Many on the Left are feigning melancholy following the historic victory of America’s favorite president, Donald Trump. While it’s true that Democrats tend to be overly sensitive, the reality is that all of these people are pretending to be sad for attention when, in their hearts, they are happier than they’ve ever been, ever before, in their entire lives.
Think about it, friends. All of this insincere wallowing, this “we can’t believe this is happening.” It’s theater, plain and simple. They are putting on a show because deep down, they’re so overwhelmed with joy about Trump’s win that their body’s sympathetic nervous system is short-circuiting, causing their glee to manifest itself as dread and heartache.
Just look at all these posts on Threads, the soon-to-be-illegal knockoff of X (formerly Twitter). These liberals are living their best lives; they are “getting back into knitting,” “focusing less on politics,” and sharing photos of their houseplants. They are snuggling under quilts sipping vegan tea and subsisting on diets of academic thinkpieces. Have you ever heard of such a liberal cat-lady utopia in your life?
Sure, you’re seeing all these progressives’ crocodile tears online, all these sighs and moans and declarations of doom, but let me clue you in on a little secret: each one of them is actually ecstatic at the idea of living in a so-called “dystopian nightmare.” They’ve been training for this since they read The Hunger Games back in college. They’re thrilled by the thought of sneaking around in resistance cells and forming underground book clubs where they read banned novels and swap secrets about where to find non-contaminated tofu. And how else could they cosplay Katniss in real life were it not for Donald Trump’s real-life version of Coriolanus Snow?
They’ll claim they’re terrified of government surveillance, but scroll through the number of selfies on their Instagram pages, and you’ll see they’re absolutely vibrating with joy at the mere thought of that level of personal attention.
So don’t fall for the act, folks! Behind those gloomy hashtags and apocalyptic manifestos, these Dems are as happy as sheepadoodles in beds made of ethically-raised beef jerky. But right now, they’re just living for the thrill, the melodrama, and the poetry of “losing all semblance of hope.”
Eventually, though, they’ll come around to sharing their true happiness. We’d bet our entire Ministry of Dissent on it.
