So I did the Tucker Carlson Show.
That’s right, I flew back to the USA (again), rented a car, drove up to Tucker’s place in Maine, had breakfast with Tucker and his crew, and talked with Tucker about the new second edition of my book The Rise of the New Normal Reich: Consent Factory Essays, Vol. III (2020-2021), with a Foreword by Tucker Carlson, published by Skyhorse Publishing under its Tucker Carlson Books imprint.
Which … I’m pretty sure that makes me a Nazi.
I guess I was already kind of a Nazi, at least according to the German authorities who have been prosecuting me for “hate crimes” for the last four years, allegedly because of the cover of the book, but really because I compared them to the Nazis in the book, which, in addition to prosecuting me, they banned (i.e., not the new second edition of the book published under the Tucker Carlson Books imprint with the juicy Foreword by Tucker Carlson, the first edition, which I self-published in 2022 under my Consent Factory Publishing imprint, and which I was forced to withdraw from distribution to prevent the German authorities from sending armed police to raid my home again, as they did at dawn one morning last year).
Anyway, the point is, I now have Tucker Carlson’s Nazi cooties, or Tucker has mine. I mean, we sat across a table from each other—actually, across two different tables, one during breakfast, and then a different table, the one with the antler candelabra over it—and talked to each other. We talked to each other for at least ninety minutes, which, according to the authoritative AI thing I consulted this morning, is more than enough time for Nazi-cootie transmission to occur, although I haven’t taken a Nazi-cootie test or anything, and, as far as I know, neither has Tucker.
The interview went relatively well, I think. We talked about all kinds of Nazi stuff, like freedom speech, the criminalization of dissent, the working classes, globalization, and so on. You can watch it on the Tucker Carlson Network. I don’t think you can get Nazi cooties through the Internet.
Seriously, live dangerously, give it a viewing. And please consider buying a copy of the second edition of the book, even if you have the first edition. I don’t want to sound too up my own ass, but if you do have a copy of that first edition, you might want to wrap that one up in cellophane and store it away, because it’s permanently out-of-print and might be worth a bit of money someday. Plus, the second edition has an introduction by me and that big juicy Foreword by Tucker Carlson, and … well, if it sells fairly well, that will annoy the hell out of the German authorities.
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CJ Hopkins
October 6, 2026
DISCLAIMER: The preceding essay is entirely the work of our in-house satirist and self-appointed political pundit, CJ Hopkins, and does not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of the Consent Factory, Inc., or its staff, or any of its agents, subsidiaries, or assigns. If, for whatever inexplicable reason, you appreciate Mr. Hopkins’ work and would like to support it, please go to his Substack page, or his Patreon page, or send a contribution to his PayPal account, so that maybe he’ll stop coming around our offices trying to hit our employees up for money. Alternatively, you could purchase his satirical dystopian sci-fi novel, Zone 23, or Volumes I, II, III, and IV of his Consent Factory Essays, or any of his subversive stage plays, which won some awards in Great Britain and Australia. If you do not appreciate Mr. Hopkins’ work and would like to write him an abusive or threatening email, feel free to contact him directly.
