Ah, Inverness. Such a beauty. I can see the cabin. I can almost get a whiff of that fresh, clean air. Your memory calls to mind some of my own. I enjoy reminiscing. After all, it’s much easier than predicting the future.
Reading your characterization of Brexit and the election of Trump, you refer to them as convulsions. I thought to myself, what condescension in choice of wording. Surely these are nothing short of a mass movement — possible consequences aside. I mean to call them convulsions really shows how superior you must feel, how much more intelligent you fancy yourself to be than those that would choose a thing like Brexit. And it’s quite informative.
And following Trump’s election you say were despondent, even disoriented for weeks. How could decent people allow such a thing to happen? But you see, it’s okay, because you’ve thought about it. You know what ought to be done, and you know what ought to be thought. Because you’re decent and well oriented. Those people who vote to go their own way are not sensible, they’re just desperate. Unlike you. You just happen to be the most sensible and the most forward thinking. Those “convulsions” are just symptoms of a dying worldview — the worldview opposite your own. Trump is not a man, but a symptom, like that of a disease. But it’s okay, because you can medicate our disease, and liberate us from our folly. You have the right ideas, and you can give us hope.
To you, this whole troupe of conservative men and women of all races are just poor, misguided saps of people. But I can assure you, it is a movement, and they have passions of their own. Not just dreams of the past, but dreams of an astounding future. They are far from being the weak, disaffected souls you take them to be. They have ideas just like you do, Mr. California elitist. There are conservative men and women with vivid, magnificent and very creative dreams of a future that they certainly have the will to manifest. I know it because I have seen them, and I relish their cunning and bravery. They have the courage to go against big-picture elitists like you who sound the alarms from their ivory towers of liberal self-aggrandizement at the first sign of opposition. They jeer at you cowardly, slimy eels of men who know not the struggles of true adversity. Unlike you, they have had to claw their way up from the very bottom in an infinite hailstorm of sneers and insults, and this is the point where they have scaled your ivory gates, and they are looking you up and down with hungry, insatiable eyes. They are ready to bite.
These brave conservatives, not those pudgy-fingered, fat-lipped Republicans, but the real carriers of the conservative torch of liberty, see through your veneer of self-righteousness. As you sit there, musing and larping, weak and pathetic, there they stand, strong and capable, ready to consume you. You can fancy all you want, conjure up your little fantasies, act as if you really understand what the future holds. But these people see you, they see what you stand for, and they see through it. I see through it. I know that this pretentious writing of yours is nothing more than a cover for the fear you feel. Not the fake fear you flaunt to your colleagues in your echo chamber in order to score social points. What you will feel is real fear, and it will be the fear that follows the knowledge of self-betrayal, because you will realise that in your prancing about, putting on airs in your ivory tower, you denied reality and worst of all, you denied yourself.
The truth is you know nothing about the future, can predict nothing, and care to know nothing. You are only looking to ease your discomfort by role-playing as the righteous superior, and fantasizing about the fall of conservatism. Dreaming of a world where everyone finally thinks like you. But I assure you, it is fantasy, and the price you will pay for it in the end will be more than real. Conservatism is not dead, but the former glory of the elite left is.