In its political form, a “meh” might signify displeasure with American politics at large, but with none of the gushers of faux outrage and over-the-top feigned surprise that regularly festoon social media. (Remember, say, the trauma of the proposed Washington, D.C., military parade that was going to potentially end America as we know it and that inspired a brief burst of hysteria until everyone forgot about it a few days later? No? Ah ha! You might be a “meh.”)

As a “meh,” you might align with one political party — ahem, I’m sorry, political “tribe” — but in reality, that tribe frequently annoys and exasperates you and makes you wonder, at least once a week, why it even exists as an entity. You’re not the sort of rah-rah knee-jerk blinkered team player we’re so confidently told is on the rise. You just happen to think — based on actual policy preferences, not base caveman instinct — that the other side is worse. (This also explains the predicament of Evangelicals, by the way, who are often painted in the media as tribal robots. Many were reluctant Trump voters at best.)

Most significantly, the “mehs” have a crucial skill in this day and age: They understand the grand unifying theory of politics, which is that a frighteningly large percentage of the people involved in politics can be insufferable and wildly out of touch.