Deep in the D.C. Suburbs—After a frightening New York Times column by Bret Stephens comparing Trump supporters to Stalinists and NeverTrump “conservatives” to anti-Communist freedom-fighters, several NeverTrumpers—fearing for their safety—have taken refuge in the suburban home of their de facto leader, Weekly Standard editor-at-large Bill Kristol. https://amgreatness.com/2018/03/02/into-the-nevertrump-gulag/
The group includes Stephens, Washington Post columnists Jennifer Rubin and Max Boot, National Review writer Mona Charen, and author Tom Nichols. Their self-imposed exile gives the courageous dissidents a chance to plot their next move, schedule their next MSNBC interview, and close their next book deal without fear of being crushed by the MAGA jackboots . . .
Kristol: OK, brave warriors, here’s what we need to do given my decades of success in mastering the levers of power in Washington. We must first come up with a clever name, like the Committee for the Liberation of Iraq, er, America. Then we draft a Statement of Principles. Then we write a strongly worded letter to the president but it’s really just a prop to get more interviews.
Nichols: [looks up from phone] Can’t we just tweet? It’s the only way I’ll ever get more followers than Hannity.
Kristol: [tries unsuccessfully to button cardigan sweater] Tom, I know you’re an expert and all, but you don’t understand. None of this means anything, we just have to sound like we know what we’re doing. Trust me, when this is all over, we will be welcomed as liberators of the conservative cause. Or at least considered as clever as I was when I made McCain pick Sarah Palin as his running mate.
Rubin: [Applies garish lipstick] Can we make this quick? I have to be on CNN in an hour and I don’t have all my screaming points done yet. [Looks at Boot] Max, what are you doing?
Boot: I’m writing my next column, “Letter from a McLean Mansion.” I mean, as a historian, I know Martin Luther King had it rough and whatnot, but he didn’t have to deal with social media or Fox News. If you really think about it, we are no different than the Little Rock Nine. Except there’s six of us.