John Kasich, the former Ohio governor and self-styled voice of moderation, seems to inhabit a peculiar alternate reality where the tumultuous events of the past decade are conveniently erased. While the rest of the nation watched Democrats wage an unrelenting campaign against Donald Trump—marked by two impeachments, deplatforming from major social media, legal battles to remove him from ballots, crippling lawsuits, criminal indictments, and even rhetoric some interpret as inciting violence—Kasich appears oblivious. His recent musings on cable news panels and think tank forums paint a rosy picture of bipartisan comity, as if the vicious political trench warfare never occurred. This disconnect isn’t just baffling; it’s a willful denial of the raw, documented reality that millions lived through, from the Steele dossier to the January 6 hearings, which polarized the nation further. Kasich’s insistence on a kumbaya narrative feels like a man preaching civility in the middle of a street brawl, ignoring the brass knuckles and blood.

The evidence of this decade-long onslaught against Trump is undeniable, etched into public memory and archives. Democrats, with media allies, orchestrated a relentless push: the 2019 impeachment over Ukraine, the 2021 impeachment over January 6, Twitter’s 2021 ban of Trump’s account, lawsuits like New York’s $454 million civil fraud case, and 91 criminal charges across multiple indictments, some carrying decades in prison. Posts on X reflect a widespread belief among Trump’s base that these were coordinated hits, with 68% of Republicans in a 2024 Rasmussen poll agreeing Democrats sought to “destroy” him legally and politically. Some even point to inflammatory rhetoric—like Biden’s 2022 “threat to democracy” speech—as tacitly fueling assassination attempts, though no direct link is proven. Yet Kasich, with his trademark folksy shrug, sidesteps this storm, waxing nostalgic about a pre-Trump era of dealmaking that exists only in his head, blind to the scorched-earth tactics that defined the period.

On a visceral note, Kasich’s public persona takes another hit when he’s caught eating in front of cameras—a spectacle that turns stomachs as much as his political amnesia offends sensibilities. Whether it’s chomping on pancakes during a campaign stop or slurping soup at a diner, his open-mouthed, almost performative gusto feels like a culinary crime scene. Social media clips from 2016 to 2020, still circulating on X, mock his fork-waving, crumb-dropping style, with one viral post dubbing it “a food fight with himself.” It’s not just the messiness; it’s the oblivious enthusiasm, mirroring his tone-deaf take on politics. While the nation grapples with the scars of a decade-long vendetta against Trump, Kasich’s fantasy of unity—and his cringe-inducing table manners—make him a walking caricature of denial, blissfully detached from the world the rest of us endured.