencer page (basically, she takes lots of photos in Washington, D.C.).

“I knew you’d be interested! I can tell you’re, like, an artistic type.”

“I’m trying to write the Great American Novel while I’m here.”

She sarcastically quipped, “Well, you sure picked the right place for it.”

She was right. In many ways, Florida is the epitome of the American Dream.

“So, you’re a writer? Do you have a blog?”

“Not really.”

She frowned. “What do you write?”

“Horror novels. Really dark shit. You wouldn’t want to hear about it.” This was my unique way of saying I write about the human condition, which often is horrifying.

I could tell Monica was attracted to me, but I had no interest in her. Conservative, Inc. women simply aren’t my type — it would never work out between us. I’ve noticed the recent fetishization of conservative babes. These days it seems any blonde with perky tits can land a media gig with the next Conservative, Inc. startup. I condemn the profane idolatry of it all!

One of my coworkers walked past us and remarked, “You look like a homeless chemistry professor.”

Monica said, “I think you look scholarly.”

Another coworker, Emily, who was eavesdropping, chimed in, “No, you look like a hipster from Aspen.” She was always nice, one of my few friends among this den of thieves. She found love in a hopeless place; she married one of our coworkers, and they’re both now happily retired from politics.

For the record, I’ve obscured the identities of many of my coworkers. Some of them were my friends — most of them were insufferable — and all of them were missing something in their lives or else they wouldn’t be in politics.

I finished my third, or fourth, or fifth drink at the loud, increasingly crowded bar with my contemporaries before I decided it was time for a change of scenery. My coworkers all feigned disappointment when I declined their invitation to go out clubbing, but I had other plans — I was reconnecting with an old friend.

I met up with my old buddy from high school, Tom (AKA “Maverick”), who was a flight instructor in Florida at the time. Although he was soft spoken and buttoned-up, he carried himself with a cocky fly-boy swagger which I admired. When I greeted Tom in the hotel lobby, he removed his aviator sunglasses as if he’d seen a ghost. “How the hell are you?!”

Although Tom resided forty-five minutes away, he was eager to jump on an opportunity — any opportunity — to escape into the big-city nightlife.

At the time, Tom lived in a small, rural dump in inland Florida, where he instructed students at a flight academy. The treacherous subtropical interior of Florida is infamous for its crooks, vagabonds, and outlaws — the so-called “Florida Man.” The White-trash Wild West. Tom was flying out of that bleak quagmire at breakneck speed like a fighter jet toward the bright city lights as soon as I promised he could crash in the bathtub.

We drank rum at the hotel bar before Ubering to the popular strip of nightlife. We walked around downtown and admired the Christmas lights and giant sandcastles in the metro park (the giant sandcastles were part of a cool public art display).

At the first bar, a bartender with a dirty trash ’stache offered us free drinks to keep us drinking on the patio longer. We continued barhopping after a few more drinks. The bar scene was alive with people. There were undercover police galore — I can spot them from miles away.

BIG NEWS: President Trump confirmed as the headline speaker!!

After several bars, we wandered around aimlessly while chain-smoking American Spirit cigarettes. We were just shooting the shit and catching up with each other. We stopped by the ocean to enjoy one last cigarette. My face was illuminated by the modest flame — the radiant glimmer of which revealed the edges of my shadowy surroundings — disappearing just as abruptly as it had ignited. I took a long, leisurely drag and exhaled a thick, pleasant plume of wispy gray smoke.

I looked up at the sky and thought about the weekend ahead of me and what curiosities (or horrors) it would bring.

Tom told me about a historical railroad-tycoon whose mansion still sits on the bay today. You could see it from across the bay — he pointed it out to me. I imagined a Floridian Jay Gatsby wistfully staring out across this Southern iteration of West Egg.

We got bored and returned to the hotel, where we continued drinking into the wee hours of the morning. Our Uber driver was a young, Black woman, with R&B bass sweetly humming inside her car. A sign in her backseat read: “PLEASE RESPECT MY CAR. I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER. I DO NOT CLEAN UP AFTER YOU.” I quietly nodded in approval to her, acknowledging my acceptance of her terms and conditions.

We stayed up all night drinking and listening to eclectic music (alternating between Fleetwood Mac, esoteric reggae, Bauhaus, ska, Talking Heads, underground European dance-techno, Grateful Dead, etc.).

At 3:00 AM, Dexter stumbled back into the room. I was still awake, lost in thought. Tom was caught somewhere in between dreams and consciousness.

Dexter crashed in and slurred, “I’m super fucked up, bro!” He recounted his wild (Tuesday) night at a strip club with some other coworkers, including a wild blonde named Chloe and a stoner named Seven. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing at Tom asleep in the bathtub. Before I could answer he crashed on his bed and passed out.

I couldn’t sleep. There ain’t no rest for the wicked, I suppose.

The idle TV screen illuminated the room (I like to sleep with the TV on when I stay in hotels), playing infomercial marathons. The worst side-effect of insomnia isn’t the sleep deprivation, but rather the empty hole of loneliness that burrows deep in your core during those dark, distraught hours between dusk and dawn.

I wondered if the high concentration of broken people in the vicinity had a magnifying effect on all my rotten emotions.

7. “AMERICA FIRST”

i. Introduction.

In many ways, Trump represented the death of Reaganite conservatism. As the promise of Reagan wanes, Trump proposes a new perspective on the role of government, which differs from both political parties.

In a 2017 tweet, journalist Michael Tracey aptly wrote:

“For all the (fair) complaints about the various unseemly ideological elements which have glommed onto Trump, the most powerful and destructive one has always been the standard-fare GOP… In an alternate universe where a more politically-astute Trump didn’t outsource his legislative agenda to the congressional GOP, he might be ‘chiding’ ambivalent conservative senators today to back his promised infrastructure bill. Instead, he brought on establishment chieftains like Priebus and through him deferred almost entirely to Ryan/McConnell in terms of agenda-setting.”

There’s a clear-cut schism between the party establishment and the grassroots base. Even the voters recognize this — a 2017 Rasmussen Reports poll indicates that 43% of voters believe the Republican Party is a bigger roadblock for Trump than the Democrats. The poll also found that while 33% of Republican voters felt more aligned with Trump, only 12% felt more aligned to Congressional Republicans.

ii. Neoliberalism.

Dogmatic fiscal conservatism known as “neoliberalism” first rose to prominence during Reagan’s Presidency. I use the terms fiscal “conservatism,” “neoliberalism,” and “Reaganism” interchangeably. These policies were adopted by Democrats during Bill Clinton’s Presidency. Upon the collapse of the Soviet Union, neoliberalism became the default position of both Republicans and Democrats (and the world for that matter). Characteristics of neoliberalism include faith in free markets and open trade, tax cuts (“supply-side economics”), austerity, deregulation, and privatization.

Which brings us to our current economic mess.

The shortcomings of neoliberalism have been ignored, with the burden falling upon the poor, especially poor Whites. The Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street movements were the first major outcries against this status quo, but the movements didn’t come to fruition until the rise of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders respectively. One movement decries government as too corrupt, while the other decries corporations as too corrupt — but perhaps they’re both correct. Neoliberalism has led to the unholy intertwining of business and government, each working for the other with the shared goal of economic growth — no matter the cost.

Mainstream, fiscal conservative Republicans have been consistently rejected by voters on the national level. On the other hand, Trump’s protectionist message is far more popular with voters. To maintain relevance and win elections, Republicans must explore different avenues.

iii. “America First.”

