“The thing to worry about is meanings, not appearances.”—Michael Lesy, Wisconsin Death Trip, 1973 CECIL, WISCONSIN—I went back twice to find out what the coffin meant, but though cars came and went in the driveway, nobody ever answered the door. Halloween in June, or a sign? Kitsch, or a warning? I’d been driving for a week, since the first night of the January 6th hearings, listening to them on the radio as I counted the flags. Not the American ones but the Trump ones. Trump 2024, two years ahead of time; and the red, white, and blue of the Confederacy, the yellow “Don’t Tread on Me” Gadsden. There are so many now. There’s new folk art too: hand-painted “Fuck Biden” placards, homemade “Let’s Go Brandon” billboards, and DIY “Never Forget…