Nikki Haley Roams Post-Apocalypse Hellscape That Was Once An Unwoke Nation Called America

In a land overrun by the woke mind virus, only the strong survive.

Oh my word, you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that! There’s all sorts of infected walking around out here! I almost shot you. As is still my right under the Second Amendment. America may have been overrun by these zombies, our government may have fallen, but here in South Carolina we still revere the Constitution.

Well okay, there was that one little time we didn’t. But otherwise ...

That’s right, I’m Nikki Haley . No, no need to call me “Governor.” That was all a long time ago. That was the Old Times. Now I’m just like you, wandering through the ruins of a nation shattered by social justice and sexually explicit library books, just trying to survive day to day.

I tried to warn everyone . I went on every TV show that would have me, every podcast, every conservative convention, and I said, over and over and over, this woke mind virus is the most dangerous virus imaginable. Just absolutely deadly. I said it will take our children from us, and damned if I wasn’t right. I mean, how many of our kids are out here refusing to say the Pledge of Allegiance and feeling guilty for being white?

Hell, warning people of the danger was the major reason I ran for president in the first place. That and being president. Or at least a Cabinet post.

Get down!

See that herd of infected walking across that field? They spot us, and we’re done for.

How can I tell they’re infected? Here, look through these binoculars. See how they’re all wearing rainbow T-shirts while waving DEI training pamphlets in the air? That’s a telltale sign of infection.

To think we spent so much of our time in the early 2020s fighting COVID, when this plague of wokeness was bearing down on us, threatening to swamp us like high tide at Hilton Head. There we were, getting our booster shots and social distancing and all that other crap, and all the while the woke virus was already in our bloodstreams, attacking our frontal lobes, turning us into zombies who do nothing but drool and shout our pronouns at each other.

Yeah, well, my pronouns are “I’m gonna kick some ass.”

Okay, yes, COVID was bad. It actually killed people. I know. It killed my sister-in-law! Poor Patty. Or whatever her name was, I don’t know, I didn’t pay much attention. Still, I’m glad she didn’t live to see this. I’m glad she didn’t live to see her sons go to Stanford Law School and yell at a federal judge about bigotry. (tearing up) My poor nephews. Trae and … Tronk, I think? Something like that.

Okay good, that herd is moving away from us. Come on, you want to stay alive and also whiny because you can’t call a transgender girl “him” without an army of the woke descending on you and tearing you limb from limb, you stay with me.

I’ve got a good place to hole up if you want. A bunch of us are living in the basement of the old Manhattan Institute on the edge of town. God, when I think about what the woke did when they tore through that place at the beginning of the outbreak. It’s awful. When we first set up camp there, we found so many bodies that they had defiled. We found Chris Rufo with a long list of microaggressions stapled to his forehead. Sometimes I wake up remembering how terrified he looked, his mouth open, screaming. I imagine I can hear him screaming ...

But yeah, we cleaned it up. We buried our dead. We made it as comfortable as we could. Which isn’t too comfortable, not in this world the woke left us. It’s certainly not some fancy Kiawah Island resort. But we’ve made it work. We’ve got food. We’ve got plenty of water and energy drinks. We’ve got so many books by Ilya Shapiro and Heather Mac Donald to pass the time.

Damn! Get down!

Okay, there’s just one of ‘em. Look through my rifle scope. See? Over there by the treeline? Wearing the Oberlin T-shirt and waving around his grad thesis on subverting gender paradigms in Victorian literature?

What am I doing? I’m gonna shoot him, of course. I know there are innumerable hordes of them roaming around moaning and trying to tear down Confederate monuments, but we’ve got to kill every one of ‘em we can. Otherwise they might infect others. There are still children in this post-apocalyptic world we must keep safe.

You just be ready to run. The noise may attract others. We don’t want that herd turning around and shambling this way.

Got him! Did you see that? Got him clean, I tell you. Whew. I winged one earlier and he just wandered in circles blubbering about plantation weddings until I got him again. He was tougher to get down than a vegan milkshake.

So whaddaya say? It’s getting on towards dark. We’d better start humping it if we want to get back to the basement. We sure don’t want to be out at night when all the antifa come out for their inequality protests. Better to live to fight another day, so sometime, hopefully soon, we can rebuild this fallen world.

[ Real Clear Politics ]

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