The day after the January 6 election integrity rally was infiltrated by FBI provocateurs, attacked by Capitol Police, and slandered as an “insurrection,” I was one of the first writers in America reckless enough to tell the truth. I wrote a column which appeared here on Jan. 8, 2021, “The Republic Has No Clothes: Lessons from Storming the Capitol.”

Knowing that lickspittle anti-Trump toadies (including some former friends) were already smearing critics of election fraud as members of a “Trump insanity pact,” I purposely made the piece as highbrow as possible to intimidate them into turning snobbery into silence. It worked. None of them ever mentioned me or contacted me again.

But those literary references weren’t just for decoration; I was making a point. We are living through something like a Greek tragedy, or a Kafka novel, or The Matrix:

Our efforts to demand an honest election were thwarted at every turn, like a hero in a Sophocles play trying to dodge his own destruction. The Deep State, like the Fates, slams the door and nails shut the window, then sits back and mocks its victims as they scramble. But to us that poignant spectacle of Americans defending their votes should evoke both terror and pity. For our countrymen and our families.