More accurate to say it's our generation's Goldwater.

I had a dream that I was on the horrible show (ran into a girl from there two days ago on the lot; I said "congratulations on not being in Georgia for Season 2!" and she laughed ran up and gave me a big hug) where the budget had been cut to the point where they decided that randomly chosen crew members had to be on-camera contestants so before I could put on my ENG rig I had to do 15 pullups to beat everyone else and when I lost they sat me down for an interview and I tried to guess exactly the right thing to say so they couldn't say I was non-responsive but the editors wouldn't bother using any of it and then when I got back to my car I ended up with a sound cart that I had to haul into work and they said "no, we're going over there, all the way to the oval office" and there was Trump at his most orange and Mark Cuban was holding a mic out to him that turned everyone's voices into farts. So I said "fuck this shit, we'll survive" and walked off the set and I woke up and I was holding my wife and fuck this shit, we'll survive.

On the flight back up to Seattle I ended up hanging out with three climate scientists on their way to a conference in Tasmania. They'll survive, too.

It may be a while before they get back to Tasmania, though.