The Styx-Spencer Yawn-a-thon
All this and more.
In one corner was a malnourished man in a bathrobe, backed up by his trusty Dutch cat. In the other the leader of the small damp sticky patch formerly known as the Alt-Right, morally supported by his "Village People" moustache.
Surely with two such towering "geniuses of gesticulation," two redoubtable "samurai of the spoken word," the sparks would fly, leading to endless illumination and excitement.
But no! Instead of a torrent of edgy takes and seminal ideas, all we got was tired old boomertard tropes about whether the GOP was more "based" than the Dems and hairsplitting about Joe Biden's senility.
Yes, these so-called "Demagogues of the Dissident Right" were going round in ever-decreasing circles on whether January 6th was a demo or a mini-coup, and what would happen in the midterms.
In a discussion of such depressing banality there was only one clear winner -- my sleep!
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