Dump Trump! Vote Whig!

CAMBRIDGE, MA — Horatio “Rolling” Clay is not gathering moss.

“This is our time!” he shouts down from the balcony to the crowded common area of Harvard’s toney Smith Center.

“Trump will tear the GOP in two!” he thunders. “It doesn’t get any better than this!”

A yellow flag billows behind him, the strong fans providing the breezes gusting it artfully placed just beyond the viewer’s eye. It’s a striking flag, almost surely an homage to the mythic DON’T TREAD ON ME flag of the Revolutionary War era — arguably the first flag of the US Marine Corps — before being repurposed by the modern Tea Party and, most recently, the January 6 insurrectionists.

Homage or not, this flag — the standard of the New Whig Party — is the first national party flag to feature a plant as a mascot, rather than an animal. Instead of a donkey or elephant, the New Whigs banner features a bright green cannabis leaf. A slogan adorns the flag’s bottom, like its historical forebear, this one bearing the words “DON’T CRUSH THE BUD” in the same bright green hue.

“We are the future, not the GOP!” Clay cries. “We are the true Conservatives, capital C! Not the Trump ass-lickers, like the Republicans!”

Rolling is referring to the news that former President Donald J Trump is a featured speaker at this year’s Conservative Political Action Conference. Clay expects Trump to “trot out all the usual bullshit” about election fraud and, thus, make it impossible for the Grand Old Party to move on.

He pauses on the balcony now, as if for dramatic effect. His closely cropped hair, just dusting an Izod pullover dark brown sweater — artfully sporting a bare neck rather than the typical button-down collar — radiates confidence, casual wealth, entitlement, as does his brilliant smile.

A sea of upturned faces gaze at him, almost adoringly and — in the cases of a few young coeds — almost assuredly. One wonders where Rolling will pillow his head this evening.

“Do you want to lick Trump’s ass?” he bellows. Gasps and embarrassed laughter break out down below, broken up by an arch, “I would.” That sea of faces turns in an instant to a girl sitting at a table in the middle of the floor. Bottle blonde, breasts impossibly large for such a slim frame, the same entitled smile, this one arched with a naughty leer.

A plant?

Either way, Rolling takes the focus right back. “You can have it! Just check his heels for toilet paper.” The crowd erupts with laughter.

Today marks the inaugural gathering of the New Whigs, affectionately nicknamed Whigs 2.0 by its supporters. Indeed, the party’s platform seems custom designed to appeal to students: legalization of marijuana, free college tuition, net neutrality, even free vaping.

Clay rides their attention as his fist hammers the railing in front of him. “They could have done it, the GOP! They could have dumped the crook before he puts on a suit even oranger than his spray tan. But, they didn’t! They freaked out!”

“Milksop Mitch McConnell saw the verdict of history opening at his feet, and he choked! And now, his party is going to pay for it! Next month, March 20th, the GOP turns 167. After their top guy gets sent to Sing Sing, I doubt they will see their 168th birthday.”

Rolling raises his hands to quiet a growing murmuring, before continuing, “What you’re seeing is a grand reversal in American history. The Republican Party replaced the old Whigs. And, now…”

He pauses, his hands clenching into fists. “The New Whigs are taking it all right back!”

A number of voices at the edge of the crowd start a chant. “Whig! Whig! Whig!” As if on cue, one can see other students handing out clipboards and pens. Clay may be Gen Z, but he’s apparently old school analog when it comes to lining up volunteers.

Then, too, considering the ease with which he has just executed an impressive performance during what appears to be a maiden political speech, one cannot help but be impressed with his grasp of logistics.

Nevertheless, after an endless round of shaken hands and hugs, while he downs a venti caramel latte, I interrupt his extolling the virtues of pot consumption — “Obesity is a national scandal! ⅕ of all healthcare spending goes to it! Do you know how many calories are in a shot of single malt?!” — to ask the question burning inside me.

Only to be cut off mid-stride. Asked if the Whigs will end up as the Tea Party did, Clay snorts, “As yard-sign soldiers for the plutocrats? Nothing doing. The GOP is going the way of the dodo bird. Cancun Cruz and Hee Haw Hawley led the way. We’re the future, not them.”

With that, he’s off and running on protecting net neutrality.

One wishes him well.