As I write, a political pundit on a bar stool not far away is leaning over his fourth glass of Pinot Grigio, breathlessly telling his friend the truth about Donald Trump.
“He’s over the top!” he’s saying. “He’s reckless! The things he says, they’re incendiary, they’re not rational!”
“He’s Caesar, he’s Napoleon!”
And then, the flourish: “He is literally Hitler!”
Of course, he’s none of these things. Yet the clawing shrillness of the cocktail circuit continues, reaching a level that would annoy a dog by the second bottle.
And it isn’t only in the bars and parlors — the Hashtag Warriors are a personal favorite.
“The #NeverTrump movement took off this weekend and it may be a much needed moment of unity for the conservative movement and rank-and-file Republicans after years of discord,” a former Eric Cantor spokesman wrote unironically last month.
We can forgive the author for living alongside the first lady in that bubble where Twitter is somehow considered more than a simple exercise in narcissism, but he should be careful: If Mr. Trump’s shrillest critics are correct in their predictions, when Emperor Trump rounds up all those pundits and journalists who opposed him, puts them on a train and sends them off to that farm he promised to buy in Iowa, writing an article on Medium about a hashtag movement is not going to look cool. No one is going to want this man to join their prison gang.