So I picked up the new book in the series of courtroom dramas that I’ve been reading for 20 years, right? Twenty years I’ve been following the series. It’s a yearly ritual that I get a new installment in the series. It’s a quiet, inoffensive form of enjoyment. I introduced N to these books at the beginning of our relationship, and we have some endearing memories of reading them together and traveling to the place where the novels are set. We went to the protagonist’s favorite restaurant and ordered his favorite bottle of wine. It’s cute like that.
And then, like so many other things, the series were killed for me by the Trump derangement syndrome. The most recent novel is a pro-open borders, abolish ICE, sanctuary cities forever screed that I didn’t have to wait for a year to get released. I could have watched it on MSNBC 24 hours a day, if I were into that.
What’s next? My favorite brand of apples will have anti-Trump slogans carved into them? We’ll have to recite a pledge of allegiance to the values of multiculturalist progressivism to be able to get on campus? The only way to unlock our phones would be to spit on a picture of Trump? You won’t be served a drink at a bar before you repeat three times “I renounce MAGA hats and deplore everybody who wears them”?
I need to use the bathroom but I’m putting it off because I’m afraid it will talk to me in Rachel Maddow’s voice and use the word collusion a lot.