The Snake Oil Caucus Most middle aged Americans can smell political horseshit a mile away. We grew up with men selling miracle siding out of unmarked vans, fad diets out of church basements, and late night TV hawkers screaming about Bedazzlers, Chia Pets, and Flowbees like the fate of Western civilization depended on a plastic comb with delusions of grandeur. The voice changes. The confidence spikes. The facts thin out. Same act. Different suit. That is today’s politician. Only now the van has a campaign logo and the bullshit comes with subtitles. Well-dressed. Well-rehearsed. Eyes locked straight down the camera like they’re staring into the soul of a focus group in suburban Virginia. Selling salvation in clean sentences, backed by polling data, donor spreadsheets, and a consultant whispering which word tests better with “anxious independents.” No product. Plenty of promises. All of it sealed with moral certainty and a flag lapel pin. They no longer argue policy. They preach inevitabi...