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David Hogg and the Performative Politics of the Democratic Party

Dear Reader (including the superstitious),  

I can’t stand David Hogg, the elvish progressive activist who was recently elected as a vice chair of the Democratic National Committee. From his introduction to the public during the heinous 2018 Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting (where his anti-gun outrage was entirely understandable), he has always struck me as the kind of precocious kid who knows exactly how to impress a certain kind of middle-aged lefty. He’s exactly what young people are supposed to be like in the eyes of a certain kind of affluent blue-bubble oldster. Full of invincible righteous arrogance and supreme confidence that the way you “effect change” is through performative protest, Hogg seems like he was bioengineered in a vat to impress Ivy League admissions officers and intern coordinators at Greenpeace. 

I am confessing my dislike for the guy as a Dispatchian service to readers who might be tempted to accuse me of being unduly biased. “Unduly” is in the eye of the beholder—or reader—but I admit my bias freely. In my ideal world, I wouldn’t feel compelled to write about him because he wouldn’t matter. He’d be just another minion in Elizabeth Warren’s Senate office annoying the chief of staff with memos about how he’s being underutilized (or maybe he’d be a Botox salesman making a fortune by telling metrosexual men he’s 15 years older than he really is). But precisely because he’s the kind of oleaginous creature designed to slide up the greasy pole of progressive politics, he’s landed a “leadership” position in the Democratic Party. 

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