Just for a second I’d like you to imagine yourself as the parent of a darling two-year-old. You stepped out of the house for a moment and when you came back, the walls were painted red with little handprints, the carpet was marked with little footprints, and at the end of the trail of footprints stood your little child, clothing red, feet red, face red, hands red. The child smiles at you with a big, bright, innocent smile. She twists one foot behind the other, folds her arms behind her back, and sways innocently. Her eyes try desperately not to look at the walls or the floors, or the ceiling (because somehow she was able to get paint up there too), but she can’t stop herself from peeking; she feels pride when she looks at her work. Between looking at her art and looking at you she says, “It wasn’t me. Rover did it,” but Rover’s footprints aren’t anywhere; Rover was outside with you all along.
This is the face of progressivism and modern liberalism.
The essay is about Russian hacking, but it is about much more. Triggering. Safe spaces. New rights being invented at a whim. Complaints about police shooting someone who was aiming a gum at them. Demands that the entire college faculty and administration serve under threat of firing, lest someone utter one word out of concert with the liberal orthodoxy.
Russia and other bad actors will meddle if they can. It seems the FBI, DNC and John Podesta made it easy. No one hacked the election, but it seems someone is trying to hack the anxious minds of leftist voters. The narrative is being written: Trump’s win was not legitimate. This is the baby blanket which the left will clutch over the next few years, allowing it to avoid the truth.
Like “Bush lied, people died,” or “hands up, don’t shoot,” or “it wasn’t me…” truth isn’t really a factor.