Trump gave fresh life to the Republican Party with his “America First” doctrine. This message of economic protectionism resonates with voters beyond the traditional Republican electorate. Republicans have a vital opportunity to expand their electoral coalition and maintain governing power. Winning working-class voters — especially working-class Whites — is vital to maintaining a majority coalition. Trump’s “America First” message offers Republicans a surefire strategy for expanding their coalition.

At his inauguration, Trump stated, “From this moment on, it’s going to be America first. Every decision on trade, on taxes, on immigration, on foreign affairs, will be made to benefit American workers and American families.” According to Morning Consult, 65% of voters supported that message, including 64% of independents and nearly half of Democrats. Additionally, “About 6 in 10 voters, including 48 percent of Democrats, also said the federal government should be required to follow Trump’s mantra: Buy American and hire American.” They also found that “Roughly three-fourths (74 percent) of voters with blue-collar jobs had a positive reaction to the ‘America first’ argument, and 87 percent said they thought the federal government should conduct business with those rules.” Furthermore, the poll revealed that during this speech, Trump’s approval rating hit an all-time high of 49%.

Trump’s “America First” slogan is significant because it set him apart from the bland Republicans he ran against. The slogan is also a useful tool because it acts as an ideological lens through which all policies can be scrutinized. For instance, in his Inauguration speech Trump stated that “a nation exists to serve its citizens”. Later in the speech, Trump said, “Every decision on trade, on taxes, on immigration, on foreign affairs, will be made to benefit American workers and American families.”

iv. Post-Reaganism.

This “America First” view on the role of government deviates from conventional conservatism (i.e., “Reaganism”), which holds the principles of limited government and free market dogma above all else — even when it causes legislative gridlock and loses elections. Exemplary of this self-defeating mindset are the budgetary priorities of establishment Republicans. In past budgets, House Speaker Paul Ryan made the privatization of Social Security a primary objective. Despite his fixation on this goal, Social Security is favored by 85% of Americans according to a 2013 poll conducted by the National Association of Social Insurance.

Reaganism reigned supreme for decades. “Government gets in the way of solving problems,” to paraphrase Reagan. However, this attitude has seen a sharp decline as more people start believing the free market isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

A new attitude is developing among Americans. The two most significant events contributing to this zeitgeist are the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the 2007–2008 financial crisis. With both events, the public favored government action in the form of increased surveillance, bailouts, and financial regulations respectively. People have more faith in government these days. For a contemporary example, we’ve seen the same response with the COVID-19 pandemic (the third most significant zeitgeist event).

Trump embodies this new attitude. He offers an alternative to the same stale policy proposals voters have heard for decades. Fellow Republican running on laissez-faire economics failed to achieve the popularity of Trump’s populist message. In 2012, when Reaganism culminated in the quintessential free market Republican Presidential ticket — Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan — voters soundly rejected it. The truth is public opinion has shifted so far from Reaganism that a conventional, free market conservative may never be able to win the Presidency again.

Rather than opposing big government, voters want a government that works for them instead of a few at the top. More evidence of this comes from a 2016 FiveThirtyEight/Survey Monkey poll: “[M]ore Republicans than Democrats, the survey found, were against free trade, with 47 percent of GOP voters saying it was a bad thing for the economy compared with 28 percent of Democrats who felt the same way.”

Some Republicans in Washington opposing Trump seem all too ready to sacrifice their constituents at the altar of unfettered capitalism. The Republican Party needs to make choices: police the world or rebuild at home? The free market or America First? Adapt or die?

v. Conclusion.

Donald Trump may be the first non-conservative candidate elected in the modern Republican Party, which is why it’s no surprise he also set the record for most Republican primary votes in history. Under Reagan, the GOP became a definitively conservative party. But Reagan is dead. In the post-Reagan era, voters no longer place the same trust in capitalism. Reagan once said, “Government is the problem,” and Trump responded, “America First.”

Trump won the Presidency because he wasn’t a conservative, and none of the principled conservative candidates running against him would’ve stood a chance against Hillary Clinton.

Fiscal conservatism is a relatively niche ideology. Mostly wealthy voters identify as “very conservative,” and fiscal conservatism is difficult to market — especially when trying to expand the party coalition. A fiscally conservative has not — and will not — win a national election because neoliberal policies don’t have a path to victory. If American voters wanted a fiscally conservative president, they would’ve elected Romney in 2012, or picked Cruz in 2016. But they didn’t; instead, they voted for the billionaire populist, Donald J. Trump.

8. THE BILLIONAIRE POPULIST

i. Introduction.

A pervasive theme throughout my research was the inquiry of academics and pundits alike into what motivated people to vote for Trump, and, more importantly, why these people were overwhelmingly White. The topic of non-stop discussion was “White working-class voters.” Everyone wanted to know: what attracted White working-class voters to Trump?

An important resource I referenced was the 2016 book The Populist Explosion by John B. Judis, editor-at-large at Talking Points Memo. This book offers insight into both the right-populism of Trump and the left-populism of Bernie Sanders by examining these American strains of populism alongside the growing European populist movement.

ii. What is Populism?

Judis clarifies that attempts to define populism are misguided since the ideology defies the common left-right dichotomy. Additionally, populism varies in practice between countries or regions. Instead, he categorizes populism as a “political logic — a way of thinking about politics.” Populism is different from socialism as “It is not a politics of class conflict, and it doesn’t necessarily seek the abolition of capitalism.” Left-populism differs from liberal and progressive movements by assuming antagonism between social classes rather than seeking to reconcile their interests. Right-populism differs from conservatism in its suspicion of the business class.

Judis draws a distinction between left-populism and right-populism. Left-populism unites the bottom and middle classes against an upper-class elite, whereas right-populism unites the lower classes against an elite which is also accused of coddling an outside group such as immigrants. This so-called “elite” can vary, but is frequently composed of monied powers, intellectuals, the mainstream media, and the political establishment.

Furthermore, Judis writes that populist movements are significant because they serve as warning signs of political crisis. A rise in populism indicates dissatisfaction with the current political norms due to the establishment’s neglect of the people’s concerns. Nowhere is this clearer than in the appeal of Trump due to Washington’s continual ignorance of the growing immigration problem. The takeaway here is that the political establishment requires change.

iii. Populism in the GOP.

Astonishingly, the actual Republican Party as an institution had little bearing on the electorate’s preferences. The Populist Explosion cites a USA Today poll of primary voters which found that 68% of Trump supporters would still vote for him if he ran as an independent. Contrary to the consensus among political scientists that people vote for parties rather than people, it seems that Trump would have been just as popular with or without the GOP.

This irrelevance of the Republican Party is because Trump differed from his primary opponents by running on a platform of right-populism, rather than fiscal conservatism. This defiance of mainstream conservatism won him the support of White working-class voters, which ultimately pushed him over the edge to victory in 2016. But how do these voters differ from typical Republican voters?

iv. Demographics.

A few notable trends can be observed in the demographic data sourced by Judis. Early on, political scientists observed that Trump voters tended to be less educated. Eventually education, not income, was established as the strongest factor correlated to support for Trump. According to a survey by the American National Election Studies, 70.1% of Trump primary elections voters polled were not college graduates, while the supporters of principled conservatives such as John Kasich were twice as educated.

In a rapidly changing economy, voters without a college degree are frustrated by limited job prospects. This frustration is revealed in the survey responses of Trump’s primary election voters. Out of all Republicans, they were the most worried about the Great Recession — even if they were not as badly affected. Additionally, Trump voters held the most pessimistic views on the economy. According to Pew Research Center, 48% of Trump voters believed economic conditions were poor, as opposed to 31% of Ted Cruz voters, and only 28% of John Kasich voters.

