A theory: You’re not afraid of fascism.

You’ve been marinating in real fascism half your life or more. It’s comfortable.

It’s even comforting. Fascism signed your paycheck, and paid your mortgage and just maybe it relieved your children of all student debt.

What you’re actually worried about is called populism, sometimes also referred to as a functional democracy.

Wherein there are more voting truck drivers, more voting fry cooks, out there in the deplorable flyover, than there are well-composed and college-educated good people like you. And the ‘Hispanics’, of course, who were supposed to be voting in a bloc with you and redefining the electorate, instead of turning their coats and reverting to their generally native and naturalistic conservatism from Miami to San Diego.

They want more of the Donald and every time he takes another indictment, sure, you’re cheering–but his poll numbers go up, again.

The moral is a moral of inevitability.

We of the Empire spend all our money spreading this alleged democracy at the barrel of a gun all over the world. We pour it into the Ukrainian proto-demos, a place where they have a very real kill list, opposition parties are banned, the news is banned unless it’s state-approved, and where the President puppet just announced that next year’s elections are cancelled, because, you know, Russia bad.

They’re going to have an election next year in Russia though.

And before you start pontificating at me about how rigged it will be, talk to one average Russian, or look at one poll, or at least confess knowing that our own sovereign elections are substantially less than pure–to say nothing of the elections we routinely rig in other countries, such as the one in that very Ukraine in 2014.

Meanwhile at home that same democracy rotted away to nothing. Yes, under Bush and Reagan. But just as fast or faster under Clinton, and Gitmobama, and the crackhead Hunter and his dirty dad, the Big Guy of Ten Percent fame. Sure, you can vote. For Kodos or for Kang! For Frick, or for Frack. They’re all paid for already by people who make in an hour what you make in a year.

You are the frog and the saucepan she’s up to a rolling boil and still you cheer each time the MAGA guy takes another shovel to the face from the DOJ or some other arm of the justice! system equally crawling with corrupt filth maggots who went to the best universities.

You’re cheering for the subversion of the will of the people. Those bad redneck hicks over there with all the guns and all the babies. Well, the allegedly white babies, at least.

Have a real good time there with your hootin’ and hollerin’ and slapping each other blue on the back.

I’ll be down the dry shit creek with no paddle and a twenty-year-old pair of hiking boots.

See ya when I see ya, up around the bend or down at the bottom of the flashing flood.