Editor’s note: This column is satire.
It’s so much worse than you suspected, Jim.
Jim Lyons, the former Massachusetts Republican Party chairman who lost his reelection bid on Tuesday, blames “nefarious schemes hatched by the liberals” for his undoing, in particular castigating the Globe for allegedly plotting against him.
If only you knew, Jim. If only you knew.
Actually, now that our dastardly scheme is consummated and Lyons is gone, defeated by Amy Carnevale, there’s probably no harm in coming clean. So on behalf of the liberal media, here’s the awful truth.
You aren’t paranoid. We were out to get you.
It all started, as such things typically do, on a hot night in Benghazi.
It was at Globe columnist Scot Lehigh’s annual Libyan beach party some time ago. I remember it well. As the sun set, George Soros played volleyball with Hunter Biden, Greta Thunberg cooked meat-substitute patties on an electric grill — and Charlie Baker beckoned reporters to his side for a private chat.
“This guy Jim Lyons,” said the governor, sipping anxiously on a soy latte. “I want him gone.”
This was before we unleashed the pandemic, mind you — and long before we were able to implant those mind-control Gates Foundation microchips with the vaccines.
So over a roaring bonfire of e-mails to Huma Abedin, we hatched a plan.
“Now, as you all know, the state’s sex-ed classes are really just a cover to indoctrinate children into critical race theory and they/their pronouns. But that only takes a few weeks max — or should I say, Marx,” Baker said with a chuckle. “What if we use the rest of the time to spread subconscious messages to children to turn against Jim Lyons?”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just zap him with the space laser?” I suggested.
“I wish,” Baker sighed. “But Hillary needs it full time to protect the child-sex trafficking ring at her pizza shop.”
We had to think. Antifa served another round of drinks, while the calming sound of Lizzo playing “The Internationale” on James Madison’s flute echoed across the sand.
“Maybe we could get Facebook to silence him, as it does to all principled conservatives?” I said. “I’m going to see Zuck at the next deep state picnic, I could ask him then.”
“Too obvious,” said Baker. “We can’t leave my fingerprints or those of any of our fellow Illuminati on this operation.”
“What about building a wind turbine next to his house to disrupt his circadian rhythm?”
“Takes too long,” said the governor, getting annoyed.
Just then the president of Ukraine walked by, offering borscht crudités and wiretaps of our enemies.
“Well, what if we just waited for Lyons to lose a few elections, spend all the party’s money, and then get into legal trouble? Then maybe the party will get rid of him on its own.”
“That’s perfect!” gasped Baker. “And it’ll be impossible to trace his demise back to our Satanist agenda!”
The next day we returned to Boston, spewing chemtrails in our wake — or should I say, woke. The plan to overthrow Lyons was in motion. All we had to do was … nothing.
You were the plan. And you never suspected it, Jim. You never suspected a thing.
Alan Wirzbicki is Globe deputy editor for editorials. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.