Something has gone Deeply Wrong in the United States since November of last year.
P resumably, if you follow the news, you’ve heard about what’s going on. You know what I’m referring to: The situation. Our crisis. The threat to democracy. This — which is Not Normal. American Life, circa 2025 — or what’s left of it.
As is confirmed daily on repositories of mainstream thought such as Reddit, Bluesky, and the comments at the Washington Post, something has gone Deeply Wrong in the United States since November of last year. The fruits of this Problem are everywhere. It is the reason that your local diner was less busy than usual last Thursday morning. It’s why your friend Sandra had to call in sick to work this week. It’s why there was that terrible flood down in Texas earlier in the month. You can feel it, right? Good. If you can feel it, it must be real.
On Monday, a writer at the New York Times became so convinced that the car in front of her was full of ICE agents coming to “take someone” that she began to panic. As it turned out, the vehicle wasn’t full of ICE agents; it was “an airport limo picking up a passenger.” Still, the mere fact that she had incorrectly thought otherwise — the fact that she had been “obliged to run through such a mental triage,” as she put it — was Extremely Telling. She is tired. Like the rest of us, she is just so tired. Nobody, especially not writers for America’s august paper of record, wants to be forced into hallucinations.
All of my friends feel the same. They literally — literally — can’t do anything right now. Not with Everything the Way That It Is. They can’t read the newspaper, or visit Florida, or get married and have a baby. Even going outside carries untold risks. You’re aware of what Fiona’s aunt’s sister-in-law’s friend said about her cousin up in Canada at the end of last weekend’s Anguish Brunch? Sure, when it came to it, the cousin was able to drive his Subaru across the border without incident. And, sure, at no point during his camping trip to Michigan did he actually come close to being kidnapped by plainclothes agents of the Fish and Wildlife Service. But he’d been worried about it for weeks — Fiona had, too — and, in all honesty, that’s almost more important than what happened.
There are still people out there who say that, in spite of our political disagreements, America feels pretty normal right now. Heck, I’ve even heard it argued that you’d be hard pressed to discern much difference in day-to-day life in the United States between today and a year ago, or between today and 2019, or between today and 2015, for that matter. These collaborators will insist earnestly that it does not feel “strange” to go to the movies, or to buy oranges, or to spend a relaxing weekend at the lake. Likewise, they do not think that flying has become hopelessly politicized, or that working has taken on an air of trauma, or that it is a great crime to raise children in this toxic environment. Somehow, some of them are able to swim without hyperventilating.
Ignore them. Those people are privileged, sheltered, obsessive weirdos, and they must be ostracized. There is a right way to deal with All This, and there is a wrong way to deal with All This, and it is your responsibility to choose the correct path. If you meet someone at the door of a coffee shop who says, “Nice day!,” you should tell him that it is not, in fact, a nice day. If a single mother from Nebraska asks you where you stayed when you went to Disney World last year, explain to her that amusement parks are a key part of Contemporary American Denial and that her children should be kept away from them. If you strike up a conversation with a senior who expresses delight at something on television, remind him that the dictatorships of the late Roman Empire also had enjoyable entertainment. This is not a time for chit-chat. Not now. Not with everything that’s going on.