It is difficult to watch the news these days without wondering if we stumbled into a late-night sketch. Promises sound like rehearsed punchlines, debates look like shouting matches, and campaign rallies resemble concerts more than civic discussions. In In the Middle of Crazy and Down the Rabbit Hole, Lenore Danae takes this absurd reality and sharpens it with satire. Through her lens, what we experience as frustrating becomes almost comedic—except that the consequences are real, and they fall on ordinary people.
I often think about how politics once felt distant, like a serious room we were only occasionally invited into. Today, it is everywhere: in our phones, on every screen, even shaping how neighbors talk across the fence. But the seriousness has thinned. Leaders look less like decision-makers and more like performers rehearsing for applause.
The Cameras Encourage Drama Because Calm Does Not Sell
When a storm is brewing, it gets the headline. A steady solution rarely makes the cut. News outlets know this, and so do the politicians who depend on them. A fiery soundbite spreads faster than a thoughtful plan. A staged walkout is remembered longer than a detailed policy. The cameras eat it up because we do, too. Danae’s satire captures this hunger for drama, reminding us that it is not harmless entertainment. It changes how we see truth itself.
Think about the last time you scrolled through a news feed. Did you pause for a calm explanation, or did your attention stick to the clip with shouting, insults, and spectacle? Most of us are guilty of the latter, and that is precisely why leaders lean into it. The theater works because the audience shows up.
Division Has Become A Script We Keep Rehearsing Without Question
Politics has always carried conflict, but today’s division feels manufactured. Networks tailor their content for specific audiences, and leaders echo the same lines back to their base. Citizens absorb these scripts until arguments sound less like personal convictions and more like memorized roles. Danae writes with sharp humor about this endless rehearsal of division, but beneath the laughter sits a painful truth: as long as we are fighting each other, those in power remain comfortable.
It is not hard to see why division is profitable. Outrage keeps us watching. Anger keeps us engaged. Fear makes us return for more. But what slips away while we are busy fighting? Infrastructure crumbles, healthcare costs soar, global challenges mount. Danae does not need to exaggerate these failures—she only needs to point at them with wit, because they are already standing in plain sight.
Citizens Are The Ones Left Holding The Bill For The Show
One of the strongest points Danae drives home is that the drama might amuse the actors, but the costs do not fall on them. They still draw salaries, enjoy benefits, and play to the cameras. Meanwhile, citizens are the ones waiting in hospitals, paying inflated prices, or working multiple jobs to stay afloat. The show entertains, but the bill lands in our mailboxes.
It reminds me of a conversation with a friend who said politics today feels like professional wrestling: the fights are exaggerated, the rivalries scripted, yet tickets keep selling. The difference, of course, is that wrestling fans know it is theater. We cannot say the same for politics.
Accountability Can Only Return If We Refuse To Clap For The Act
Danae’s satire does not simply mock—it asks readers to reflect. If leaders treat politics like theater, it is partly because we allow them to. If media thrives on outrage, it is because we keep rewarding it with clicks and views. This is not comfortable to admit, but it is crucial. The performance ends only when the audience demands something better.
The question is whether we will. Do we still expect leaders to act with substance, or have we grown so comfortable with the circus that we mistake it for democracy? Danae does not give a neat answer in In the Middle of Crazy and Down the Rabbit Hole. Instead, she presses the reader to sit with the discomfort.
The Curtain Will Not Fall Unless We Pull It Down Ourselves
Entertainment fades when the show ends. Politics should not. Danae’s book forces us to consider what it means when the show never stops, when every headline is a punchline, and when truth itself is drowned out by spectacle.
The haunting part is not that leaders act like performers. It is that citizens risk becoming an audience who forgets they were supposed to be participants. The final cost is not just confusion or frustration—it is the erosion of accountability itself.