Dittoville

For years, columns have abounded with advice about maintaining civility at the Thanksgiving table when Trumpers have the nerve to spoil everything by showing up.

Following her own turkey day tradition, adolescent NY Times scold Maureen Dowd has once again yielded her lofty Gray Lady perch to Conservative brother Kevin Dowd,  proving once again that humor and writing talent within a family, like wealth, capital and everything else, are not equally distributed but vary from individual to individual, even those raised under the same roof. Reactions from traumatized NY Times readers range from quiet tut-tut tolerance to outrage as is the wont of Liberals unaccustomed to being even mildly challenged in their cozy, rigid World View of good intentions and equal outcomes. Kevin’s overriding theme this time: Results count.  Oh, dear. Everything was going along so well. Garlic, daylight and a flaming golden crucifix to patronizing NYT sages like Maureen, Thomas L. Friedman, Paul Krugman and their clueless readership. For them, merely good intentions count, and we all know where those lead.

Personal money quote from hand-wringing friends and family this Thanksgiving: “For most White Americans, Thanksgiving is a day of celebration; for Native Americans, it is a day of mourning.” Pass the affirmative action reparations please, Senator Warren. And could I have some more Permanent Grievance gravy with that? And pul-eeze move that statue of Columbus from the centerpiece. It’s blocking my view of utopia.

To the hand-wringing Resisters nostalgic for the Happy Obama days, one way to walk off that dark meat and  malarkey is a good stroll through any Inner City or, as Kevin counsels, a peek at your most recent ObamaCare premium. And fainting.

Meanwhile, the rest of us overfed Deplorables continue to thank our 63 million fellow Americans just plain fed up. And in lieu of counting their fellow sheeple, wringing their hands, tearfully congratulating themselves as they noisily signal their many PC virtues, we fall asleep in blissful gratitude, counting our blessings, America in particular.