When I bought my 2008 Honda Civic, I didn’t expect it to come with political affiliations. But the moment I turned the ignition, the radio tuned itself to a government press briefing. The GPS rerouted me to Area 51 “for lunch.” And every time I try to roll down the windows, the national anthem starts playing. Folks, my car is definitely in the Deep State.
I tried reasoning with it. “Let me go to Target,” I said. The car responded by locking the doors and driving me to a FEMA camp-themed escape room. I’m not saying the vehicle is sentient, but I caught it watching CSPAN alone in the garage at 3 a.m. I think it might be running for local office under an alias.
I’ve accepted my fate. I no longer drive the car; I accompany it on classified missions. Last week, we followed a suspicious squirrel for 27 blocks. Yesterday, it tried to waterboard my glove compartment. Pray for me. And if you see a Civic whispering state secrets into a gas pump, mind your business.
