“But maybe it’s not too late. Maybe trust hasn’t been completely extiguished.”

Dear Rip Van Steve,

Good morning, buddy. Hate to break it to you, but calendar alert: you just woke up, and it’s not 1973 anymore, nor even 1993, it’s 2023. Hope you had a good nap.

Unfortunately, it’s way past time to “fix” the problems you accurately portray, because you’re just touching the tip of the iceberg.

The only things that are going to work, at this point, are rivers of blood, mountains of skulls, and oceans of tears. Nothing less will avail, nor has even a ghost of a chance. Even that withering approach had better kick off soon, because the likelihood that the numbers of people who even GAF is declining by the year. By this point, the Founders would have burned DC to the ground, the entire government from dog catcher to Top Dog would be swinging by the necks from trees for 100 miles in every direction from the capitol, and the local miscreants and their illegal alien hordes feverishly trying to catch a plane, train, bus, boat or innertube raft back to anywhere but here, one step ahead of the torches-and-pitchforks-wielding mobs out for their blood, and before the fastest-growing airline in the country becomes the helicopter fleet of Air Pinochet.

One can only but hope kickoff happens sooner than later, while even the most draconian course of action has a chance of turning things back to right-side up.

Error happened. 1