In addition to the educational divide, there was also a schism in income levels, although this wasn’t as strong of an indicator for support of Trump. In the Republican primary election, half of Trump voters earned less than $50,000 a year versus only 35.3% of Kasich voters. While low education and/or income was characteristic of many Trump voters, Trump was able to court the votes of just as many wealthy, educated Republicans.

v. On the Issues.

The voter data revealed further differences between Trump supporters and other Republicans. While only 40% of Kasich voters believed immigrants were a burden on the economy, a whopping 70% of Trump voters agreed with that statement. Moreover, 66.4% of Trump voters opposed birthright citizenship for the children of illegal immigrants, while only 26% of Kasich voters believed the same.

On trade, 67% of Trump’s voters responded that free trade deals are bad for the United States, versus 46% of Kasich’s voters, and 40% of Cruz’s voters. Yet another issue where Trump voters and traditional Republican voters differed was reductions in Social Security, with 73% of Trump voters opposing any reductions. Looking at the broader scope, 61% of Trump voters believed the economy unfairly favored the rich and powerful, as opposed to 51% of Kasich voters and 45% of Cruz voters.

One of the defining issues that set Trump voters apart from other Republican voters was political correctness. Trump voters were the least likely group of voters to think people should be more sensitive about what they say to people of different backgrounds. While it may seem like all Republican voters are fed up with political correctness, they vary in their degree of opposition. While 57% of Trump voters responded that people are too easily offended, only 45.9% of Kasich voters agreed.

vi. Conclusion.

Understanding Trump’s popularity is key to rebuilding the GOP into a nationally competitive workers’ party. Republicans have failed to learn from 2016, but they’re catching on. It’s debatable whether Trump’s populist message was realized during his Presidency. Trump is at least a steppingstone toward a new Republican Party, unlike anything we’ve seen before.

9. EVERYONE IN POLITICS IS A NARCISSIST OR SOCIOPATH (OR JUST STUPID)

Everybody knows that politics is a slimy business, but few realize the full depth of its depravity. The real evil of politics is far more banal than depicted in shows like House of Cards.

Politics attracts some of the worst people I’ve ever encountered in my life. Nihilistic sociopaths, libertarian drug addicts, Machiavellian reptiles, Christian whackos, psychopathic gays, failed online micro-celebrities, the “fucking Lizard King” (don’t ask) — the nastiest bunch of self-absorbed freaks imaginable. It’s even more terrifying when you meet someone who believes all the bullshit and thinks door-knocking makes the world a better place. Usually, all hope is lost for these poor bastards.

What compels someone to become a politico? The truth is many of them were too stupid/lazy to get into law school. Whenever I met someone with true intelligence, I always wondered what they were doing here in politics instead of pursuing law school. That’s what I ultimately decided to do. I became a paralegal and pursued my repressed dream of law school. Although lawyers are maligned for many of the same reasons as politicians, they aren’t anywhere near as vile, nihilistic, and reptilian.

Mandatory staff meeting that morning at 9:00 AM in the convention center (our venue for the event that week). Beforehand, Dexter and I had breakfast with some coworkers in the hotel lobby (virtually the only food we ate all day). The rest of the day was spent setting up things. We worked on event setup, mindlessly completing miscellaneous or otherwise inane tasks like good, little drones. One of these tasks was constructing hundreds of fake palm trees to decorate the inside of the convention center.

Afterward, they treated us to a mediocre catered lunch. The organization’s Chief Operations Officer addressed the staff in the convention center cafeteria for an ultra-paranoid staff briefing (indoctrination session) — in which he warned that at least one of us would fuck up and get fired by the end of the week. Who could it be???

During lunch, one female co-worker at my table told a group of us a story about her new apartment. She and her roommate realized someone was burglarizing the apartment and going through their belongings. Eventually, they deduced that the culprit was her roommate’s ex-boyfriend who was sneaking in to steal their panties for God knows what reason. Now her fiancé conducts nightly tactical sweeps of her apartment with his AR-15 for their safety and reassurance. I bet he’s dying to use it.

There was a short recess following lunch. I wandered outside and sat down on a cushioned wooden bench in a secluded public garden behind the convention center. I spent the rest of my break exploring an outdoor mall and looking at weird birds.

Back at the convention center, there was a group of us waiting to be told what to do. Suddenly, we heard an engine roar, and a white Lamborghini drove inside the convention center.

They allowed us to hop inside the luxury car and pose for photos. The man who drove the Lambo remarked that I looked like Ferris Bueller. Behind the wheel, I imagined myself as a character from Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis:

“But this road doesn’t go anywhere,” he told me.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“What does?” he asked, after a little while.

“Just that we’re on it, dude,” I said.

The cost of the Lambo was equivalent to your individual share of the national debt. It was intended to make a bold visual statement about politics, but in a lavish city like this, the Lambo barely even stood out among the frequent Aston Martin or Maserati that could be spotted cruising the downtown strip any given Saturday night.

Later that afternoon, they forced us to conduct “extreme vetting.” This was the most demoralizing part of that week. Basically, we were instructed to scour the social media profiles of event attendees with the objective of rooting out anyone we arbitrarily labeled as an extremist or otherwise outside of mainstream conservatism (i.e., anybody who was “too far right” — whatever that means). There was also immense paranoia regarding infiltrators and saboteurs. Apparently, droves of these mischief-makers were expected to crash the event. If we found evidence that someone was in violation of these arbitrary standards, we were instructed to report them to our superiors so they could be swiftly disinvited and possibly even BLACKLISTED from mainstream conservative organizations.

I didn’t see anything suspicious, but I wouldn’t have said anything if I had. I didn’t care about policing the rank-and-file of the conservative movement. Most of them aren’t people who deserve to have their lives ruined. We should be thankful they were even interested in our stupid conference to begin with.

That’s the thing with Republicans — Democrats rarely turn on their own ranks, whereas Republicans won’t hesitate to cannibalize themselves. Paranoia is the driving force behind everything Republicans do. My organization’s climate was toxic and hyper-sensitive — one ambiguous social media post, and you’re BLACKLISTED. Since mischief-makers were in town, everyone was on edge and paranoid. Anyone could be an undercover saboteur. It was a ridiculous, Orwellian affair.

The cruelest part about all this grim undertaking was that these students were the ones who made it possible for us to hold these stupid conferences in the first place. They were trigger-happy when it came to throwing their own people under the bus the instant someone became inconvenient for their image. It’s ironic that these are the people who complain about “Cancel Culture.”

Back at the hotel, I went to an impromptu meeting in the lobby with a coworker, Anne, who I met back during new-hire training. She asked if I wanted to meet up and write field reports. Since my job involved a lot of travel, I rarely got to interact with my coworkers, so I wanted to capitalize on my opportunity to build rapport with some of them this week. I agreed to meet her in an empty conference room on the first floor of the hotel.

No work was accomplished. She spent the entire time blabbering about her tumultuous, yet uninteresting, love life. She vented to me about tensions with her mom because her ex wasn’t Jewish.

Nothing is more uncomfortable than the unsolicited over-sharing of information by a professional acquaintance. What the hell does she think this is — a dating gameshow?

I made a quick mental note to keep my distance from her this week.

Cut to the hotel bar that night. I met up with my coworkers in the downstairs hotel bar. Our presence was swiftly established at this hotel bar, and we were unwelcomed from the start. Plumes of e-cigarette vapor puffed up above the ruckus from somewhere in the buzzing bar.

