Once upon a time there was a little senator and his name was Lindsey Graham. He loved to be around men more powerful than himself. He felt it increased his relevance. He longed to be more important than he was and because he couldn’t quite get there, he took comfort from basking in the light of those more luminous. He would reflect their light, like the moon does the sun.
Now the good thing about Lindsey is that he wasn’t the worst senator. There were many others in line for that title long before he would ever claim it. He had a shiny moral compass which, while if not perfect, more or less pointed him in the right direction. Between that and the wisdom of his BFF, John McCain, Lindsey did alright. He knew what was what.
When he ran for president in 2015, he called one of the other candidates by his right names, “kook” “crazy” “xenophobe.” Lindsey saw this guy, Donald Trump, for who and what he was. And he made a prediction on Twitter, which was the public square in those days, where people posted illuminated pixels, which traveled the world at the speed of light and this was how they talked to one another.
And Lindsey said, “If we nominate Trump he will destroy us. And we will deserve it.” That was in 2015. And then in 2021, here is what happened to Lindsey Graham.
“It’s going to be like this forever, wherever you go, for the rest of your life… audit our vote you piece of shit.”
Trump supporters continue to harass Sen. Graham at Reagan airport this morning — horrifying new reality in our countrypic.twitter.com/9SBZzgJqZW
— j.d. durkin (@jiveDurkey) January 8, 2021
Apparently Lindsey didn’t think this was a possibility. Maybe he thought that it was all just playacting and television, too, just like Trump. After all, he’d been a senator for quite a while, he was used to shifting his political views with whatever the popular tide of the moment decreed so he could appear to be up on things and stay in power. Or, maybe he never entertained the idea that the base really would not accept Trump’s defeat and would instead go completely ape, not only at Trump, but at his best buds — of which Lindsey was the bestest, golfing with the Dreamsickle Deity on Christmas.
So the cult trusted Lindsey far more than they trusted most of of the rest. And Lindsey’s profile had risen, just as he wanted — and that is what sealed his fate. He wanted the limelight too much. He wanted to be a star. Lindsey would have been better off staying buddies with Joe Biden and basking in the afterglow of his friendship with John McCain. He was respected for those things. But fame was too strong of a siren call. Lindsey saw that Trump had it and he had to follow Trump and try to get it, too — and he smashed his life on the rocks, as many a sailor did before him, following their own personal siren call.
For you see, now Lindsey is waking up, as are we all. We have labored under the delusion that the GOP was Dr. Frankenstein and Donald Trump the monster. We were wrong. Trump is Frankenstein and the base is the monster. And now the monster is loose. And it’s pissed. And it went to the capitol and smeared feces on the floor and then tracked that around. And it stole laptops from offices, smashed windows, and wove nooses. For that is the nature of the monster.
And now the monster is after Lindsey. The monster demands that Lindsey do right by them. And so he’s starting to have his own moment of clarity. He smashed his moral compass and got on board the Trump crazy train, trying to be more than he was, because he saw Trump doing the very same thing and being so successful at it. He figured he could be like Trump and get away with the things Trump got away with and be famous doing it. And he was wrong. And now this is his life. Because in making himself so visible and making himself the protector of Trump, the minute it became evident that Trump had lost, the monster went looking for somebody to blame. And Lindsey was right there, more visible than anybody. That was the position he put himself in.
A man is better off living honorably and well, true to his beliefs and having real friends, than hitching his wagon to the wrong star in the quest for undeserved honors and unearned fame.
Because when that wagon goes over the cliff, they’re coming after you, Lindsey. And there they are. And now the question is: will they ever go away? Or is this life, forever?
Lesson learned in the Twilight Zone.
Thank you, Ursula. That was really a good Twilight Zone episode. And note how he wears his mask. But that woman – the epitome of hatred. Sheer shrieking hatred. Vile, venomous woman. I couldn’t watch it again.
She was so awful I can’t believe security didn’t drag her away.
Poor Lindsey. His head must be vibrating from all the flip flopping.
It she was black they would have .
She was terrible but she wasn’t the only one, just the worst one. He did this to himself. I don’t feel sorry.
My how the mighty have fallen.
*smirk*
Too bad, so sad.
Damn. Maybe he needs to watch out for Trump’s “zip-tie boys.”
After today, any government official not named Donald John Trump is probably considered an enemy combatant by this crowd. Republicans have yet to fully assimilate that fact.
I HAD to read that article in Rod Serling’s voice. It just had the right cadence and flow to it for that. If you want, Ursula, I’d be glad to send a copy of a voice recording of it to you.
This is wonderfully written, ursula.
Brilliant! I may have nightmares tonight. Zombie Magats.
One TZ word describes Lindsey…OBSOLETE OBSOLETE OBSOLETE OBSOLETE.
Ahhh, somebody else with a fondness for “The Obsolete Man”, one of my fave TZ episodes! That episode is also probably my favorite totalitarian dystopia story of all time for one reason…it shows how no one, not even the nominal guys in charge, are safe from such a government.
Hey lindsey…try russia. You’d get a hero’s welcome there. The cult has only one messiah, & u are not he.
He goes to Russia, he’s Siberian dog meat.
Do they eat rancid meat? Maybe fish bait.
Graham is a true cuck. When he lost the “work daddy”, John McCain, he needed a new alpha. Too bad he wasn’t bright enough to see the corpses that littered that path. It’s true that everything Trump touches, dies.
Sleep with doggies… get fleas.
Sleep in the bed you made.
Or was better to “die” on your feet than live on your knees.
This couldn’t happen to a more deserving sleazebag than L’il Lindsey Kickspittle.
Not enough lilac sachet left in the world to take care of Miz Lindsey’s future vapor attaacks.