Oh, I know. It’s a shock. All those years, all those tear-stained speeches about the “children,” the “dignity of the people,” the “sacred promise of our democracy.” I delivered them with the conviction of a Shakespearean actress.
You bought it. You bought the whole performance. It was a role, darling. And I played it to perfection.
You see, you thought this was a marriage. I thought it was a transaction. You provided the votes, the tax dollars, the blind adoration of the party faithful. And in return, I provided… the narrative.
The DEI? A masterstroke, really. Not a principle, but a product. We rebranded the old grievance machine. We made “equity” not about justice, but about leverage. It was the perfect cudgel to beat our opponents into submission, all while securing the permanent allegiance of a carefully sorted demographic. “Diversity” was our brand management. “Inclusion” meant you were either with us, or you were a bigot. So simple. So clean. So profitable.
And you, America, you were my greatest enabler. You mistook my cold, calculating ambition for maternal warmth. You thought my desire for your vote was a desire for your well-being. How quaint.
Did you really think I cared about your factory in Ohio? Your small business in Nebraska? Your concerns about the border? My border was the velvet rope at a San Francisco fundraiser. My constituents were the donors on the other side of it. Your world was a talking point.
So save your tears. Don’t cry for me, America. The truth is, I never loved you. I simply loved what you could do for me. And frankly, my dear, that well has run dry.
