Sean Hannity, Keurig Drinker

A patriot and his coffee

The month’s biggest bombshell, ladies and gentlemen, is that Sean Hannity is the owner of five — five! — Keurig coffee machines.

Sean Hannity Says Don't Smash Your Keurig Machine. And He's Got 5 of Them

When I heard that America’s greatest patriot, Sean Patrick Hannity, takes comfort in the warmth of a Keurig brew, I knew had to investigate further. I needed to find out if he really lived this way.

Since Sean is such a pro, I realized from the start that it was not going to be easy to gain access to his home set up. A plan was hatched: I deployed a bald eagle surveillance asset to fly around his house. But how would the bird get himself inside?

Easy — as soon as Sean saw it, he would deduce that the sheer magnetism of his patriotic fervor has led the bird to find him, and he would open his doors to it the same way he would open his doors to America itself. Freedom, in other words, would not even need to ring; freedom would be automatically welcomed.

The plan worked. The asset was safely inside, recording video while flying. What I saw took my breath away.

Sean told the truth when he said he had five Keurig machines. In fact, he has strategically placed one in each trophy room. Do you think this choice is by accident? Sean Hannity has won so many awards he has lost count. You need some caffeine in you to soak them all in. But we’ve got miles—not kilometers—to go before we sleep.

What also impressed me was Sean’s workout room. Colin Kaepernick would not be able to train here. The playlist is a 90-minute loop of the national anthem. What were you expecting: DJ Khaled? Imagine Sean Hannity getting amped to someone whose name suggests he should be an al-Qaeda operative. Would never happen.

In terms of home exercise, it’s clear Sean puts in serious work. He runs on a platform off in the corner affectionately labeled “Don’t Treadmill On Me.” But it’s when he gets to lifting that the real power comes out. I saw him do a tricep curl while his other hand was positioned firmly and patriotically over his chest. Remember, the anthem is continually playing. Muscles bulging as the troops are saluted. Didn’t a “Mission Accomplished” banner unfurl in our collective hearts as we witnessed this?

In his home theater, only one movie ever plays: Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York. In fact, he only ever allows the film’s first scene. This choice confounds his guests — isn’t Sean Irish? And don’t the Irish get routed in the movie’s opening sequence? Yes, but you forget who opposed them: it was the American nativists. Scorsese’s great epic has served as a running reminder to Sean about the plight of the American-born. In fact, both components of his identity are affirmed: the Irish fighting spirit is eulogized, and the jealous hoarding of America on the part of the nativists is also joyously shown.

Next up was the kitchen. It was there that I saw the five Keurig boxes stacked on top of each other, a kind of Washington Monument to coffee. With an aesthetic we might describe as Guy Fieri chic, and with DACA-inspired favorites such as Corona beer blissfully and permanently out of stock, Sean ensured that this space would function as a microcosm of Real America.

Yet it was when my eagle drone flew into the living room that I knew something remarkable happened. It was as if a permanent aura, made of Ronald Reagan’s transfigured ashes, enveloped the eagle in a kind of conservative force field.

Here was Sean himself. He was on his couch, on the phone, having what appeared to be a heated conversation.

No, you listen up. Your assistant made the remark during the “UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU TO SPEAK TO OR EVEN LOOK AT SEAN” block in my daily schedule, which is very clearly printed on my dressing room door, in English only of course.

There was a pause.

Yeah, the sign stays up all day — so, what? You think the Fox bigwigs will say anything to me? They’re not gonna say anything to me. I own them. Who do you think pays the bills around here? Tucker? The guy who used to wear bow ties on television like some kind of conservative professor? WHAT THE HELL IS A CONSERVATIVE PROFESSOR?

He continued. Eyes ablaze. The same fire that founded a nation in 1776. He was letting the other guy have it.

Let the liberals have the academic institutions. I know guys who majored in hard knocks. I know guys who majored in Heartland Studies. I know guys who went to Real America U — and afterwards went to Trump U for a doctorate. You get what I’m saying? You don’t need a bowtie for those studies, I’ll tell you that.

Even after he hung up, Sean was still livid. It’s not hard to see why.

Here is a man of understanding — a man who listens, who truly listens. Even when he’s talking over a guest, he’s listening. When he tells a guest, “You’re ruining America,” that doesn’t stem from too little empathy but from too much of it.

Yet the media elites have never given him any respect. They’ve never understood why he gets more viewers than they do.

Could it be that it’s because he loves freedom so intensely, so recklessly, that the American people notice and respond positively to it? Could it be that it’s because he’s made it his life’s mission to combat progressive propaganda?

Every segment on his show is an opportunity to trigger the libs. Every report is an oracle, a summoning of Madison, an ecstatic recreation of the Federalist Papers set to Francis Scott Key’s heartbeat.

And they absolutely hate him for it.

After his phone call, Sean went over to his command desk, also known as the U.S.S. Constitution. What I saw on his computer screen perfectly captured Sean’s strategic role within the right-wing ecosystem. He played a clip of a segment that will soon appear on his show.

Was this some kind of weather report? Surely Fox is not going to ask Hannity to start doing forecasts, I thought. But I kept watching.

With the “Hannity” sign in the background, a liberal climatologist (aren’t they all?) stood next to Sean, with a spinning globe positioned between the two men. Sean pointed to the globe and asked the scientist a simple question: “Is climate change really happening here?” Without hesitating, the guest said “Yes.”

That was it. Sean had him.

When the globe finally stopped spinning, the scientist’s jaw visibly dropped. He couldn’t believe it. The globe was a model of Mars, not Earth. He just discredited himself bigly.

I was spellbound. This is Sean Patrick Hannity. You’re gonna come on his show and spew that liberal garbage about climate change? Not in Trump’s America you’re not.

This is the land of the free.

For eight long years Barack Hussein Obama tried his hardest to systematically destroy America. But the election of Trump has changed all that — an arrival so thrillingly glorious it’s as if patriot archangels had a Tea Party on the roof of Trump Tower.

And now we’re all bathing in a love of country.

Do you remember what happened the first time we had ourselves a Tea Party? Once we made the decision to boycott tea, coffee became the colonists’ new drink of choice.

Now, in this new moment we find ourselves, with the Bernie and Hillary left coming for your guns, and the NeverTrump establishment wanting to tattoo McConnellism into the very soul of Washington, D.C., do you want to know what Sean says?

Let the Keurig cups flow.