And the winner is Kurt Schlichter of "Town Hall" for any of a dozen slings and arrows he landed on the torpid NT carcass.
Trump threw the Fredocons out of the family business. They are nothing to us. They are not brothers-in-arms and they are not friends. We don’t want to know them or what they do. We’d take them out in a figurative row boat onto Lake Tahoe but we don’t want to be seen hanging around with them.
Fredocon! That seals it for Schlichter but he could have won it with a few other of his toxic bon mots.
They miss the cruise ships, filled with marks handing over cash to mingle with second-tier scribes from magazines put out by lesser sons of greater fathers that we stopped reading when they stopped mattering.
Lesser sons of greater fathers? To whom would he be referring?
The very next sentence.
Never Trump wants to once stand on a sold-out cruise ship’s bridge, pale puny arms spread wide, shouting, “I’m a minor duke of the world!”
They’ve been stripped of their silly status, but that silly status – “Oh, I am an assistant fellow at the Institute to For Conservative Studies and Mailing List Compilation” – was all they had.
In fairness, the Never-Trumpers have landed a lot of cushy jobs on major networks, often using the tagline, "Republican Strategist."
Sure, the liberal establishment ran things, but the Professional Cons had their own petty gigs pretending to resist, pretending to care, all the while treading water in a sea of mediocrity and ineffectuality.
It is so sweet to bash the Never-Trumpers. Why?
because their combination of condescension, greed, and betrayal was a huge factor in creating the desperation that turned Normal Americans toward the most unlikely conservative hero imaginable.
So much more.
I would just like to add to our #But Gorsuch acquaintances: Can you please follow Charlie Crist and Mark Sanford out the door? You are better off with your own kind. So are we.
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