Crashing Under the Fourth Wave

Professional Democrats, like the proverbial dog who returns to his vomit, cannot quit the idea that their grotesque caricatures of those who hold traditional views of marriage and family, men and women, borders and citizenship, and meaningful employment will appeal to enough of the electorate to return control of the government to them.

Donald Trump co-opted many of the Democrats’ middle-class voters by working to improve the economy and national security, yet Democrats cling to their pink labial hats and identity politics ever fiercely.  Within the cloisters of Washington, D.C., and New York media centers, this grit and determination gives them the odor of sanctity, the aura of holiness.  Every headline, editorial, and monologue drips with sanctimony, begging Americans to come to their senses, open their eyes, and admit that they are living in the Third Reich.  Every good but historically unremarkable thing Trump does (cutting taxes, deporting illegal aliens) is presented as the Final Solution of the week, and let us all stand with Gary Oldman and cry “Time’s up,” our fists held high in defiance of Hitler.

Rather than ease up on their rhetoric, the professional Democrats double down.  On one level, they cannot help themselves.  They are victims of their own ideology, addicted to the very crack they are selling.  They are riding the Fourth Wave of feminism and cannot...

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