The Great American Rerun: A Nationalist Pageant With Extra Nostalgia

The Conservative Revival Convention Circuit: Now With 70% More Daddies

Once, in the halcyon days of yore (or at least, the Reagan administration), conservative gatherings were the sort of places where bow-tied intellectuals and raucous activists convened to debate the finer points of tax brackets and the free market. But as with rotary phones and well-mannered political disagreements, those days have faded into sepia. Now, the conservative conference scene is a cornucopia of options—ranging from the meme-fueled revelry of Turning Point USA (founded by the late Charlie Kirk, a man whose energy could power a small city) to the National Conservatism Conference, known affectionately as NatCon, where the mood is equal parts "serious policy" and "audition tape for a historical reenactment."

This year, NatCon took to Washington, D.C., where the program included such palate-cleansing panels as "Overturn Obergefell" and "The Bible and American Renewal." One couldn't help but notice the mild understatement when speakers called for "limited immigration, Christian identity, and preservation of traditional culture"—a phrase that here means, "We liked the old menu, but could we get it with less freedom and more theocracy?"

Daddy Knows Best (And the Government Shouldn't Exist)

Among the luminaries was Russell Vought, a man who looked at the Government Accountability Office and thought, "Why have accountability at all?" Vought, whose philosophy is best summarized as "Rule first, ask Congress later," declared that if given too much authority, executive officials should wield it with the gusto of a toddler discovering crayons and an unguarded wall. His rallying cry: "You can just do things!"—a slogan sure to be remembered by future civics textbooks, right next to "Checks and Balances: Optional."

Elsewhere, the conference buzzed with paternalistic rhetoric about protecting the American people. The word "Daddy" was thrown around, sometimes in reference to certain political figures, perhaps out of nostalgia for simpler times when politics was less about policy and more about strong, reassuring voices telling everyone what to do.

Who Gets to Be American? The Audition Process

The event's showstopper was Missouri Senator Eric Schmitt, who delivered a speech titled "What is an American?"—a question apparently best answered by tracing one's ancestry to those who arrived on the Mayflower, ignoring a few centuries' worth of inconvenient history. According to Schmitt, the nation belongs to those who "tamed the continent" and whose forebears arrived by boat, never mind those forcibly brought in chains or those already living here when the boats arrived. Schmitt's message: America for the Pilgrim Progeny, everyone else please see yourselves out.

No mention, naturally, of Africans enslaved by these selfsame pilgrims—apparently, manifest destiny wasn't big on footnotes. The speech, laced with undertones from the Great Replacement Theory (a favorite among those who see demographic change as a horror movie), argued that America would simply cease to exist without its original cast. Somewhere, Abraham Lincoln's ghost attempted a facepalm.

Manufacturing Myths: Now With 100% More Nostalgia

Schmitt's rhetoric, according to those with long memories and a taste for history, was a microwaved serving of 1990s paleoconservative dogma, repackaged for the TikTok era. The strategy: craft a stirring nationalist myth where none existed, and hope nobody checks the citations. As one wag put it, when politics becomes an exercise in inventing a glorious past, it's time to worry less about the left-right spectrum and more about the history curriculum.

Conclusion: Freedom of Conscience—Terms and Conditions Apply

It would be easy to dismiss NatCon and its luminaries as just another episode in the long-running series, "Political Theater: American Edition." But as these ideas drift from the margins to the mainstream, the stakes grow higher. The right to think, believe, and dissent—once the pride of American political philosophy—now faces a stress test from those eager to streamline national identity. Freedom of conscience, it turns out, is a principle best defended before it becomes a museum exhibit.

So, as the curtain falls on another conference season, the omniscient observer can only wonder: will America stick with its original proposition, or opt for a reboot with a much smaller cast? Stay tuned—this rerun is just getting started.