When The Disease Of Republicanism Strikes Your Own Family

-by Exile Johnny On most days, either my wife or I, or both of us, take our dog for a walk around 3 PM. I also try to visit my mom once a week, and this afternoon we decided to make a trip to Yonkers to kill two birds with one stone since a trip to Florida is fast approaching. Mom also has a nice fig tree so the visit gave me an opportunity to pick some fresh figs before the first frost hits. When we got there, one of my first cousins was there visiting. She's in her mid 70s, lives alone in the giant house she grew up in, has not worked in many years, and, I'm certain she is quite comfortable financially. I had heard from my sister a couple of times previously that my cousin is very far to the right and quite opinionated (and this is coming from my sister who is not in any way a liberal herself). We were there for about 8-10 minutes before, not surprisingly, my cousin asked how my kids were doing. When the subject of my son teaching music nearby came up, she asked something in the way of "Does he have anything to do with that CRT baloney?" We were off and running! My sister, never one to let me or anyone else get a word in edgewise, jumped in to ask what CRT is, and to persuade my cousin to keep the subject off politics. Next thing we know, my cousin was conflating CRT with "gender politics" and spewing on about teachers and schools trying to convince kids to change their genders and get operations. The next 5 minutes or so was me telling my cousin that she's being brainwashed and all the stuff she's going on about is made up, not a real thing. I couldn't help but tell her that I am out living and working in a world of reality while she is living in the cartoon world of FOX News. Lord knows if she even heard any of what I said, as her and my sister were shouting at each other the entire time. I tried to tell her that I worked in several states and that my son works with hundreds of high school students and had never seen any of what she was going on and on about. Things then calmed down slightly, for a brief moment, with my cousin mumbling over and over again that we didn't know what we were talking about. She rested on what she thought was an obvious point and said "Well, at least you have to admit that you don't like the socialist direction the country is moving in and wouldn't vote for Biden again." When I responded with, "Well of course I would," she jumped out of her seat and said she had to leave. I said we were leaving anyway and left her and my sister there to slug it out which I'm sure they did through dinner later that night. My wife and I know there are millions of FOX News zombies just like my cousin out there. But, the experience we had today was the most first hand altercation we'd had with the total package of ignorance and vitriol. We were actually both a bit shaken.

An Editor's Note From Noah: When Exile Johnny first told me this story, I knew as it went on that it was worthy of posting. He's not the only one in this position and the holidays are almost upon us. My next thought was along the lines of that if only he'd had a Joe Biden mask. He could have put it on and gotten right in her face, six inches away, with it as he proclaimed that he would vote for Biden. I also thought of Johnny's poor mom, a 90 something woman having to witness such family drama and try to make some sort of sense of it. Anyway, I told him the sad truth that there's nothing he could ever say to his cousin because, as I always say, these poor souls are so far gone that they're never coming back to sanity, not even close. The sad reality is that her mind is gone and I made reference to "Invasion Of The Body Snatchers" meets Colin Wilson's "Mind Parasites." I asked how she is any different from the Tony Perkins character in "Psycho" and stated that what he experienced is a total manifestation of the evil of Tucker Calson and his ilk. I think at this point that I should tell Johnny that, if I was in his or his sister's place, I would disown the lunatic and shun her permanently. Let her stew in her own fetid juices. Let her spend all day writing letters of complaint to the objects of her ire until she wears herself out and dies at the keyboard, not found until she is dust. She's way along that path anyway.