I like to think I coined a new term: Republican Fan Fiction. It started as a joke. I began using the hashtag #republicanfanfiction to poke fun at the fictional stories spun by creators and commenters in conservative circles. At first, it was just for laughs. But then I noticed something interesting: right-wingers didn’t have a ready comeback. It wasn’t in their script. Partly because they’d never been confronted with the term before.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized this term wasn’t just a joke—it was a perfect description of the narrative ecosystem created by the right-wing media machine. I may not have invented the term, but I believe it’s one that needs to be used more. At its core, Republican Fan Fiction encapsulates the fantastical, often exaggerated stories that dominate conservative media—stories that blur the line between fact and fiction, all in service of building a loyal, emotionally invested audience. In other words, a cult.

But why call it “fan fiction”? Because, like the fan fiction we see in pop culture, these narratives are built on a foundation of existing characters, themes, and ideologies. They spin kernels of truth into elaborate, sensational tales designed to entertain, provoke, and—most importantly—keep people coming back for more. The difference is that this fan fiction isn’t about Harry Potter, Star Wars, Star Trek, or Marvel superheroes. It’s about politics, power, and fear. And it’s shaping how millions see the world along with their decision-making.

The Rise of the Right-Wing Media Machine

The origins of this phenomenon can be traced back to the rise of right-wing talk radio in the late 20th century. It began with Paul Harvey, a pioneer of commentary that blended news, opinion, and entertainment. Harvey had a hypnotic baritone voice and a gift for storytelling. Growing up, I would listen to him with my grandfathers. As far as I can remember, listening to The Rest of the Story was practically a requirement in our household.

I also recall an interview with Harvey where a reporter asked why he didn’t cover more good news. His response was blunt: “Good news doesn’t sell.” He pointed out that there had been multiple attempts at selling good news, but they all went bankrupt. It was a revealing moment. Harvey understood the power of drama, conflict, and sensationalism—ingredients that would later define the right-wing media machine.

Hosts like Rush Limbaugh built on Harvey’s foundation, but they took it to a new level. Limbaugh’s political commentary wasn’t just about blending news and opinion—it was about weaponizing discontent. He tapped into people’s fears, prejudices, and frustrations, packaging them as entertainment. To the average listener, it sounded like information—authoritative, urgent, and often alarming. But beneath the surface, it was something else entirely.

At first, these programs were rooted in facts, with a dash of fiction added for dramatic effect. The goal was to make the content engaging to keep listeners hooked. But over time, the balance began to shift. Hosts realized that the more sensational the story, the more people tuned in. And the more people tuned in, the more money they made. So, the fiction grew. And grew. And grew.

Today, much of what passes for news in right-wing media is primarily fiction, with just enough fact sprinkled in to give it a veneer of credibility. It’s a carefully crafted illusion to keep audiences emotionally invested and financially supportive.

The Role of Fear, Ambiguity, and Uncertainty

What makes this fan fiction so effective is its reliance on fear, ambiguity, and uncertainty. These are powerful emotional triggers, and they’re used masterfully by right-wing media to keep audiences engaged. Whether it’s the fear of losing cultural dominance, the ambiguity of conspiracy theories, or the uncertainty of a changing world, these narratives tap into deep-seated anxieties and offer simple, often misleading, explanations.

For example, consider the way certain media outlets have portrayed immigration, climate change, or election integrity. The facts are often distorted or ignored entirely, replaced by sensational stories that stoke fear and outrage. These stories aren’t meant to inform but to entertain and manipulate. And they’re incredibly effective at doing so.

The Expansion of the Ecosystem

While talk radio and Fox News pioneered this approach, the ecosystem has expanded dramatically and exponentially in recent years. The internet, podcasts, and social media influencers have all joined the fray, creating a vast network of content creators who feed off each other’s narratives. This has created a feedback loop where the most extreme and sensational stories rise to the top, drowning out more nuanced and factual reporting.

The result is a media landscape where truth is increasingly irrelevant. What matters is the story—the more outrageous, the better. And as long as the story aligns with the audience’s preconceived beliefs, they’ll keep coming back for more.

Why Call It “Republican Fan Fiction”?

So, why use the term Republican Fan Fiction? Because it accurately describes what’s happening. These narratives are not journalism. They’re not even traditional propaganda. They’re stories that take real-world elements and twist them into something new, designed to entertain and manipulate.

But it doesn’t stop there. What makes this fan fiction particularly powerful is how it’s co-created by its audience. This is where the concept of the fantasy chain comes into play. In communication theory, a fantasy chain refers to how groups collectively build and sustain shared narratives. It’s not just the media hosts or influencers who create these stories—it’s also the followers who contribute to them, often in the comment sections of articles, social media posts, and videos.

When a right-wing media personality spins a sensational tale, the audience doesn’t just passively consume it. They actively participate. They add their own twists, embellishments, and interpretations in the comments, creating a feedback loop that reinforces and expands the original narrative. One person’s conspiracy theory becomes a group’s shared reality. A single exaggerated claim evolves into an elaborate saga, with each comment adding another layer to the story.

Recent examples of these narratives include claims that millions of dollars were spent on condoms for Hamas, hundreds of thousands of dollars on coffee for government officials, and heroic bikers saving the day from imagined threats. More resilient examples, like the myth of the “Clinton crime family,” persist for decades despite being thoroughly debunked. And let’s not forget the ever-present boogeymen: Satanists, communists, and other shadowy figures who supposedly lurk behind every corner of American life.

This collaborative storytelling is what makes Republican Fan Fiction so sticky. It’s not just a top-down narrative imposed by media elites—it’s a communal effort. The audience becomes part of the story, investing their time, energy, and emotions into its creation. This sense of ownership makes it harder for individuals to question the narrative because doing so would mean questioning their own contributions to it.

By calling it fan fiction, we shine a light on this dynamic. We remind people that these narratives are not grounded in objective reality but in collective imagination. They are stories spun and sustained by a community of believers. And just like any piece of fan fiction, they can be compelling, creative, and even entertaining—but they are not valid.

We can begin to break its spell by calling it what it is. When we label these narratives as fan fiction, we strip away their veneer of credibility. We remind people that what they consume is not reality but a carefully crafted fantasy. And for some, that realization can be the first step toward breaking free.

A Path to New Scripts

Ultimately, this term aims to help people develop new scripts—new ways of thinking about the world that are rooted in facts, not fiction. It’s about encouraging critical thinking and media literacy and challenging the narratives that have come to dominate our political discourse.

By calling out Republican Fan Fiction for what it is, we can start to reclaim the truth. And in doing so, we can begin to build a more informed, more rational, and more compassionate society.

Do you agree or disagree with calling these narratives Republican Fan Fiction? I want to hear from you whether you see it as a fitting label or think it misses the mark. This blog, along with my social media presence, is a space to explore these ideas further, to challenge the stories we’re told, and to imagine new ways of thinking about politics and media. My goal is to spark conversations, encourage critical thinking, and, ultimately, help people break free from the grip of these fantastical narratives.