Patriotism is Irrepressible
Undiluted, unapologetic America First policies are the only way the US survives. That said, it would be short-sighted of us to ignore the nation's place within a global uprising of patriots.
I think every dissident from the mainstream Covid narrative – at least, every dissident living in a virus-crazed corner of America – knows the feeling well. You’re going about your day, just trying to ride the alternating waves of isolation and despair, when, miracle of miracles, you find yourself in conversation with someone who has managed to remain similarly sane.
Perhaps it’s a cheerfully maskless gas station attendant.
Maybe you overhear some waitresses complaining about the hypochondriacs disinfecting the cutlery at table seven.
It might be nothing more than a glance from the occupant of the neighboring barstool but in that glance can be recognized the same indignation, the same sense of disbelief and impotent, all-consuming rage that has clouded every one of your last twenty-something months, and before you know it, the pair of you are laughing away like school buddies, joking about the good old days and discussing the viability of secession.
I recently had one such experience. Following the birth of our daughter, it was decided by my wife, in her infinite and benevolent wisdom, that the only way to properly mark such a occasion was with a commemorative portrait. Admittedly, I can not understand now, any more than I could understand then, why anyone would require a twice-life-sized likeness of a infant whose squalling, balling actuality can be seen right there in front of them but nevertheless, being the indulgent husband I am, I acquiesced on the same condition I acquiesce to all family purchases – that our money stays out of the hands of liberal fuckwits.
And remarkably, in our bluest of blue towns, my wife managed just that. No sooner had I walked into the frame shop to collect the finished product than I was greeted by the opening chords of Ted Nugent’s Cat Scratch Fever and the bold, defiant yellow of the Gadsden Flag. A quick scan of the other banners showed they stocked both TRUMP 2024 as well as the memetic juggernaut that is Let’s go Brandon, while approaching the counter, I was welcomed, far more reservedly than one might imagine, by a man whose T-shirt was emblazoned with the words 1776, bitches.
Needless to say, Ted and I hit it off immediately. There are days, I think most of us can acknowledge, when merely attending to the tasks of life, burdened by the weight of what we know, can seem unendurable. Hell, Sunday with the in-laws is fraught at the best of times, let alone when they refuse to drop their vaccine sales pitch, and I could tell, for all his image of rugged individualism, that Ted was as grateful for an ally as I was.
“Whole goddamned country’s been pussified,” he said, apparently unconcerned with the second party of window shoppers his commentary had driven away. “That’s the goddamned problem. Parents ship ‘em off to college, bankrupt themselves to keep ‘em there, and when they come out, half the little assholes are castrated and the other half’s dumber than hell!” He rocked back on his heels as though the truth remained too much to comprehend. “I hate to say it,” he sighed upon a moment’s reflection, “but you might’ve arrived in The States just in time to see the light’s go out. All’s I hope is that things ain’t so messed up back in—” he twiddled a forgetful finger “—back wherever you said you were from.”
I didn’t much respond. Whatever accord Ted and I found on our hang-the-government-and-divvy-up-the-proceeds domestic policy, I couldn’t help but think that, in regard to geopolitical strategy, he might be missing a trick.
Over the last few years, bound by little more than an internet connection and a sense that something was wrong, a group of people from every country on earth have achieved something quite remarkable – they have, for the first time, pieced together an image of the kind of individuals who rule us. Indeed, such corruption and depravity did they uncover that the resultant outcry was enough to provide the initial thrust behind movements as disparate as Trump and The Yellow Vests, Brexit and Bolsonaro, but now, with the rise of Covid tyranny, these ostensibly separate groups are beginning to recognize that they are united not solely by a yearning for freedom, but also by a common and nebulous enemy.
