The Based Ritual

Note: I’ve known these people. And yes, it actually is this bad.

Most nights, you can find the elite among the MAGA faithful at one of a handful of Capitol Hill bars. Walk in at the right time, and you will see their journalists, or what passes for such in Trumpworld, influencers, the smaller accounts whose role in the ecosystem is to influence the influencers, and secretaries and aspiring secretaries of various sorts – under, acting, deputy, assistant, personal deputy assistant. Tonight, in one of these bars, a group of four gathers for drinks.

Max has been losing his hair since he was 16, which has always made him look much older than he is. Only 31 now, he’s had horseshoe pattern baldness for close to half his life. When Max was younger he had what were thought to be old man views, even though he developed them on gaming and anime message boards. Now the exact same opinions are young-coded, though a similar incongruence remains since he now looks really old. Having bounced around MAGA think tanks and various holding pens for the last five years, he is currently undergoing vetting to be Assistant Secretary of Education for Planning, Evaluation, and Policy Development.

After a bit of small talk and an order of drinks, the conversation becomes stilted and all parties have started to glance at their phones. It’s Max who takes the initiative.

“Did you guys see what’s going on with the Bukele thing? The district court judge told the administration that they had to try to get that illegal back from El Salvador. The lawyers basically submitted a required update saying that he’s with Bukele now, under his sovereignty. What else can they do?”

Max’s friend Alex chimes in. “That is so fucking based. Hope they tell Barrett off too when they get back to SCOTUS. You can never trust her. Haitian kids.” He lets out a laugh that is probably too loud, but that’s sort of the point.

Alex’s job, if it was being described by a member of the hated mainstream media, would be called “influencer.” He makes some money from Twitter ad sharing, but the bulk of his income these days comes from a PR agency he doesn’t ask too many questions about that acts as a passthrough.

He looks at the girl and guy who he and Max are meeting for the first time. They’re both spokespeople for something having to do with health. Or perhaps defense, or land management? The qualifications these days are all the same. These used to be jobs that went to people who had some knowledge or experience in a particular policy area, but today the cucks are all gone.

As he glances at their new companions, Max still doesn’t know exactly what they’re dealing with, and suspects Alex might have jumped the gun. But it had to happen sooner or later, and sometimes it is best to just dive right in. You see, this is because when young MAGAs meet today, they engage in something called the Based Ritual. Max started by discussing a story that was in the news. The commentary had been limited to praising something Trump had done, which is always a safe way to begin. But Alex had escalated, showing the kind of boldness that took him from being a general studies major at a university nobody had heard of in Pennsylvania to having enough Twitter followers that the site now rounds to the nearest hundred thousand on his profile.

Yet there was nothing to worry about. Prudence is becoming less and less necessary when undertaking the Based Ritual.

This is confirmed when the blonde in the miniskirt that is too short for any non-MAGA political circle starts giggling. “That’s awesome. Trump is now saying they might start sending our own criminals there too!” It starts to dawn on the group that everyone is on the same page.

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