Pennsylvania is Being Poached by Populist Frauds

By Nicky Reid aka Comrade Hermit

Exile in Happy Valley

I’ve lived in Pennsylvania for my entire life and over the last three decades I’ve grown to begrudgingly love this busted old pick-up truck of a Rust Belt state. That Beltway mutant James Carville once derisively described this place as being Alabama between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. I’ve never been to Alabama, but I live in a small town that is roughly halfway between my state’s two biggest cities and the comparison rings a bit hollow. I won’t sugarcoat it; this was not an ideal place to grow up Queer and I don’t always feel safe at the local diner, much less the nearest Baptist Church but this isn’t fucking Deliverance country.

This is a country where you’re never more than 15 minutes from both an Amish farm and an abandoned factory. This is a country where people hunt to put food on the table and not to prove how big their dick is. This is a country where diversity means that every skinny Black dude on the wrong side of town has a fat hillbilly baby-mama with a couple of beautiful caramel children in tow. This is a country of doublewides with rainbow flags and ranch homes with Blue Lives Matter signs. This is a complicated and often contradictory state but it’s also a state with a lot more heart than brains and it’s a state that has been repeatedly raped by Washington for that honorable flaw. A place where all the factory workers now cut their paychecks at growing prisons filled with their opioid addicted children who sought to erase themselves after coming home from the latest bipartisan forever war.

This is how Pennsylvania became Trump Country and this is what the smug wonks on CNN will never grasp about the MAGA sickness. Once again, I’ve never been to Alabama, but the people who live between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia didn’t vote for Trump because they’re racist or sexist even if he clearly is. They only got on board with that orange motherfucker when they saw how uncomfortable he made elitist little shits like James Carville. The people I know who voted for Trump knew full well that they were casting a ballot for a lecherous cretin they wouldn’t let within fifteen feet of their daughters but as far as they were concerned, they weren’t just voting for a man who macks on his own offspring, they were voting to throw a screaming orange brick through the White House window. MAGA was their revenge against a bipartisan political machine that fed our state to NAFTA and the Iraq War.

It’s just a crying shame that they still haven’t woken up from the fever dream yet because the MAGA circus has only been assimilated back into the Washington hivemind and if this year’s crazed midterm election over the Senate seat of swing state Republican douchebag Pat Toomey has proven anything it’s that it’s just the same damn show under a different fucking tent.

The 2022 GOP Primaries over this partisan prize have essentially amounted to a hate-fuck menage a trois between three vapid carpetbaggers. The early Washington favorite seemed to be David McCormick, a Pennsylvania born neocon who spent the last thirty years becoming a hedge fund millionaire in Connecticut and the last thirty weeks trying to convince his home state that this Bush Administration golf course cancer is really just another good old boy beneath the Polo shirt and pleated slacks. Many of the Donald’s tarnished brass were in on the grift from the drop. After all, McCormick’s own wife, Dina Powell, paid her dues sacrificing Somalian babies on the altar of the MAGA drone wars as that fucker’s National Security Advisor. Stephen Miller, Hope Hicks and Kellyanne Conway all threw their weight behind McCormick’s tried and true formula of Wall Street skullfuckery but their petulant orange emperor had different plans.


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