The stories we no longer want to hear in 2018

[ Originally published on this site as post ]

Here are the stories I no longer want to hear about in 2018. I’m dead serious about this. I am quite willing to round up a posse or Kickstarter an Uber or whatever it is the kids are going on about these days, if we cannot agree to these terms. There will be consequences.

No more of this nonsense.

• Trump supporters who are still Trump supporters. We get it, they’re dumb. They’re very, very dumb, they live in places in which all their friends are dumb, and their jobs are dumb, and their dogs are dumb, and if Donald Trump Jr. came through town trophy-shooting their children and fashioning himself a necklace of their baby teeth ol’ Bob and Nancy and Possum Joe down at the diner would still say that well, at least Trump isn’t a secret Muslim or Kenyan or socialist or all of those other words that the dumbest news channel on the airwaves has been using as not-at-all-rabid synonyms for black.

We get it. They’re racists. The fact that nearly every one of these interviewed Trump supporters just happens to be, what are the odds, a casual racist is usually gotten around to in a one-sentence quote three-quarters down the story. The same casual racist is also almost always a dumb-as-dirt conspiracy theorist who, in a quote four-fifths through the same story, mentions some asinine theory about Muslims digging secret Muslim tunnels into our nation’s department stores to replace all our fresh store-bought socks with new versions that turn the wearer Muslim from the toes up, a bit of sheer dumb lunacy that will be met with a nonjudgemental reminder from Jimmy the Reporter to the reader that it isn’t actually true while still treating everything else Bob and Nancy and Possum Joe say as deep wisdom from the American heartland, where the American heartland is defined by our nation’s news reporters as any town in which you can still hear casual racists opine their casual racist thoughts in the middle of an otherwise-abandoned diner.

Live in a place where people aren’t quite so ready to pipe up with casual racist thoughts the first time a man with a notepad and tape recorder wanders into their Tuesday lunch hangout? Screw you, you aren’t the heartland. In 2017 only dumb-as-posts racist conspiracy lunatics counted as heartland, and the length our journalistic elites went to explain this to the rest of us bordered on obsessive-compulsive.