You don't have to tell sane people we live in a country these days that's lost its damn mind. All you have to do is doomscroll social media to understand the Tinfoil Hat Brigade has breached the ramparts and is loose in the courtyard, swinging wildly at transgenders or Canadians or some other menacing phantom.
Deport 'em all, every one of them. Throw 'em down a Salvadoran hole along with all those Venezuelan-Haitian gangster/rapist/Tyson-chicken-plant workers, or diverse equitable inclusion-ers, or anyone with a green card who expresses an opinion the Regime deems unacceptable.
Which is to say, the kooks are driving the bus now. Yahoo.
This apparently is also true down in West Virginia, where folks are mighty angry at Mountaineers basketball coach Darian DeVries for scamming them into believing he thought Morgantown was almost heaven. Silly them. How were they to know he actually meant Bloomington, In.?
That's where DeVries is now, as the new head coach at Indiana University. Turns out Morgantown was just where he changed planes, because one year after he plighted his troth to the Mountaineers, the Hoosiers called and he came running.
This of course has sent some West Virginia loyalists down the conspiracy rabbit hole, America being the half-mad cauldron of paranoia it's become. DeVries lighting out for Indiana, according to this crowd, was a setup deal all along. It was in the works as far back as the beginning of this season, the narrative goes. And the injury to his son Tucker, a 6-7 guard of some repute?
Totally bogus, say the rabbit-holers. You think it's a coincidence, they say, that he got "hurt" right after Mike Woodson announced he was stepping down at IU? When the only way Tucker could get another season of eligibility and follow his dad to IU was with a medical redshirt?
Why, some of the fringe-iest of the fringe element even say Indiana asked the NCAA tournament selection committee leave the Hoosiers out, because if Woodson made a deep valedictory run it would mess up the clean passing of the torch AD Scott Dolson and Co. had been planning since -- again -- the first of this season. Or, hell, maybe since last summer for all anyone in Morgantown knows.
Me?
I'm still wondering how Jim West always had exactly what he needed in the heel of his boot in "The Wild, Wild West." But that's just me.
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