Kurt unloads so resoundingly on Conservative Inc, I just…can’t even.
Now, it’s not really fair to imply that the Never Trumpers hate Trump solely because he’s vulgar and crude – or, as normal people see it, unwilling to meekly take the guff the Never Trumpers’ country club class pals dish out like a proper gentleman should. They do find him aesthetically displeasing, but it also gnaws at them because every time he stands up to the garbage Democrats, the garbage press, or the garbage jerks and pervs of Hollywood, his refusal to knuckle-under reminds Team Fail that they don’t have the stones to do the same. He shames their cowardly weakness.
It’s clear, in retrospect, that George W. Bush’s supine acceptance of the abuse the elite heaped upon him was not because he was too classy and too decent to respond in kind. Since Obama left office and he rediscovered his vocal cords, Bush has had zero problem trashing Trump and Trump supporters who, like many of us, stood by Bush in the ’00s while Bush was treading water in a sea of mediocrity. No, it’s clear that W was afraid to fight back against fellow members of the ruling class. He cared about being part of the club. Not The Donald. Trump, by fighting, demonstrates that the establishment GOPers are weak. And it eats at them.
But besides providing a manly contrast to their own gimp-like submission to the leftist establishment, Trump infuriates the Never Trumpers for another reason. He’s kicked them out of their comfy sinecures. One of Trump’s magical powers is to make his enemies reveal their own grift complicity, and boy, have they ever. As a result, while once the mandarins of Conservative, Inc., traded on their insider influence and privilege, under Trump they are outsiders. Copies of the Weekly Standard used to be all over the Bush White House. Now, if its inept crew had not slammed it into an iceberg, you would be lucky to find a few pages at the bottom of Barron’s pet iguana’s cage.
Bill Kristol, Max Boot, and all the rest are nobodies, relegated to occasionally joining CNN panels and fighting with Ana Navarro over the doughnuts in the green room. Where’s Bob Corker now? Jeff Flake hasn’t even got an MSNBC gig; I think last week he was the dude who offered to supersize my order.
Pretty stinging bitch-slaps on Bush and the rest of the Koup Klux Klowns, to be sure. But just wait till you get a load of what he has in store for poor ol’ Mittens.
They are reduced to occasionally popping up on Twitter to inspire a session of Weakheart Whack-A-Mole from actual conservatives. Just look at Senator for Some Reason Mitt Romney. The guy I am sorry I voted for in 2012 is always eager to say something prissy about the president to try to please the same people who, back in 2012, accused him of being a racist and giving a lady cancer. For his obedience, he gets a tasty treat and a pat on the head, like the good doggie he is. But everyone knows that if the elite ever thought that the Distinguished Gentleman From Whatever State He Thinks He Can Get Elected In Next might actually pose a threat to the status quo, he’d be figuratively caged up and driven to Canada on the roof.
As Jed Clampett always said: WEEEEEEEELLL DOGGIES! Schlichter really outdoes himself with this bilious, incendiary masterpiece; I must say, I can’t recall ever coming closer to just saying to hell with fair use and reposting the whole dang thing. But I’ll restrain myself, so you can click on over and revel in every righteous word of the original.