BREAKING NEWS: TRUMP OFFICIALLY IMPEACHED!

We all lost our minds. Some yelled in rage over this grave injustice — others yelled as if to say, “Bring it on!” Absolute depravity ensued. Like piranhas, my coworkers ran in a frenzy to the bar, pounding their fists, waving twenty-dollar bills in the air, and barking their orders. This is the only aspect of politics that matters — the decadent bar culture.

The announcement of Trump’s impeachment made me feel intense anger, confusion, and shame which persisted throughout the week.

Dexter and I connected with Seven, another one of our buddies. Seven was on the verge of a blackout. He kept ranting and raving about politics and incomprehensible conspiracy theories.

It’s worth mentioning here that Dexter and Seven were both good dudes. We never stayed connected after I quit politics, and sometimes I miss them if you can call it that.

Many of my coworkers were outright bastards, but even worse than that was the whole Mean Girls treatment — those were the ones that truly scared me. You know exactly the type of gossip, manipulation, and otherwise backhanded shit I’m talking about. Machiavelli dressed up as a sorority bitch.

And that Mean Girls shit includes the gays, too. Who knew there were so many gay Republicans (that’s not even including the countless number of closet cases). Everybody knows the trope of the closeted Republican. It’s a real thing — one of them tried to molest me when I worked at the Statehouse. He’s a disgraced state legislator who resigned amid a slew of accusations from other young men.

Anyway, the point is that Seven wouldn’t shut up about politics even though it was the last thing in the god-damn world I wanted to talk about. I really wished he would stop it with the conspiracy talk — it was fringe-adjacent, and that meant it could result in being BLACKLISTED.

The truth was I just didn’t want anything at all to do with politics anymore, much less talk about it.

It’s not safe to openly discuss your actual beliefs around coworkers here — what if they decide to BLACKLIST you??? You don’t want to be on the BLACKLIST, do you???

Dexter, Seven, and I (as well as Chloe and the other coworkers in our clique) went to another bar. There we met a handsome bartender named Slick Rick, who moonlighted as a pimp. He tried to sell us various drugs — coke, molly, Xanax, Quaaludes, something called “plant food,” etc.

“I can get you whatever,” he told us, “My plug will be here in an hour or two, if you’re cool with that…?” Well fuck that, we’re not waiting around all night for this guy. We’d just have to score coke elsewhere. Later, Slick Rick returned and propositioned us with hookers. We politely declined.

A Mexican line-dancing flash-mob erupted in the beachside tiki bar. Dexter succumbed to the groovy vibes and joined in. A spontaneous conga line formed organically. A Puerto Rican couple were flamenco dancing under a rotating disco ball while we sipped tequila sunrises around a high-top table across the room. For a while I forgot all about the stupid conference.

I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the last tolerable day of my stay in West Palm Beach before everything went to shit.

By the time I finally passed out in my hotel room cradling a bottle of rum, I’d gone completely bonkers, driven to my maximum mental overload.

I just want to go home.

10. LOOK AT YOUR FALSE IDOL NOW

Trump emerged as the unprofaned manifestation of Machiavellianism during the 2016 election.

Because Trump was able to mobilize such an enthusiastic voter base, it gave Him the freedom to engage in erratic, unprecedented behaviors. To His supporters, this fueled their enthusiasm. Meanwhile, His opponents were struck with fear by His idiosyncrasies and hyperbole. An example would be His comment in the final debate threatening to imprison Crooked Hillary if He won. Democrats heard the words of a dictator. But it also spawned one of the most popular chants heard at His campaign rallies: “LOCK HER UP!”

The more appalled His opponents grew, the less effective their opposition became. It’s hard to convince an undecided voter to not vote for Trump by frantically calling Him “literally Hitler,” or by writing an opinion piece about how Trump is affecting your mental health (as some journalists did). The worst of it devolved to strange conspiracies involving Soviet spies, sleeper agents, and other ludicrous tropes from spy novels. But you can’t stump the Trump. “Teflon Don” is antifragile — the more He’s attacked, the stronger He grows.

That’s not to say that Trump didn’t do any fear mongering of His own — it just worked better for Him. For example, He capitalized on the socioeconomic and cultural anxieties of Americans. Taking historical voting trends into consideration when contextualizing the 2016 election, one can conclude it was always unlikely that a candidate like Hillary Clinton would be successful.

America is embroiled in pessimism. Voters have grown cynical due to the inability to affect any change in the country. Unbeknownst to the D.C. crowd, there’s a dormant angry mob, just waiting to lash out. They’re angry and frustrated, but mostly they feel betrayed. They keep voting for change but get business-as-usual. It was the classical definition of insanity.

I continued to support Trump, but over the course of His first term, it became clear that Trump was just as fallible as anybody else. You may have noticed I’m capitalizing Trump’s name and pronouns (insert joke about liberals and their pronouns). I’m doing this because His followers believe He is literally Jesus H. Christ — and I mean literally. Trump is viewed by many as a philosopher king, the “God-Emperor,” the apotheosis of a vengeful deity, a long-awaited reckoning. But he’s far from perfect.

Part of Trump’s appeal is that He’s not a politician. However, Trump’s biggest flaw was that He lacked the political tact necessary to accomplish much. Trump is often compared to Richard Nixon (the best President of the twentieth century) but let me tell you — Trump is no Nixon. For all that’s said about Nixon, it can’t be denied that he was a skilled political operator — Trump is not. For example — upon taking office, Trump inexplicably surrounded Himself with the same ghoulish GOP sycophants and sinister Wall Street alums He promised to throw out. Early in His Presidency, Trump could have made inroads with Democrats by pursuing a bipartisan infrastructure bill. I remember Him frequently mentioning an infrastructure plan on the 2016 campaign trail — so where is it? There’s much that could’ve been done differently. It’s disappointing.

Trump can play the media like a fiddle all day, but the machine of the federal government was a whole different game. The “Deep State” threw everything they had at Him. Trump wasn’t prepared for the gridlock and histrionics He would encounter in Washington. As a result, His Presidency was neutered.

Despite everything, the world lost some magic when Trump left office. President Biden is boring. Will 2024 be the return of Trump? I think so.

11. THE TRUMP EFFECT (2018)

i. Introduction.

Many view the upcoming Congressional elections as a referendum on the president, which begs the question: how do voters feel about Trump?

Midterm elections are regarded by political scientists and pundits as a referendum on the president. In theory, midterms are when there’s a reactionary vote against the ruling party. For example, the Americans elected Bill Clinton in 1992; however, the following midterm election was 1994’s “Gingrich Revolution,” in which Republicans took the House and Senate in massive electoral victories.

Democratic pundits expect voters to flock to the polls this year expressing dissatisfaction with the Trump administration. Anticipated backlash against Trump is so strong that many are predicting a “Blue Wave” to sweep the nation. So, what effect will Trump have on the 2018 election?

ii. Approval Ratings.

Ahead of the 2018 midterms, Trump’s approval rating has seen a recent surge. According to an NBC/Wall Street Journal poll, Trump’s approval rating has jumped to a higher level than Obama’s approval rating at the same time in his Presidency. According to the same poll, Trump’s approval rating is at a record high of 47 percent. NBC writes:

“But nearly two weeks before Election Day, the same poll also shows President Donald Trump at his highest job rating yet as president, as well as Republicans with their largest lead on the economy in the poll’s history… Trump’s job rating among registered voters stands at 47 percent approve, 49 percent disapprove — up from 44 percent approve, 52 percent disapprove a month ago. That’s his highest rating as president in the NBC/WSJ poll.”

