Apple-cheeked revolutionary Connor is actually Drew Carey’s son
Last Friday, the morning of Donald Trump’s presidential inauguration, there was one healing salve: the image of Connor, a scrappy young hell-raiser straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, who was so pissed off at the state of things that he was forced to create a fire, such that the destruction in the world might match the boiling rage within his heart. When asked by the newsman why he did so, Connor replied, “Because I felt like it, and because I’m just saying… Screw our president!” He then sort of Hulked at the camera and disappeared into the rabble, presumably to help topple a car, distribute uncompromising hard-left pamphlets, punch a sitting U.S. Senator, and create abrasive postindustrial mixtapes using copyrighted material.
Also, at one point the newsman called him Carter, which Connor did not for a second accept. “It’s Connor,” he said, waiting for the bumbling incompetent to correct himself.