Major publications each year publish those insipid “how to handle your racist uncle during the holidays” articles. They’re absolutely useless because nobody in America has a racist uncle — and if they do, they aren’t actually worried about him. But here’s something most Americans almost certainly do have: a miserable left-wing relative or close family friend who shows up at least once each year to make everyone uncomfortable.
The discomfort these guests impose has a range. It can be so subtle the victims aren’t even sure what’s causing it, or it can be so overt it results in verbal or even physical conflict. But it’s real, common, and a threat to holiday joy for all.
The danger most commonly manifests itself in the passive-aggressive dinner- or drinks-time dare. The septum-pierced undergrad who dares you to have a difference of opinion on Gaza being an “open-air prison.” The cat-lady aunt who dares you to say otherwise on the “threat to democracy” (anyone who disagrees with her, ie. you). The 30-something cuckold who dares you to have the wrong answer to his intrusive query of who “got their booster.”
They say what they want with impunity. The expectation is everyone present accepts it to get along. If not, the belief is you’ll be outsmarted and overwhelmed by their mastery of argument. Should they be countered with a superior, more popular perspective, the game isn’t over. They’ll scream. And just as likely, they’ll cry. Evening ruined. Mission accomplished.
Seemingly, there is no winning. Either nod along politely or engage, thus running the likely odds of escalating a conflict that ends ugly for all present parties. But there are other viable options when confronted with a miserable liberal on Thanksgiving. Consider one or all of the following, depending on the subject’s level of hostility.
Invite them to relax, cheer up, and share in the joy of the season. Happiness, amusement, and contentment are not the natural disposition of leftists. They prefer anger, self-righteousness, and dismay. The most wonderful time of year quickly approaches, though it makes no difference. But it very well might be because they don’t feel explicitly included by their family and loved ones. After all, leftists are nothing if not self-absorbed, neurotic, and needy. They often require extra attention if it means getting them to cooperate. When one seems ready to initiate a confrontation, perhaps suggest he or she — they/them — spare everyone the more serious topics of conversation and instead breathe a little, have a drink, and talk instead of sports, games, and romance.
With caution, engage the conversation. This option only works if done under the assumption the interaction is sure to become acrimonious. It’s nothing for a liberal to call family members — to say nothing of perfect strangers — racist, bigoted, and uneducated. Those are insults sure to be thrown by the wet blanket of a Thanksgiving guest, and just the same, they’re meaningless substitutes for reasonable debate and logic.
When the conversation, such that it can be called one, reaches that point, it’s best to calmly address the dunce with something like, “I’m glad you got that off your chest,” before turning attention to more interesting, enjoyable guests. There is no matching the emotional agony, anguish, and gloom of a liberal ready for a fight. Their despair is to be dismissed, not disputed. Besides, why should your own delightful spirit be diminished by the perpetually unhappy? It shouldn’t.
Belittle, debase, and denigrate the cheerless sourpuss. This is generally a last resort to cope with the miserable liberals known to repeatedly spread their blight in such gatherings; the ones who can be counted on to radiate discontent and decay, infusing holidays with their unique poison. Their opinions and views are inherently stupid and self-defeating, and they typically fly in the face of all life experiences. To call such assertions ridiculous, embarrassing, and thoughtless is both humorous and factual. It might also be necessary.
Once again, the tortured leftist will likely respond with venom. That’s expected. Wounded animals have no choice but to bite. And once again, there is nothing to be gained in trying to match his spite. It can’t be matched, and the attempt moves the liberal’s victim into his preferred territory: desolation. Simply shift focus to another guest.
I hope this helps, and happy Thanksgiving.
