Letter from Daniel Gomes

MAGAs Will Want to Forget

They think they are following the light to a prophesied kingdom come, but really, they are being led by an orange Pied Piper, carrying a torch, on his way to a barbeque.

There, flag-draped flamethrowers will serve them vaguely familiar cubes of sautéed brain on Bamboo skewers—with a nice Chianti.

As patriotic music and hypnotic chants sound in the background, the dulcification of the day’s program is achieved, and the disciples happily consume their last sips of wine.

Each is then given a MAGA hat, a banner and some placards as souvenirs. Then they are led by acolytes to their pre-assigned places on the stand just behind the podium, where TV cameras can take close-ups.

Their excited spasms soon become manifest, and, at just the right moment, they all will be primed to jump up and down, wave their banners and cry tears of adoration the moment their Master appears on stage.

Years later, if they are still alive, they won’t remember any of these details to their grandchildren. But don’t try to convince them of that now!

Daniel Gomes
Oneonta