“I don’t think there’s anything they wouldn’t do.”

Don Jr reels off so many incredibly tasty, dead-on-the-money quotes in this interview, there’s simply no way I could transcribe them all.  For his part, Tucker fires off plenty of well-aimed shots himself; both of them are top-notch rhetoricians, quick on their feet, and totally at ease under the heat of the bright TV-studio lights—a triple-threat skill set which makes their on-camera interaction truly a delight to behold.

Just watch the whole 38 minutes-plus of it, either here or over at the Renegades joint. Trust me, you won’t regret it. I swear, much as I like his dad—and I surely do, one hell of a lot—whenever I hear Trump the Younger speak about the shitty political situation, it sorta makes me wish he was running instead. The man is astute, articulate, insightful, and on point, each and every time.

Update! It suddenly occurs to me that, although he definitely inherited his father’s fearless, indomitable pugnacity, the most significant distinction between Don Jr’s attitude and his father’s is that, unlike his old man, Don Jr’s own impassioned reverence for ordered liberty American-style doesn’t seem to be adulterated with any of the all-too-common normalcy bias which insists—against all available evidence and the testimony of human history since Rome, at least—that there is still some way that our stolen nation, rights, and liberties can be reclaimed and restored without resort to unstinting, deadly violence against the Goosesteppin’ Left Hell-spawn that robbed us of that incalculably precious inheritance.

Trump Sr, whose abiding love for his country, its Founding ideals, and its people is simply beyond dispute, has been impeded by said normalcy bias. Now, he’s been rolled by the low, ugly expedient of having his unapologetic, heart-on-his-sleeve patriotism used as a weapon against him—by opprobrious, scurvy curs unfit to so much as lick the street-dirt off the soles of his fucking shoes.

As I’ve stubbornly maintained it would since 2016, Donald J Trump’s imperturbable belief in the basic goodness of a nation that long since ceased to exist turned out to be his Achilles’ Heel. Trump’s failure, mind, was not necessarily his fault, or not entirely so. He just couldn’t bring himself to believe that shitlibs might actually loathe America so intensely, that they could possibly be as just plain evil as all that. His credulous, almost child-like faith that, despite our disagreements, we all remain Americans at the end of the day has proved to be his undoing. Utimately, he’s not to be blamed nor despised for that naive, over-optimistic misperception, I don’t think; the Evil Left is.

A day which should never have dawned is now upon us: the dreadful day when faith, trust, belief in the essential decency of our (former) fellow Americans (now more aptly identified as TWANLOCs), and open-hearted patriotism have become weaknesses instead of strengths. It’s a calamity so awful, so horrendous, that a once-proud nation stands to be shattered by it, and that right soon.

I’ve said it so many times: no sane person on Our Side really wants the coming violence, fratricidal strife, and societal upheaval, and with very good reason, too. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean it ain’t gonna happen—clearly, the Left does want it, which means that it will be forced on us, whether we like it or not. If Thursday’s phonus-balonus “conviction” of President Trump hasn’t made that sad fact abundantly clear, I can’t imagine what might.

We have sat on our duffs and watched in incredulous horror as, one by one, the Soap Box, the Ballot Box, and now the Jury Box have proved unequal to the task. We are now left with the last of the Four Boxes as our final, desperate hope. Verily, I wish with all my heart that it wasn’t so. But it is, to our neverending sorrow.