JANUARY 26, 2021 – Okay, here I am on a cold Tuesday morning in January, minding my own business, meaning, “working furiously on client matter,” when I catch a break—having just slammed the tennis ball over the net and forcing my opponent (Paul) to chase after the now runaway spheroid.
In the few spare seconds at my disposal, I wipe my brow, take a swig from my water bottle, and check the news.
“Holy s____t!” I’m not talking brow or bottle.
I’m reacting to an opinion piece by Chris Cillizza: “How Oregon just proved Donald Trump isn’t going anywhere.” After reading a few quotes from a recent proclamation by the Oregon Republican Party condemning the 10 House members who voted in favor of impeachment, I forget all about my intense figurative tennis match. I let go of my racket and let it rattle on the court.
“What’s up?” Paul asks, as he prepares to lob the retrieved ball to my side of the net.
“You’re not going to believe this,” I say.
“What, that Republicans are finally finished with Trump?”
“No,” I return, eyes glued to the screen, “quite to the contrary.”
“As in . . . what?”
“As in . . . they’re saying the Capitol riot was a ‘false flag’ operation designed to discredit Trump. “They’re comparing it to the Nazis’ burning of the Reichstag and blaming it on Communists.”
“Holy s___t!” cries Paul.
“That’s what I just said.”
“Whoa!” says Paul. “That’s on top of the Arizona Republican Party censuring its own for not being all Trumped up—even in light of the latest revelations about Trump trying to ‘fix’ the Georgia vote.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I thought Biden’s inauguration would’ve sent all Republicans a clear message—the monster was now officially a loser, a failure, a goner.”
“The crazies are doubling down,” Paul says. “How will we ever be done with utter nonsense?”
“Hey, I have an idea!” I say.
“Tennis?”
“Yeah, that too . . . but another idea. Let’s give Republicans the moon.”
“Huh?” says Paul. “You mean you’d hand them everything? Why on earth would you do that?”
“Not on earth, Paul. I’d actually give them the moon itself, as long as they left earth behind. I’d give them a one-way rocket ship, point at the shining, welcoming orb, and say, ‘Go for it! Go for the moon! Take your ‘Don’t tread on me!’ flags with you, and your guns, your Bibles, your Kool-Aid. Go to a place where you can live in your own falsehoods, unreality, conspiracy theories, and destructive nonsense.”
“Fat chance of that happening,” says Paul.
“What makes you think that?” I say, picking up my racket.
“Don’t you know? Trumpsters think the laws of physics were passed by enemies of democracy. There’s no way they’d believe a rocket could reach the moon.”
“Guess so,” I say. “Ready to resume play with the laws of physics here on the court?”
“Sure,” says Paul. “Just can’t get laws and big gov’m’nt out of our lives, can we?”
(Remember to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.)
© 2021 by Eric Nilsson
