Déjà vu

My dad would stop by the airport LaRouche booths and argue with the nutjobs. Not sure why he found it amusing. He knew they were nuts, but he did it anyway.

“It’s easy enough to do now what the dominant news media of the time did: look back on LaRouche as a joke, a once-in-a-generation political aberration, a shooting-star buffoon. But when you tear him down to his studs, LaRouche was a white supremacist: a man high on his own supply who positioned himself as the sole savior of the planet; a man to whom no founding American ideal was sacred; a wealthy white man preying on both the insecurity and the credulity of others to enrich himself, while claiming to fight for the everyman; a bully who flipped on his loyalists whenever they ceased to be useful to him; a man who trafficked in myths of nonwhite savagery and conspiracies of absurdist proportions in which he was either the scapegoat or the savior. He was also a convicted felon running for office. He seemed so fringe to many that he could be laughed away or ignored altogether.

 

“Sound familiar?”

 

LaRouche was Trump before Trump.

https://www.thebeliever.net/my-fathers-shadow/?fbclid=IwY2xjawQ7cQJleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBicmlkETFOZ2NZVnRBSXREMVhuQmZBc3J0YwZhcHBfaWQQMjIyMDM5MTc4ODIwMDg5MgABHkakvInlYAasLDa8QF_jXb2C20HqkpyHQVBXFrB3A3GTZq2EV7EnCmib9glD_aem_Srt28AoPqYHuSyBcR9sYFQ

 

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