A couple nights ago I was at a steakhouse eating pasta while the guy across from me ate some long, studded, paprika-dusted length of octopus and we were both on our second Peroni, talking for a while about the fitness documentaries we watch, and then after that we talked for a bit about marvel and the news of the day, and then at one point he says to me, apropos of pretty much nothing, that white nationalists are just people who love their country, and that to call them all racists is a reflection of the “pussification” of America, that “everyone’s a pussy these days,” and then the table gets quiet and we all just chew for a while.

            There’s a third guy at the table who’s been saying nothing this whole time.

            Finally, after about a minute, the dude across from me says, reaching for his glass and looking like he knows he got outta hand there: “Obviously I don’t go talking politics with most people.”

            Now the quiet guy speaks up, quick and loud: “Thank God.”