Wingnut Wednesday

Meet my friend Travis.

A secret to my success: lunatics most people run screaming from, I eagerly engage. That’s borne of neurosis—what Frued called “repetition compulsion,” the strange human tendency to seek out situations that reenact past traumas, out of the unconscious fantasy to finally prevail. In my case, to prevail in youthful debates with my late parents, who were particularly thoughtful or open-minded folks. They were often over Israel. (Mom: “They don’t wear signs around their necks that say ‘Good Arab’ or ‘Bad Arab’”). Or basic questions of about social justice generally. (Dad, repeating, I’m guessing, what his own dad told him: “You won’t be thinking like that once you have to made a payroll.”)

I could never have made sense of right-wing racionatizon without having evolved this habit of repeating my actd of adolescent futility, attempting to win arguments with those who can’t much…argue. Here’s an example. Meet MAGA knucklehead named Travis, who, earlier today, betook to share the following insight:

Here’s a exchange we had a little over a year back, in response to Elon Musk feeding USAID through the wood chipper.