The Absurdity Linings Playbook


If nothing else, Donald Trump and J.D. Vance have at least taught us something: Republicans are no longer even pretending to engage in rational debate.

buy disulfiram online canada They’ve lost the intellectual battles on gender rights, minority rights, gay marriage, global warming, and the war on drugs. Instead of reassessing or reformulating their positions, they’ve pivoted to something far more insidious: they’ve embraced absurdity, not despite its dangers but because of them.

Let’s not mince words. The Republican strategy is one of gleeful ignorance, parading incompetence as a badge of honor. When Marjorie Taylor Greene spews conspiracy theories or when Donald Trump spreads demonstrable lies, it’s not a slip-up—it’s the playbook. This isn’t a party floundering in the face of complexity; it’s a party reveling in the simplicity of outrage.

Their leaders aren’t just out of their depth; they’re drowning in a sea of willful ignorance, pulling their supporters under with them. What’s worse, the base is cheering them on, not in spite of the nonsense but precisely because of it. The more unhinged the rhetoric, the louder the applause.

Why? Because the Republicans have nothing left but rage. They’ve lost the argument on climate change—science is settled, the world is burning, and they’re still clutching coal like a rosary. They’ve lost the argument on LGBTQ+ rights, with public opinion now firmly on the side of equality. They’ve lost the argument on race, as more Americans recognize systemic injustice and demand change.

So what’s left? They’ve decided to scorch the earth. To flood the zone with bullshit. If they can’t win a debate, they’ll make debate itself impossible. It’s a strategy of last resort.

This isn’t conservatism. It’s nihilism. It’s the politics of destruction, where the goal isn’t to win over the undecided but to make the whole thing so toxic, so utterly unbearable, that rational people simply throw up their hands in despair.

But here’s the thing: we can’t afford to give up. Because while they’re busy clowning around, the world is still turning. Climate change isn’t pausing for their antics. LGBTQ+ youth are still suffering from their bigotry. And the most vulnerable in our society are still paying the price for their ignorance.

Democrats must highlight the difference beginning Monday with the convention.

Republicans have chosen absurdity as their last stand. They’ve traded in competence for chaos, reason for rage. They aren’t here to govern—they’re here to burn it all down. And they’re laughing while they do it.

Time to reject Chaos Governance.

’Burn The Boats’ And The Laughs


“Burn the Boats” is an apt title for Joe Rogan’s latest Netflix special, as I found myself desperately searching for a vessel to escape this comedic shipwreck.

Rogan, once a vibrant voice in stand-up, now comes across as a caveman who’s just discovered fire – except the fire went out years ago, and he’s still rubbing sticks together.

This special is less a comedy routine and more a claustrophobic therapy session where we, the unwitting audience, are forced to endure Rogan’s dated grievances and half-baked conspiracy theories. His material on COVID-19 feels as fresh as last week’s sushi, while his LGBTQ “jokes” have all the subtlety and charm of a sledgehammer to the funny bone.

In one particularly cringe-worthy moment, Rogan compares transgender individuals to characters from “The Silence of the Lambs.” The joke didn’t kill, but the awkward, sporadic laughter nearly did.

Rogan, now the paragon of alt-right standup, seems to have mistaken volume for humor, as if by yelling loud enough, he might drown out the deafening silence of a joke falling flat.

In the end, “Burn the Boats” is on the money, as Rogan has torched any remaining goodwill I had for his comedy. There’s a reason you won’t see any jokes in the trailer; he’s no longer funny.

The only boat I wish he’d burned was the one carrying this special.