Thanksgiving — the annual ritual of gratitude, family gatherings, and in recent times, deathly stares.
This year, it’s not just the turkey heating up; it’s themedia-fueled panic over Project 2025, a conservative roadmap allegedly poised to plunge America into a dystopian, fascist nightmare.
It’s no longer about exposing disinformation (was it ever?); it’s about silencing that ‘weird uncle’ who dares to question the script.
Headlines scream that Trump’s return is the end of democracy as we know it as though four years of his first term didn’t already pass without the republic collapsing into chaos. Here we are, still standing.
Turkey with a side of TDS
Adding spice to this narrative is the hysteria around incels — “involuntary celibates,” mostly alienated young men whom the media insists formed a secret Trumpian army. But the myth collapses upon scrutiny.
Many self-proclaimed incels aren’t conservatives; in fact, a substantial number identify with radical leftist ideologies. Psychologist Andrew G. Thomas, an authority on incel culture, highlights the diversity within this group: Over a third are non-white, and most politically lean left. As Thomas notes, “Some of the stereotypes about the makeup of incels are inaccurate.” — a gross understatement.
The Thanksgiving table has become a battleground where Trump Derangement Syndrome reigns supreme.
For the uninitiated, TDS is a crippling condition that turns even the most trivial moments into mind-altering meltdowns. Some manage to keep it under control.
Others, like Sam Harris, have been completely consumed. Recently, the neuroscientist lost his mind over Trump’s appearance on Joe Rogan’s podcast, sneering that Rogan is no replacement for the Wall Street Journal.
No, Sam, you’re right. Rogan, with his marathon, no-holds-barred conversations, is an upgrade from the WSJ. He answers to no one but his audience — a vast and varied group that craves raw, unfiltered discussion not sanitized headlines tailored to please corporate stakeholders.
Sadly, though, Sam Harris speaks for millions of Americans, people so consumed by fear and illogical thoughts that they refuse to acknowledge reality.
The methamphetamine of the masses
Some will suggest that Americans simply avoid politics at the Thanksgiving table. But that’s like expecting a dog not to bark or hoping for a smooth flight on Spirit Airlines. It’s just not going to happen.
How do you avoid politics when half the table believes they’re witnessing the collapse of American ideals? Trump and Harris aren’t just political figures; they’re totems of dueling ideologies, each symbolizing conflicting visions of masculinity, femininity, and identity. In many ways, they symbolize conflicting visions of what America represents.
Karl Marx once dubbed religion “the opiate of the masses.” Were he around today, he’d likely argue that politics is now the methamphetamine of the masses.
Ever tried reasoning with someone consumed by TDS? It’s an endless chase through extremes, manic predictions, lots of screaming, and doomsday scenarios. Politics is no longer a topic to be politely avoided. It’s an intoxicant, a substance as addictive as it is divisive.
Conversations that once tolerated polite disagreements now devolve into heated, almost gladiatorial battles where each side believes they’re defending civilization itself. Every Thanksgiving, the battle lines are drawn anew, with political fanaticism toppling reason, leaving no room for compromise.
In the new American landscape, Thanksgiving has become just another front in a wider culture war, where the pie may be sweet but the mood is perpetually sour. And while Trump may be the lead actor in this American drama, the CIA is the real villain of the story.
The agency’s agenda
Yes, the CIA.
After all, it was instrumental in popularizing the term “conspiracy theory” — a term as American as blue jeans and bald eagles engineered to discredit critics and label dissent as delusional.
In the wake of the JFK assassination, skeptics of the Warren Commission were swiftly branded as conspiracy theorists, a calculated smear deployed by the CIA to corral public opinion and silence dissent. This wasn’t just a tactic; it was a masterclass in psychological manipulation, a move so effective that it embedded doubt and derision into the American lexicon for generations.
Working hand-in-glove with mainstream media, the CIA spread the term through carefully crafted editorials and op-eds, funneling it into public consciousness. Prominent newspapers ran stories casting skeptics as unstable or even unpatriotic, embedding the term “conspiracy theory” as shorthand for lunacy. Through this alliance with the press, the CIA rewired public discourse, transforming critical thought into a sign of dangerous deviation — a subtle, insidious conditioning that persists to this day.
Decades later, “conspiracy theory” endures as a blunt weapon wielded by everyone from politicians to news anchors to your neighbor down the street. It’s no longer about exposing disinformation (was it ever?); it’s about silencing that “weird uncle” who dares to question the script.
What’s most alarming is how this war on dissent has unraveled the social fabric itself. When every policy is a zero-sum battle, when each candidate is cast as either a messiah or a menace, mutual trust crumbles. The unspoken agreement that once allowed Americans to coexist in disagreement is wearing thinner by the day.
This Thanksgiving, as you pass the stuffing and brace for political crossfire, don’t forget that the CIA’s most enduring operation wasn’t in some distant land but right here at home. Its greatest act of subversion may well be the transformation of “conspiracy theory” into a divisive slur — one that fractures families, friendships, and the fragile unity of a nation.
