Staying in the cult.

 As Trump’s behavior grows more erratic by the day, even some of the faithful Hoopleheads seem uneasy. The cult used to wear the uniform proudly — red hats in every grocery store aisle, giant flags flapping from lifted pickups, bumper stickers screaming loyalty to the King. Lately? Not so much. The hats are disappearing. The noise is quieter. Maybe the spell is wearing off.

The gas pump has always been the true church of the dingers. They can overlook the lies, the corruption, the grifting, the endless whining, and even an attack on the Capitol. But hit a Hooplehead in the wallet while he’s filling up his F-250 and suddenly patriotism gets complicated. Nothing shakes blind devotion like paying another twenty bucks at the pump.

Even some of the smarter cult members are beginning to ask uncomfortable questions. Why is Trump glorifying and financially rewarding people who smashed their way into the Capitol? Why does every “patriot” scheme somehow end with money flowing into Trump’s pocket? Why does the man who promised to “drain the swamp” surround himself with con artists, conspiracy merchants, and political carnival barkers?

The cult was never built on ideas. It was built on grievance, anger, and the comforting fantasy that every problem in America is somebody else’s fault. College education won’t usually get you into the cult because higher education tends to encourage skepticism, curiosity, and the dangerous habit of asking for evidence. The MAGA movement survives on emotion, not logic.

But reality has a way of leaking through even the thickest skulls. When groceries cost more, when retirement accounts wobble, when chaos becomes exhausting, even the Hoopleheads start wondering if the King has no clothes. Some will never admit they were conned. Pride is too powerful. But you can see the cracks forming.

The loudest people at the Tea Party meetings used to act like Trump was a cross between John Wayne and Jesus Christ. Now some of them just look tired. They still repeat the slogans, but without the same sparkle in their eyes. The carnival act is getting old. Rage can only carry a movement so far before people start asking what exactly they got in return.

Maybe the cult isn’t dead yet. But maybe the melting has begun.