EDITOR'S NOTE: Jonah will be back with your favorite "news"letter next week. In the meantime, we editorial lackeys thought you'd thoroughly enjoy this instant-classic G-File from March 12. Dear Reader (particularly the shut-ins, obsessives, convicts, unrepentant practitioners of mopery, and masochists who will actually read this epic-length ranty "news"letter from beginning to end), I have nothing but sympathy for those of you who are sick of my wasting the precious space of this "news"letter on Donald Trump. How you feel about Donald Trump and this "news"letter is how I feel about the raging Trumpster fire raging through my party and my country: Would that we could spare time to talk about something else. I feel a bit like Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange. No one has strapped me to a chair or attached those metal scaffolds to my eyes to keep them open as I watch that oleaginous clump of non sequiturs sweat his insecurities on national television. But I still feel drained as I try to resist what feels like a kind of crowd-sourced brainwashing spread across the land like a wet rolling fog. At times, I sometimes think I'm living in a weird remake of The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. If you've seen any of the umpteen versions, you know the pattern. Someone you know or love goes to sleep one night and appears the next day to be the exact same person you always knew. Except. Except they're different, somehow. They talk funny. They don't care about the same things they used to. It's almost like they became Canadian overnight -- seemingly normal, but off in some way. Even once-friendly dogs start barking at them. I live in constant fear that I will run into Kevin Williamson, Charlie Cooke, or Rich Lowry and they will start telling me that Donald Trump is a serious person because he's tapping into this or he's willing to say that. I imagine my dog suddenly barking at them uncontrollably. (I don't worry about this with Ramesh because Vulcans are immune.) I'll say, "I'm sorry Rich, I don't know what got into her." And I can just hear the Lowry-doppelganger replying, "When Mr. Trump is president, dogs will behave or they will pay a price. Just like Paul Ryan and Michelle Fields." "Lowry you bastard! You went to sleep! Why!? You went to sleep and now you're gone!" And that's when he'd give me the Donald Sutherland finger . . . Read the whole thing here.  | 
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