The cultural turnaround has begun. And I’m happy to be part of it — unlike my former friends.
The biggest downside to being blocked by progressive former friends — like most in my old Hollywood circle — is I don’t get to observe their total breakdown as the liberal dreamworld crumbles around them. Yet every argument I made to them was exalted last Fourth of July, when President Trump and his gorgeous First Lady danced on the Truman Balcony as fireworks exploded over the incomparable Washington skyline. The couple were not only celebrating the 249th anniversary of the greatest country in the history of Earth but the best two weeks for any presidency in my lifetime. And though I couldn’t see or hear it, I could feel the wailing of my ex-mates all the way from the opposite coast.
