A day in my life after leaving the Dissident Right

Lives of the Saints

8:30 AM - Wake up.

8:32 AM - Morning calisthenics, healthy breakfast (fresh-squeezed orange juice), shower, shave.

9:00 AM - Sit down in my writing nook to work on my post-political treatise: “It Was My Turn: Why We Need to Leave Politics Behind Forever Now.”

9:03 AM - Stare at the screen in silence, unable to type anything.

9:07 AM - Begin browsing Twitter.

9:10 AM - Find a CNN article claiming something that isn’t even plausibly true about the Trump administration and Quote Tweet it with feigned detachment.

9:11 AM - The CNN story has collapsed. Return to writing.

9:13 AM - Back on Twitter.

10:30 AM - Get on a post-political podcast with another post-political figure who imploded in roughly the same way I did, albeit 6 months after or before me (I can’t remember). Our main topic of discussion will be my political grievances with various political figures. I have plans to record four such podcasts today.

11:30 AM - Great talk, we agree to do it again tomorrow. Same topic.

11:35: AM - Trump has made vague off-the-cuff remarks that I will choose to greatly embellish the importance of and interpret in the least charitable way possible, pretending to be oblivious to how Trump has conducted politics for nearly a decade at this point. I receive 11 likes after 18,000 impressions. My first taste of triumph today.

11:40 AM - Trump’s statements have come to nothing. He shrugs and says “Who gives a shit?” when asked about them. Everyone thinks it’s really funny.

11:43 AM - As the “Who gives a shit?” video clip goes viral, I begin drafting a Substack article titled Who Gives a Shit? Not the Dissident Right.

11:50 AM - Leave the article blank in my drafts.

12:00 PM - Record another post-political podcast where I analyze the failures of the Trump movement.

1:03 PM - I’m famished, I decide to drive to Kentucky Fried Chicken to get some food.

1:15 PM - I arrive and walk in. I wince and turn as I hear Trump say “Who gives a shit?” A broccoli-haired Zoomer in a nearby booth is playing the video aloud on his phone because he accidentally left his knockoff AirPods in the washing machine.

1:17 PM - I order the Chicken Sandwich Big Box combo with a side of Macaroni and Bogo Fries. As the counter attendee passes me my order, she says “Have a nice day” and I have a flash of inspiration.

1:32 PM - Rush home and begin writing my new article, Have a Nice Day Nationalism: Turning away from the Dissident Right.

1:40 PM - I try to convince myself that I am overcome with emotion as I draft my powerful creative nonfiction piece about my experiences. That that fast food worker would tell me, someone who is widely disliked for his obnoxious behavior and has suffered years of social and professional embarrassment stemming from this, to have a nice day of all things is a sign that we need to leave politics and the Dissident Right behind once and for all.

In the article I propose that for every “have a nice day” you hear, you tell three other people to “have a nice day,” oblivious to the fact that I am recreating from subconscious memory the plot of the 2000 romantic drama film Pay it Forward starring Kevin Spacey, Helen Hunt, and that little kid from Sixth Sense (1999) and A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) who grew up and was recently propelled back into the public spotlight after being arrested for cocaine possession and public intoxication.

Free him

2:00 PM - Enter my next post-political podcast with renewed zeal until the host asks me about the latest sensation on TikTok: The Trump “Who gives a shit?” clip has been edited into a popular song with accompanying dance.

I remark that this merely demonstrates how the Dissident Right doesn’t care about KFC employees, then bravely state that in America there aren’t Rightwingers or Leftwingers, but rather Who Gives a Shits and Have a Nice Days. The host is perplexed but eagerly nods her head in agreement after I tell her it’s about Trump.

3:32 PM - I find the most cynical and obviously manufactured blue collar white male minstrel show filmed by a Democrat ad company and respond to it as though it was completely genuine.

4:03 PM - The mail arrives. I’ve received a manuscript solicitation from a major publisher! After I open the letter my heart sinks, the supposed publisher has proposed that I write an autobiography titled “Fist Full of Nothing: My Faggot Life.”

The letter is a prank, I have been cruelly deceived.

4:10 PM - I receive a notification: Dissident Right operatives have begun to retweet hundreds of my old posts where I predicted a bad outcome in the 2024 election, obviously hoping to manifest this into reality, or latched on to transparent media campaigns run by Democrats in order to support the Democratic candidate. I remain stoic and disinterested in the face of this unending torrent of mockery.

4:13 PM - I fire off a face-saving retort, bringing my followers’ attention to a clearly fake anti-Trump story from a mainstream source that was already publicly discredited earlier today. My acerbic tone conveys that my Tweets are not to be trifled with.

4:14 PM - Although the clearly fake story has already been discredited, I will post and delete 4 different variants of it from 4 different sources, attacking a different angle of the story each time before it becomes too tenuous for even me to support. My conclusion always remains the same: The Dissident Right is finished.

5:00 PM - My last post-political podcast of the day. In it I give a powerful and candid account of my rise and what would be considered my fall if I could ever admit that to myself. However, I leave out all of the various missteps and counterproductive behavior that I engaged in which brought me here, demanding a level of charity that I don’t deserve and certainly would never offer to anyone else. The host is happy to extend this to me because there are no standards at all anymore, only content.

6:00 PM - Unconvincingly pretend to care about art or literature or whatever.

7:57 PM - A troll remarks that I must be getting paid to constantly attack Trump in such a lazy and self-defeating way. I’m actually not, which is somehow more pathetic.

9:02 PM - I drive back to KFC, hoping to interview the counter attendee who changed my life for the upcoming article that will revitalize my career after this long string of humiliations. I spot the counter woman walking to her car with her younger coworkers. She brushes me off as I try to ask for an interview. As she hurriedly opens her car door, I cry out “Have a nice day!” and she finally stops.

I explain how much what she said meant to me, how we all need to have a nice day every now and then, how I never did anything wrong and how Trump and the Dissident Right have discredited themselves once and for all. She looks at me like I’m retarded, says “Who gives a shit?” and drives off. Her coworkers begin laughing and doing the TikTok dance as I hold back a single tear amidst the exhaust fumes.

10:05 PM - Fall asleep watching Pay it Forward. The Latinx bullies remind me of the Dissident Right. Is that Jim Caviezel as the homeless guy? Honestly Helen Hunt looks great in this. How did the studio let them get away with having a bunch of Mexicans stab the little blonde boy in the end?

The past is a foreign country, and I’m going to live there forever.

Why was he dressed like a referee?