The NBC/WSJ poll also found that “[t]hirty-three percent of registered voters in the poll say their vote for Congress in 2018 will be a signal of opposition to the president; 29 percent say their vote will be a signal of support; and 36 percent say it won’t be a signal either way.”

Trump’s approval rating among Republicans remains around a consistent 90%. Amid Trump’s record-high approval ratings, the Republican Party has also reached new heights in its own approval rating, which hit its highest numbers in nearly a decade. According to a Gallup poll, the GOP’s approval rating is at 45% as compared to the Democrats’ 44 percent approval rating. Breitbart writes:

“Gallup’s Jim Norman wrote: The parity in Republicans’ and Democrats’ favorable ratings marks a change from what has generally been the case since Barack Obama’s election in 2008. Republicans have usually been rated less positively than Democrats over this time, with the Republican Party’s favorability rating for the last decade averaging 39%, compared with the Democratic Party’s 44%. Only one other time in the last decade has the Republican Party had a significantly higher score than the Democratic Party. That one exception came in November 2014, immediately after elections that saw Republicans capture control of the Senate and expand their majority in the House, when 42% rated the GOP favorably and 36% the Democrats… The overall increase in the favorable image of the Republican Party is a result of a jump in the positive views of Republicans, including independents who lean toward the party. The percentage of Republicans and leaners with favorable views of their party grew from 67% last September to 85% now.”

The poll also found that “[t]wo other major subgroups that tend to be more Republican than the overall population — men and those living in middle-income households — have become more likely to view the Republican Party favorably in the past year.”

iii. Presidential Referendum.

According to Pew Research Center, the portion of the electorate responding that President Trump is a factor in their 2018 midterm election vote is the highest recorded since 1982 when they began tracking that question. This metric accounts for both Democrats motivated to vote against him as well as Republicans motivated to vote for him. Pew Research Center writes:

“Six in 10 registered voters said President Donald Trump is a factor in a Pew Research Center poll taken in September, including 37% who said they’ll cast a ballot to oppose the President and 23% who’ll be voting to support him. Just 37% said Trump isn’t a factor in their vote for Congress.”

Indeed, Pew Research Center concluded that in this year’s election, voters are vastly more concerned about the control of Congress and the President than in previous midterms. Pew Research Center writes:

“More than a third of voters (37%) say they consider their congressional ballot as a vote against Trump, while about a quarter (23%) say they consider it a vote for Trump… About two-thirds (66%) of Democratic and Democratic-leaning voters say they think of their vote for Congress as a vote against Trump, while about half (48%) of Republican and Republican-leaning voters say they think of their vote as a vote for Trump.”

According to Pew Research Center, the percentage of Democrat voters who consider their vote for Congress as a vote against the President is comparable to the number of Democrats who considered their vote in the 2006 midterms as a vote against George W. Bush, which is also like the portion of Republicans who considered their vote in the 2014 midterms for Congress as a vote against Obama.

iv. Endorsements.

The President has many jobs, including chief executive of the federal government and commander-in-chief of the military. But another duty of any President is serving as the de facto leader of their party. The Republican National Committee has an internal leadership structure, but the President’s authority supersedes that. Prior to Trump’s election, the highest-ranking Republican in government was House Speaker Paul Ryan.

One of the most important duties of the party leader is campaigning for down-ticket races. Recently, Trump has endorsed Republicans and attacked their Democratic opponents on Twitter. Some Republicans receive his full endorsement, while others have his support despite not having an official endorsement. An official endorsement from any President obviously carries lots of weight, so the question remains: what do Trump’s endorsements mean for the midterm elections?

FiveThirtyEight says this of Trump’s endorsements:

“Let’s start with the kingpin of the Republican Party, the president himself. Trump endorsed 17 candidates in open Republican primaries this election cycle, and 15 of them won. That 88 percent win rate is the highest of any person or group we looked at.”

The Washington Post has already noted that although Congressional candidates are running on their legislative records, voters react based on their relationship with Trump. As the Washington Post put it:

“For Republicans, the risk is sticking close to a president with immense star power among the MAGA faithful but who is radioactive to other voters. For Democrats, the options are attacking Trump and appearing to be members of a “leftist mob,” or staying mum and turning off voters eager for an aggressive check on the president.”

Some Republicans have received the message and climbed aboard the “Trump Train”. For example, Ohio’s Republican Senate candidate, Congressman Jim Renacci, has even went so far as to mirror Trump in his “Ohio First” campaign slogan. Many other Republicans running for Congress have echoed Trump’s agenda.

v. Messaging.

As the de facto leader of the GOP, Trump also has leads on messaging. In politics, “messaging” refers to the candidates’ communications with the electorate which (1) states an issue; (2) proposes their solution to the problem; and (3) specifies what people can do to fix it (i.e., vote for them). It’s the candidate’s reason for running and why you should vote for them.

While previously emphasizing his tax reform bill and the booming economy, Trump has recently made a point to refocus the midterm elections on immigration due to the migrant caravan crisis. Breitbart reports:

“In an effort to refocus the midterm elections on his popular pro-American immigration agenda — wherein he has sought to build a wall and reduce overall immigration to the U.S. to boost the wages of America’s working and middle class — Trump said: Blue wave means crime. It means open borders. Not good. We need new laws. We need border laws, we need immigration laws — we need ’em fast, we’re going to get ’em. Hopefully the midterms will help toward that end.”

But how effective is this messaging? Breitbart offers some insight:

“Trump’s “America First” immigration agenda has had widespread support for years now. A previous Harvard/Harris poll found that nearly two in three voters support Trump’s effort to reduce overall immigration to the country — the U.S. currently admits more than 1.5 million foreign nationals every year.”

In a separate article, Breitbart writes:

“The Harvard/Harris poll revealed that 77 percent of white voters, 53 percent of black voters, and 51 percent of Hispanic voters said they believe the U.S. needs to crack down on immigration laws.”

We’ve seen time and time again that Trump’s “America First” immigration policy is a winning agenda for candidates to run on.

vi. Conclusion.

The data reveals that while Trump may be fueling reactionary Democrats ahead of the midterm elections, he’s also mobilizing Republicans in a way we haven’t seen in a long time.

12. GOD-EMPEROR TRUMP

This isn’t fun anymore.

It was too early to be this overwhelmed. I had partied myself out before the conference even started. How could I have made such a rookie mistake?

The circus came to town.

When we arrived at the convention center, I couldn’t tell if I was still dreaming. I was so sleep-deprived I couldn’t believe my bleary, bloodshot eyes. The streets were a hive of frenzied activity. There was a procession of loud, eccentric conference attendees rolling along in a parade of digital camo Humvees, MAGA mall-crawlers, and vans painted with bizarre religious artwork. Drones adorned with GoPro cameras zipped around overhead. It was like an asylum for the criminally insane.

The caravan of boomers each with their own patriotic carnival act of spectacular MAGA insanity, the President’s own band of roadies dedicated to following His travels. You could almost hear a calliope tune somewhere in the distance. They were like conservative Deadheads on a long, strange trip, following Him around the country in weird, decorated vans. Or more like a traveling freak show.

Where do these people come from?

There were traveling merchants setting up shop with strange, homemade Trump memorabilia. One such item I almost bought was a Trump hard-hat/combat helmet (it was badass, but expensive). There was also the “Deplora-bear” teddy-bear (the quintessential Christmas gift for your grandma). One of my coworkers bought a Deplora-bear. I’m ashamed to admit I was tempted to buy one too.

