When you live in a place like California or Northern Virginia or New York or some other blue hellhole, and you are in favor of things like America and freedom, you really are living in enemy territory. Democrats surround you like locust, except locust have a purpose, and you are constantly aware that you are a member of an oppressed minority. Of course, it’s the one allegedly oppressed minority that the damn commies don’t pretend to care about. Some of us own it, others don’t need the hassle. But for all of us refugees from freedom, it’s a pain to deal with an Immoral Majority.
You are always on alert, knowing that any interaction can turn into the climax of the 1970’s remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers should they discovery that you harbor unapproved views about the Constitution, the economy, and whether a chick can have a penis. You learn to navigate the perils of being a political/cultural outcast. You don’t run away from confrontations, but you don’t seek them out. After all, there’s nothing to be gained by them. Leftists are immune to reason. They are insusceptible to argument. They are in the grips of a ridiculous pagan religion and all its tenets – like that climate change is a thing and that structural racism is a thing and that Trump being a tool of Putin is a thing – are received wisdom. These people embrace it all not because they have been convinced of it but because they want to be part of the Bolshevik Borg. What greater show of solidarity could there be than to publicly announce that you accept something totally ridiculous, like that men can get pregnant? If you will show that you will eagerly sacrifice your self-respect and dignity for the cause, you prove yourself worthy of acceptance.
We refugees from America in the blue ruins are experts in commie dogma because we live in and around it. We hear the local frigid wine women talking about how Trump is awful in the aisles of the Trader Joe’s. We idle at stop lights behind hipster femboys in their Priuses with “COEXIST” bumper stickers – knowing that there should be an asterisk that reads “Except conservatives.” We see the hobos that their politics empower defiling our sidewalks.
We are surrounded, but we aren’t fooled. We know the enemy and understand xim. Of course, the enemy has zero understanding of us since they don’t know any of us. They think MSNBCNN is a documentary. They are blue bubble people.
I recently acquired a place in Texas – no, I’m not leaving California completely, as this is a state designed to enrich lawyers at the expense of normal people so I might as well cash in off these goofs and their idiotic laws. Texas is different because, in most areas, you can pretty much assume the person you are meeting is not some sort of communist dillweed. Conservatives abound and run free, celebrating the freedom and the BBQ.
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But in Los Angeles, you have to scope out people you encounter to get a sense of where they stand. While maybe 25% of Californians might be reasonably classified as “Not Communist Dummies,” there are 33 million Californians. That means, in absolute numbers, there are a lot of patriots, even in the coastal enclaves where I spend my time. Of course, those are getting fewer and fewer. Fifteen years ago, when Andrew Breitbart was the head of a vibrant LA open conservative subculture, there were lots of conservative gatherings and events. There were a lot of us. But now, most of the open cons have left. Now, the kind of conservatives we usually encounter are normal people, not activists. They are also mostly undercover. Most of them see no upside in parading the fact they are not communists to strangers. Some, are into the confrontation. We met a nice man at one of our favorite breakfast joints with a MAGA hat. He was definitely looking for a fight, but the local libs were freaked out and made sure not to make any sudden moves around him.
Most normal people are on the conservative down low, so you look for indicators when meeting someone new. The lack of those “In This House, No One Is Illegal” signs is a good omen, but a proudly flying Stars and Stripes is a better one. A military hat or shirt is a positive indicator. So is a real job. With the HR directors, public school teachers, and (for the most part) lawyers, you can be relatively certain you’re dealing with a pinko. But someone who works for a living is likely to be one of us. Contractors, truck drivers, and business owners are likely allies. A good rule of thumb is that someone with a useful skill after the communists cause society to collapse is probably at least conservative-ish.
You get to talking about them and someone mentions the rampant crime or the rampant bums and then there is a pause – what will the reaction be? Will it be “Well, crime is the cry of the marginalized and oppressed, and the unhoused are sadly oppressed?” Or will it be, “Yeah, we need to lock up criminals and bulldoze derelicts into the Soylent Green trucks”? Well, usually the references to Soylent Green’s innovative urban pacification strategies come a little later, but you get hints that your interlocutor is open to normality.
Eventually, the Trump question arises. Will you get the wussy “Trump was okay on policy, but his mean tweets turn me off” response? This most often comes from a guy who is really signaling to you that his lib wife won’t put out if he votes for the Donald. Or will you get the “I’ll crawl naked over broken kombucha bottles to vote for him over that crusty old pervert”? Those are the people you want to party with.
Now, I really wish I could say that California is in for a rebirth of the kind of common sense conservatism is exemplified under Governor Ronald Reagan (and other Republican governors) back when I was growing up here, but I can’t. There are too many dumb Californians, and too many of the good ones have left for redder pastures. I may too someday, but in the meantime, I’ll continue my guerilla war on the communists.
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