The Trouble With Rupert

In order to vanquish my enemy, I must examine her campaign team and plot its destruction.

The candidate herself, Sunny Lucas, by herself, is hardly worth mentioning. She is obese, lazy, and easily distracted by culinary porcine delights. Puh-leeze. If you're going with a Manchurian Candidate, why put up a blubberbutt who's subject to anxiety attacks? Whatever.

Which brings us to the mastermind of Sunny--Rachel Lucas. Writes the subversive and reclusive Bill Whittle:

Smart, funny, fearless, cute and the inventor of the! slam! critique! format! The nicest person I have never met.

Yeah, she's all that and a pleaser of crowds, to boot. But she has a weakness: self-doubt. For all her popularity and charm and incisive sassy humor, she could not even decide on a presidential candidate (before nominating her pitiable dog.)

As We Who Lord well know, self-doubt can be converted to fear, fear into guilt, and guilt into outright supplication to our "vision."

Rachel Lucas will take years, maybe decades to bring to compliance, but she is malleable.

Not so The Rupert.

Confronted with obvious truths such as "The World is Gray," The Rupert blusters "Bullshit! The world is fantastically complicated, but it is knowable. If all you see is gray, you're not looking closely enough to see all the little black and white pixels."

Dealing with The Rupert will require a different strategy. He is to be lured toward the Isle of Capitalism, where he can indulge his achievements while not noticing the rising tide around him. By the time the Socialist Hordes are up to his neck, it will be too late.

Unless...

Could Rupert be just an illusion? A dagger of the mind? A false creation?

Has Rachel Lucas literarily created him after watching James Bond and reading Ayn Rand novels?

"Galt. Rupert Galt."

If so, The Rachel is the one to fear. Such dangerous genius needs further examination. Right after my nap...