Despite the psychotic fury of these loud, pushy outlanders, the locals were salivating at the fresh crop of impressionable upper middle-class bozos that had just arrived in town, ripe for the picking.

And then there were the protests. During Trump’s Presidency, a series of protests and counter-protests sprang up nationwide. These “protests” were an excuse for the far-left and the far-right to beat the ever-living shit out of each other. You’d see pathetic clout-chasers decked out in homemade riot gear, knowing there’s a chance they could get maced. But the most important piece of the getup is a selfie-stick so you can Periscope the whole thing live — please “LIKE” and “SUBSCRIBE!”

There was an emerging culture of conservative clout. Hyper-reality is the worst thing to come out of the 2016 election — a scourge of RINO (“Republican In Name Only”) grifters riding the Trump wave for just one more hit of clout. Everybody wanted to be the main character. Trump’s most important contribution to the economy was all the hundreds of online personalities riding on his coattails who saw the ripe opportunity to cash in on the volatile political climate.

I don’t know where to put this story, so it’s going here — I call it “Boomers Gone Wild.” This occurred two weeks before I went to Florida. I accompanied the candidate to a private party in the VIP lounge of an upscale cigar bar with wooden barrels for tables and other rustic decorating. Stale cigar smoke filled the air. There was a Trump speech on TV. The room went silent, and the boomers were hypnotized by His speech. He really does have a way with words. Trump fires off a snappy zinger — the boomers throw their gray heads back, cackling, clapping like trained sea lions. As we were leaving, the candidate said to me, “Shit man, I don’t even know who those guys were!” and laughed. I don’t know the point of that story, but it’s amusing.

I couldn’t make it. Crippling anxiety. Dreadful. Sporadic panic attacks all day. Fits of dry tears. Multiple missed calls to my therapist. I feel like I’m being swallowed alive by this wasteland.

It was all a blur — disorder, lost in the city. Dark clouds blotted out the sun. Gusts of wind blew in from over the whirling, restless ocean. A pelican hung suspended in the air, flying but making no progress, thrust back repeatedly by the raging wind (I could relate). An ominous black helicopter scanned the horizon, patrolling along at a suspiciously low altitude. Sirens in the distance. Are those sirens from an ambulance or the paddy-wagon?

In a sudden flashbang reality comes back into focus. Where the hell am I? I was bent forward on a steel bench at the passenger train station. My face was streaked with hot sweat. Need to keep moving.

I frantically retreated to my hotel room and locked myself inside. My only solace was to wail muted screams into a pillow until it felt like I existed again.

The only reason I came back to the convention center was because I wanted to see Trump. That’s what I came here for in the first place.

There was plenty of real-world and online drama leading up to Trump’s speech. Service agents bullied the staff around. Snipers on the roof. Metal detectors. Fatalities ran high: many were kicked out, banned, or fired.

Later it was time for The Main Event — The Man Himself. Trump rallies are like rock concerts. We crammed in to hear our Prophet speak. Heavy bass blasted into the arena full of 5,000 conservative youths, pop rhythm booming amid fever-pitch anticipation for The Man of the hour Himself. I recognized the song as a familiar favorite — “The Best” by Tina Turner. I can’t help hearing Tina Turner as that melodic voice of rationalization, singing directly to Trump: “You’re simply the best, better than all the rest… I hang on every word you say.”

The room erupted with madness when He finally appeared onstage. I was sweating from the heat of the strobe lights. It was an ethereal experience. Trump knocks it out of the park with His speeches every time. I can’t remember most of what he said, but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

I need a drink.

Afterwards, a group of us (Dexter, Seven, Chloe, etc.) skipped the leadership ball (“prom”) for a night out clubbing. It was our final night in town, after all.

Although we skipped the prom, I found out the next morning over breakfast with coworkers that the awards ceremony was rigged, merely a flagrant sham. The staff awards once again went to the fine people in our fundraising department, while this year’s recipients of the student awards coincidentally all had philanthropic parents. The whole god-damn thing was just an audacious circle-jerk.

Somewhere along the way, Dexter, Seven, and I purchased a bag of kratom. We mixed it into a hot tea and sipped the putrid concoction from disposal coffee cups before heading out for the night.

That night we wasted too much time trying to score coke. Because I was a pro at this, I knew our only hope of scoring some sweet, sweet cocaine rested with the women of our entourage. I implored Chloe to use her looks to help us score coke. She got a lot of attention that night, but to no avail. (Later that bitch tried to steal pills from me, so she can go fuck herself). Alas, our attempts to score drugs were fruitless — which was strange since these events bring with them a wave of deranged vices.

West Palm Beach was swarming with young political junkies like a furious blight of humming locusts. These people were already capable of anything: now you’ve added hard liquor to the picture — in addition to a plethora of easily procurable drugs. The wretched mix resulted in an orgy of promising young narcissists.

When you think about it, West Palm Beach was the perfect backdrop for a vicious pack of young politicos such as us. Although we appeared different on the surface, our scene of preppy professionals shared much in common with the motley crew of pimps, hustlers, casual addicts, and coke-bunnies who call West Palm Beach home.

Oh no. Libertarians showed up — the night is officially over.

Libertarians always kill the vibe. They unwittingly crash any party upon their arrival because they turn everything into an intense, philosophical debate over legalizing crack cocaine (or something else equally asinine). The consensus is that libertarians are the worst political buzzkills. They take themselves way too seriously and think way too ideologically. They’ll suck you into an inescapable, black rabbit-hole of robotic, logical debates on ethical philosophy from which there’s no salvation. Sometimes I miss it.

On our way to the next bar. Rolling down the street, passing a fat joint and bottle of gin around the car, blasting Snoop Dog. I have no idea who was driving. One of the libertarians gave me some modafinil.

Flashing brightly on the TV above the outdoor tiki bar was a documentary about Auschwitz — god-damn-it! This was too dark, even for me. Due to the oblivious faces of everybody around me, I must second guess whether the Holocaust documentary is a hallucination (but I suppose truth is stranger than fiction). Now there was nothing too grim for me to handle that night, nothing could phase me now. I had officially seen it all.

The libertarians introduced dark vibes. Leave it to the libertarians to harshen the mood with their conspiratorial delusions of persecution. We concluded that we were being trailed by an undercover cop. We noticed a conspicuous man with a mustache wearing blue jeans and a plain, gray hoodie who was eavesdropping on our prior conversation about drugs — he must be a plainclothes officer. I think he’s onto us…

I don’t know what happened. This whole evening has turned into a fucking nightmare.

Dexter, Seven, and I returned to the hotel at 4:00 AM. It was miraculous we didn’t end up mangled, left for dead in a gutter somewhere along a scummy part of the public beach with our throats slit from ear to ear and our tongues pulled out (this is called a “Colombian necktie”).

I wished that instead of going clubbing, I had gone to the beach alone and slept under the stars, away from the chaos, cynicism, and nihilism.

Fuck it all.

13. RONALD REAGAN IS DEAD (AND WE HAVE KILLED HIM)

A common rallying cry for steadfast conservatives during Obama’s Presidency was: “We need a CAPITALIST in the White House!” It’s no wonder a billionaire like Trump won. One of Trump’s biggest appeals was his cutthroat businessman style. “He tells it like it is!” “It ain’t easy being a hard ass, but SOMEBODY’S gotta do it!”

