Generally, here at the shebeen, we stay clear of obvious nutpicking from the swampy starboard side of the Intertoobz. It's kind of a mug's game. But, Tuesday morning, as it appeared that the comic opera that is the campaign of He, Trump possibly could be coming to its big Act I reveal, there is a plaintive cry from our right that is begging to be heard as widely as possible.

On the other hand, it has been an alarmingly eye-opening phenomenon to millions of ordinary conservative Americans who enjoyed consuming talk radio and the serial works of conservative authors, under the (apparently naive) belief that they meant what they said.

Obviously, we'll have more about the actual event when it actually occurs, but reflect for a moment on the feelings of those "millions of ordinary conservative Americans." They have been enjoying the consumption of indigestible fried nonsense for over 30 years, failing to heed Satchel Paige's warning that fried foods will angry up the blood, and now they've convinced themselves that they live in a world full of existential peril and dread, and that life is one constant string of dark betrayals. Their blood is good and angry-ed up even on its best day, and now this. What can I say?

Hello, suckers.

Charles P. Pierce Charles P Pierce is the author of four books, most recently Idiot America, and has been a working journalist since 1976.

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