I am not ashamed to admit to being petty (in this particular instance) when I tell you that one of the only things I look forward to anymore is picturing guys and gals like this when the civilization collapses.
Like right this very instance, I see George Will holed up in his penthouse apartment, with a box of stale crackers, (cannibalism?) cowering in his bedroom, as a dozen or so illegals are kicking down his door looking to redistribute the last of what he has left of value.
His security people will be amongst that gang, of course. They can sniff which way the wind is blowing.