I admired this perspective. I believe the country should run less on arbitrary ideological lines and more on the principles of what will make the nation prosper. Perhaps Trumpism could be just the right implementation of private sector governance which was absent from the federal government. I envisioned government employees as trustees of the country acting on behalf of their stockholders — the American citizens. Maybe this is what Reagan meant by “privatization.”

However, a corporate raider has no political ideology or moral compass — only the goal to ensure a profit.

It’s not “Morning in America” anymore.

As voters became skeptical of free market policies, the economic school of thought known as “neoliberalism” became subject to criticism from both the left and right. Economic strife in America was ignored for the sake of the global market — but at what cost? Young people adopted a new moniker for it: “Late-Stage Capitalism.”

The Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street movements were the first major outcries against the status quo, but the movements wouldn’t blossom until the rise of Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders, respectively. America saw the rise of populism on both the right and left.

The last forty-five years of neoliberal global order has resulted in the snug intertwining of business and government, each working for the other with the goal of economic growth — at any cost. Ronald Reagan ushered in this era of privatization, tax cuts, and austerity — an ideology that still dominates mainstream Republicanism today.

While the fiscal conservatism of mainstream Republicans has been consistently rejected by voters on the national level, Trump’s protectionist message was far more popular with voters. To maintain relevance and continue winning elections, Republicans must cast off the shackles of neoliberal dogmatism (a dogmatism that is artificially pushed by Conservative, Inc.).

The GOP was not always the Party of Reagan, and it doesn’t have to stay trapped in a dogmatic mentality of free market worship. Trump offered Republican voters an alternative with his campaign.

For an entire generation, the Republican Party (and the Democratic Party, to a degree) was dominated by business-minded fiscal conservative legislators and free market policy reports from Reaganite think-thanks like the Heritage Foundation.

In the post-Reagan era, voters no longer place the same trust in the free market. Reagan once said, “Government is the problem,” and Trump responded, “America First.”

In 2016, Donald Trump was running just as much against the Republican Party as he was Hillary Clinton. Throughout the electoral cycle, Trump’s most vocal opposition continually came from his own party, with the GOP establishment proving to be one of his biggest obstacles.

Trump stood out in the 2016 Republican primary because his policy proposals on the campaign trail broke from conventional Republican groupthink. In addition to his views on economics was his foreign policy. Trump was the only skeptic of the foreign policy status quo running in the 2016 Republican primary.

Trump won precisely because he wasn’t a conservative. None of the “principled conservative” candidates running against him would have stood a chance against Hillary Clinton.

Fiscal conservatism is a niche ideology. Polls have told us this for years, yet political consultants continue to shove it down our throats. It’s mostly wealthy voters who identify as “very conservative.” The plain truth is fiscal conservatism is difficult to market to the broader electorate, especially when trying to expand a party coalition. A fiscal conservative has not — and will not — win a national election because these policies don’t have a path to victory.

If voters wanted a fiscally conservative president, they would’ve elected Romney in 2012 or Cruz in 2016. But they didn’t. Instead, they voted for the billionaire populist, Donald J. Trump.

14. POLITICIANS ARE GOD-DAMN WHORES

Republicans and Democrats are full of shit. Political parties exist only to fundraise — the issues are simply set-dressing for winning votes. For example, Republicans have used abortion as a carrot-on-a-stick for decades, promising to overturn Roe v. Wade if you only just donate/vote for them. It’s like Lucy pulling the football away from Charlie Brown. You’d think he’d learn his lesson. I was shocked when the Supreme Court followed through on overturning Roe in 2022.

One of the reasons Congress never accomplishes anything is they’re all too busy fundraising. The pathetic reality of being a Congressman is ~99% of your day is spent fundraising. You’re either meeting with donors/lobbyists or chained to your phone, “dialing for dollars.” Congressmen run for re-election every two years, so they’re constantly campaigning and have little time for reading the bills they vote on. Most of them don’t give a fuck about passing legislation, they just want a cushy committee assignment. Some of them just want an apartment in D.C. so they can be away from home and cheat on their spouses. The hustle is straightforward: spend a few terms in Congress rubbing elbows and then become a lobbyist (a former Congressman can easily “earn” a salary over $1 million, depending on their committee assignments).

All politicians, not just Congressmen, are a bunch of cocksuckers. They’ll make you holla for a dolla. All of them are god-damn whores.

No sleep.

I picked up my discarded khakis from last night and a dozen cigarette lighters dropped out of the pockets. Dexter was blinded from how bloodshot his eyes were — bright lights gave him disturbing spasms. Chloe awoke to a $188 Uber ride charged to her company credit card (I don’t blame her; I shamelessly used mine for all sorts of extracurricular purchases). Seven was missing — we had no idea where he was (possibly drugged by the libertarians?).

The President’s keynote speech from last night was already making the rounds on the national news circuit that morning. I flipped through the channels. Everybody was talking about it, but no one had anything to say.

And of course, thundering above all the other chatter was Trump as usual. Throughout the colorful history of political bullshit, Trump’s talent for long-winded bloviation remains unmatched. He could spew crack-babble like a corruption-riddled college fraternity treasurer with a stable coke habit.

The facts were distorted at best, scarce at worst. There should’ve been plenty of juicy content for the media vultures to pick apart.

How was The Big Speech? What did He say about The Impeachment? What was His Message to The Largest Gathering of Young Conservatives Ever?

It doesn’t matter. Who gives a fuck.

Everybody has lost their fucking minds.

Long flight home. I had a connecting flight in Chicago, where my plane got stuck on the runway for two hours. I spent my layover next to a little girl who was playing-pretend as an airplane — running in circles around me with her arms stretched out like wings, vocalizing, “Vroom-vroom-vroom-vroom!”

When I landed in Ohio, the night was opaque with fog. There was no trace of the snow from the morning I departed — it all melted overnight in true Midwestern fashion.

At last, I arrived home after midnight. I needed a long, therapeutic shower. All I wanted was to soak, boil, and peacefully drown in isolation, cloaked behind a white-hot veil of steam. Afterward, I crashed and fell asleep right away. I slept for sixteen hours straight.

It felt like I’d been in West Palm Beach for months — yet my unsettling excursion down south was like a distant, traumatic memory.

After returning from Florida, I wore only black clothing. Every day was a funeral for my love of politics. My time in Florida left me confused about my career, my future, politics, and life in general. My dirty dalliance with politics had ended.

I went to Florida full of blissful idealism. But following my return home, I rediscovered an edge — a renewed chip-on-the-shoulder demeanor. I couldn’t help but think of my life in absolutes: before West Palm Beach, and after. I was paranoid. I couldn’t shake the feeling that black trucks were tailing me anywhere I went. Once you start noticing unmarked police cars, you can’t stop seeing them everywhere, and you question just how much scrutiny we live under.

As terrifying as unmarked police cars are, an even worse possibility crossed my mind: what if they were rogue mercenaries impersonating federal agents, creeping around the country, illegally arresting law-abiding citizens, sweeping them off to sinister, extrajudicial black sites, and conducting enhanced interrogations, experimental lobotomies, and forced penis-inversion surgeries.

I felt encapsulated in the middle of a shadowy vortex with a voracious appetite. Devouring everything in its path, the vortex tried in vain to alleviate its insatiable gluttony, but no matter how much of my life this wicked cyclone consumed, it was never satisfied. That was the sum of my existence at the darkest times — trapped at the epicenter of a colossal, swirling black hole of chaos that swallowed up anyone I got too close to.

