Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Once upon a time, in the enchanted land of Right-Wing Make-Believe, there arose a fearsome menace called ANTIFA™ — an all-powerful, shadowy organization that apparently has offices, board meetings, a treasurer, and maybe even a seasonal bake sale. According to the fair and balanced storytellers of the realm, Antifa has HR policies, a pension plan, and an annual retreat where members gather to decide which American city they’ll “destroy” next — usually right after brunch.

Enter Pam Bondi (AKA) DOJ Barbie, standing gallantly before the cameras, hair perfectly sprayed into immovable formation, announcing that they would “tear down Antifa brick by brick!” — which is quite the heroic declaration considering there are no actual bricks, or buildings, or anything tangible to tear down. But logic never stopped a good political performance. No, ma’am. This was a crusade against a ghost — a federally funded séance to exorcise a spirit that only exists in their own talking points.

In Pam’s grand fantasy, Antifa isn’t just an ideology or a loosely connected label slapped on anyone who dislikes fascism. Oh no. It’s a full-blown global cabal. There’s probably a central office somewhere — maybe in Portland, next to the vegan donut shop — where the Antifa Board of Directors convenes. Picture them there: Chairperson of Chaos calling the meeting to order, Treasurer of Turmoil approving the budget for Molotov cocktails, Secretary of Smashing Stuff taking minutes (“motion to adjourn — seconded by Anarchy itself”).

Meanwhile, in the real world, the rest of us are scratching our heads thinking, “You do know Antifa literally just means anti-fascist, right? As in… people who think fascism is bad?” But Pam and friends are undeterred. Facts are boring. Reality doesn’t trend. What does trend is righteous indignation delivered from behind a lectern with an American flag in the background and the words LAW AND ORDER scrolling at the bottom of the screen.

So the DOJ heroes ride forth to dismantle the Imaginary Empire of Antifa — launching investigations into vapor, compiling dossiers on shadows, and holding press conferences to announce the capture of nobody in particular. It’s performance art disguised as policy — like spending millions to arrest the Tooth Fairy or subpoenaing Bigfoot.

And yet, every time the crusade is questioned, we get the same dead-serious look and the same trembling voice declaring, “We will root them out!” Root out what, exactly? Dissent? Disagreement? People who don’t think goose-stepping is cool? The absurdity writes itself.

So here’s the fairy tale ending: Pam Bondi and her Trump loyal DOJ stand proudly atop the ruins of nothing at all, declaring victory over the great invisible enemy. Confetti rains down, headlines roll, and the nation is once again saved from an organization that doesn’t even exist.

Somewhere, Mary Shelley is probably shaking her head — because this isn’t the reanimation of dead flesh. It’s the resurrection of dead logic. And it’s alive, ALIVE… at every campaign rally near you.