Trump loves schlock, shock, and chaos, especially when the theater is on fire.
Image: Reuters |
Remember
that day in mid-June, 2015, when Donald Trump rode his golden escalator
down into the depths, digging deep into a Chaplinesque version of
Benito Mussolini as he announced he was going to run for president and
not only save a dying America but build a great wall and make Mexico pay
for it ? Remember how we laughed?
I
wasn’t the only one who saw his imperious ride down the escalator as
tongue-in-cheek performance art, a bid to push that crazy idea he’d been
tossing around for years — a run for the presidency — and,what the
hell, give it another shot. He drew the cameras and the crowds, and his
addiction for attention got the hit of all hits.
Remember
his nonsensical attacks on President Obama, pretending he had proof
Obama wasn’t born in Hawaii but in Africa, where Trump’s agents were
already scouring the countryside, talking to people who, he said, swore
they remembered his birth, swore they saw the future president in
swaddling clothes? Remember when he promised to reveal all? Soon?
He
knew he had nothing. WE knew he had nothing. But he got the attention
he craved and he rewarded us by giving us something to talk about.
Getting
attention is everything to Donald Trump. He craves attention and it’s
an addiction that consumes him. He ran for president, not because he and
he alone had to chops to get the job done, but because he craves
attention. (It’s clear he never expected to win. It was never his intention.)
When
he saw he would be just one of 12 other candidates on the debate stage,
he knew he couldn’t compete politically so he chose to do the thing he
does best: He went all entertainer. He built an act around teasing and
tormenting his fellow candidates. He called them silly names. He made
airy promises that nobody in their right mind believed. When he wasn’t
painting the government as weak and inept, he was sloshing bright red
MAGA paint all over a government he portrayed as dark and sinister.
People
— even those who saw right through him — sat up and took notice. The
press loved him. The deplorables loved him. And he loved that he finally
found something that would make them love him.
Nothing
excites Trump’s Vaudevillian brain more than a rapt audience. So to
that eternal question, “Is he serious?” — no, he’s not serious. This is
what he lives for.
When he uses the words “beautiful” and “fun” in totally inappropriate sentences, (“Kim Jong Un writes me the most beautiful letters”. “Are you having fun? This is fun. Right?”)he
wants us to be entertained. It keeps us from looking beyond his
carefully built caricature to see how ugly his ugly side really is.
But
he’s a weak man, a pretender, and he can’t go on hiding his weaknesses
behind a clown face forever. He is not a president. He’s not even a
comic example of a president. He’s a menace because he isn’t serious,
and he isn’t serious because that would require studying and
contemplation — two things this president works overtime avoiding.
His
only function is to keep the Trump legend alive. We knew before he was
president that he’d go to any lengths to promote himself. We knew, for
example, that he became “John Barron” and sometimes “David Dennison”,
pretending to be his own press agent. We heard the tapes of his phone
calls and recognized not just his voice but his distinctive speech
patterns. We knew it was him. He denies it.
We
knew he was dishonest and corrupt and given to fits of red hot revenge,
but if we thought we could shame him by exposing him, we learned early
on it was a lost cause. He feels no shame, no remorse, no regret, no
guilt. Any human feelings were long ago replaced by his need to build
the character he plays into someone the world would see as heroic.
We’ve
suspected there’s something more — that he’s not all there —but we keep
waiting for the constitutional checks and balances to kick in. It stops
being funny when this president uses his formidable powers to attack
and destroy at will, and counts on his popularity to keep the madness
going.
Under
his watch real people, including refugee families held at the border
and often separated from their children, are suffering in ways so
horrific we want not to believe it.
Under
his watch the economic and military experts, the scientists, the
teachers — the country’s caretakers — have been labeled inept and
rendered useless.
Under his watch our infrastructure and our safety nets are disappearing.
Under his watch thousands of brown-skinned hurricane victims have been left to die.
We’re
in deep trouble, but in order for Trump to keep it from seeming as
impossibly awful as it is, he has learned to go for the giggle. How bad
can he be if he can make people laugh?
So
when he says he wants to buy Greenland, or be president forever, or
maybe even be God’s chosen one, he anticipates the deliciously
satisfying fuss and he can forget for that moment that he may someday be
indicted for various criminal activities, that history will not be kind
to him, that the stage lights will dim and the crowds will disappear
and he’ll go back to being that Donald Trump that nobody liked, that
Donald Trump that everyone saw as a joke.
It’s those last laughs that will finally get him.
. . .
(Cross-posted at Indelible Ink)
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