I recalled the sheer panic of the other night. The panic was so severe that I literally ran away, fearful and trembling. I called my therapist to talk me down from the panic, but I think subconsciously I called because I knew they were the only person who could change my mind about haphazardly quitting on the spot and flying home that night (or simply just running away and saying goodbye to my old life, never to speak to my family, friends, or colleagues ever again).

I wanted to give up on politics altogether. My fantasy of quitting in a fit of blind rage was a comforting thought that helped me cope.

There is no retirement plan in politics. If you work in politics, you will always be on the lookout for your next job. When the polls close on Election Day, your entire future is up in the air. Once when I was a campaign manager, I bet on the wrong horse and found myself unemployed overnight and stuck in a strange city with six more months of a lease I no longer needed. There are no job benefits either, which makes campaign politics a young man’s game. If you don’t even know what your next career move will be, how could you possibly have an endgame in sight? I don’t have it in me to sell out. I just can’t accept that sort of nihilistic fate. But surely there had to be an out for me that didn’t involve the disgrace of scandal or arrest.

Initially, I opted to tough it out and stick with the job, at least for the time being. I felt like an enabling, battered wife: the vicious cycle of swearing I wouldn’t let them treat me this way ever again, I was leaving this time for real — only to excuse and rationalize my abuse the next morning.

But the job continued to be a ritual humiliation. So, when I finally saw the opportunity to leave, I jumped on it. My only professional experience was in politics, but the time had come for me to pivot. I completed a post-baccalaureate paralegal program, got a job at a big law firm, and I’m currently preparing for law school. Surprisingly, big law is a less cruel world than politics.

I’m so happy I made the switch from politics to law. It’s been the best decision in my life, and I haven’t looked back since.

EPILOGUE: CAMPAIGN TRAIL 2020

Westerville, Ohio — Field staff for President Trump’s re-election campaign recently hosted an activist rally featuring Congressman Jim Jordan (R-OH). Congressman Jordan addressed a sizeable audience, speaking in favor of the President. The event drew a large crowd of central Ohio’s most enthusiastic conservative activists, with the intent of hyping up the grassroots base as campaign activity escalates into the end of summer.

The campaign event — “MAGA Meetup with Jim Jordan!” — was advertised online under this description: “Jim Jordan is the featured speaker at our MAGA Meetup at Ohio Trump Victory Headquarters this Thursday. We are looking to have a big turnout for the Cngressman!” [sic.]

So, what exactly is a “MAGA meetup?” The ticket registration link offered more details:

“MAGA Meet-Ups are gatherings of Trump Victory supporters in your neighborhood. MAGA Meet-Ups play a pivotal role in organizing your local community to help Keep America Great. They help us connect with other supporters in the area and recruit new volunteers who are ready to re-elect President Donald J. Trump and Republicans across America.”

I wanted to experience this event first-hand. Other than the staffers, I was one of the only young people in attendance. While there were a few groups of high school or college students present, most of the audience consisted of the 50+ age demographic. It was a boomer’s paradise.

There was a line to get into the campaign office suite. Before granting entry to attendees, campaign staffers asked everyone to sign-in, which really meannt collecting your contact info so they can spam your email inbox.

Inside there were boomers as far as the eye can see — activist boomers, no less. The venue was packed tight. Sweat dribbled from my forehead. I don’t like feeling trapped in crowds.

Ten minutes before the speech, one of the staffers instructed us to chant “FOUR MORE YEARS” when Jim came out. Fifteen minutes past the scheduled start-time, Congressman Jordan appeared front-and-center (we all remembered to chant despite Jim being casually late).

In his speech, Congressman Jordan made the case for Trump’s re-election: “I wish every American could spend one-on-one time with our President… He’s so charismatic, but the thing I like best about our President is that he does what he says!”

Congressman Jordan also touted some of Trump’s accomplishments as President such as moving the embassy to Jerusalem, as well as citing the later Jobs Numbers. And he’s finally building the wall!!! (It’s totally happening, guys!)

Congressman Jordan’s speech also addressed the
Crazy Leftist Mob. Riots! Looting! Chaos! He even mentioned the insanity of “Cancel Culture.” He concluded his thoughts on this subject by referencing an old quote regarding the Culture War: “Every morning when I wake up, I read the New York Times and the Bible, so I can see what both sides are up to today.” Classic Conservative, Inc.

I’ve written before, during the 2018 election, about how this is a winning campaign rhetoric strategy for Congressional Republican candidates. It seems this rhetoric and language has been poll-tested, focus-grouped, and work-shopped to perfection. I expect to keep hearing this bit from more Republicans on the campaign trail, either as Trump surrogates or candidates themselves.

Next, Congressman Jordan briefly spoke on the COVID-19 pandemic:

“The virus we’re dealing with, which is in fact very real, and we have to take precautions but why does that mean that we can’t go back to work? Or let our kids back into school? Or we can’t let people attend funerals for their loved ones? Or, come on…we can’t have college football?!”

The crowd loved this final bit. Buckeyes football reigns supreme in Ohio, especially central Ohio. Jim is an Ohio State alum, he knows his audience well, but I don’t think he intended for some audience members to make the connection to Republican Governor Mike DeWine’s cautious quarantine re-opening and the Big Ten’s ultimately canceled fall 2020 football season.

A shout from the crowd: “Jim Jordan for Governor!”

The campaign flew into crisis management mode — people planted in the audience begin chanting: “GO, JIM, GO!” — seamlessly spinning focus back to how much we LOVE Jim Jordan. Politics never changes.

Heed my warning, readers: stay the hell away from politics!!!

ADDENDUM: ADDITIONAL GRIEVANCES

Listed here are other injustices incurred (not otherwise detailed in this manuscript):

· I organized a speaking event for a high-profile figure, but protestors showed up, and I was falsely accused of self-sabotaging my own event under the threat of being “BLACKLISTED” from Conservative, Inc.

· One of my bosses set my review metrics higher (number of new student groups formed) than anybody else because a prominent donor wanted us to add more chapters in my territory.

· During the 2022 election cycle, I went to a campaign event for J.D. Vance, but I was mistaken for a Democrat tracker (i.e., spy) and chased out of the event for trying to take a photo. Mind you, this was an event I was personally invited to by the campaign.

· Once when my metrics were low, my boss sent a reply-all email to the entire staff telling me to submit my weekly reports in Comic Sans font (humiliating me in front of all my coworkers).

· I had to keep track of how many students I registered for the event in West Palm Beach, but when I closed on a lead, they would credit someone else for it and accuse me of trying to take credit from somebody else.

· I was forced to mediate petty drama between college kids. One of my students threw a nuclear fit because he wanted to be president of the chapter. I was constantly making a three-hour drive to their college to sit him down like a petulant child. That little shit even tried to get me fired.

· When I was a campaign manager, the Speaker of the Ohio House of Representatives (my boss’ boss’ boss) was forced to resign after the FBI raided his home looking for evidence of payday lending scams. Shortly thereafter, his successor to the Speakership was arrested by the FBI in connection with a $60 million bribery scheme; recently a jury delivered guilty verdicts to him as well as the former chairman of the state Republican Party.

· I didn’t know where else to include this, but there is an alarming emergence of anti-college sentiment in the conservative movement. More than ever, conservative personalities are urging young people to skip college. I believe this is somehow linked to the cult of homeschooling. I worked with someone who was homeschooled — he couldn’t spell and didn’t understand grammar. This anti-intellectual movement will have consequences down the line.

· And worst of all, I was treated like a freak for being a freethinker.