As the Worm Turns

 “These are Shiite Republicans -- they don’t compromise, they don’t deal, they don’t look for the middle way. Because they believe they’re right. They think it’s them against evil. And everybody who ain’t them is evil. I’m just warning you: This is about to happen everywhere. The whole country is being turned into the state whose proudest boast is that sometimes we’re ahead of Mississippi.” Molly Ivins in 2003.

I’ll be honest: when I heard the news that Donald J. Trump, Melania Trump, and Hope Hicks had tested positive for Covid-19, my first thoughts were uncharitable. I stopped myself from thinking, “die motherfucker” but did briefly relish the irony of the leading pandemic denier contracting the virus that he repeatedly told the American people would go away like a miracle. For more than six months, Trump downplayed the seriousness of Covid-19, pushed bogus cures, ridiculed Americans who wear masks and practice social distancing and worry about sending their children to school. Trump thought his superior genes would protect him. 

Off to Walter Reed Hospital went Trump, a precautionary measure according to the reports I read. The problem with everything to do with Donald J. Trump is that the public doesn’t know what to believe, what’s true and what’s fiction. I think it’s fair to say that Trump had one of the shittiest weeks of his presidency. His shaky financial situation is back in the news, with the real possibility of more unflattering details to come; his unhinged, racist, rude and widely ridiculed debate performance on Tuesday night; and now, hospitalized with Covid. Trump’s on a losing streak and part of me says, long may it last. What goes around, comes around, sooner or later -- even for Trump. 

Every dog has his day, though it be nasty, brutish and short.

As Oliver Stone wrote in his memoir, Chasing the Light, “When you find yourself in a maze woven by a con man, there’s no exit.”

I also wondered if Trump’s diagnosis was a stunt, and I spent some time looking for an angle. Is Trump hiding behind the diagnosis to avoid a second debate and another shocking performance? Is he looking for a pretext to explain his likely defeat on November 3? Will he blame Covid for denying  him the opportunity to campaign? Plausible. “The Chinese virus ruined my chances of reelection. I couldn’t campaign. It was very unfair, Biden should have stopped campaigning while I was hospitalized. And by the way, Sleepy Joe never came to visit me. Before Covid attacked me very strongly, our campaign had tremendous enthusiasm and was way ahead of Biden in the polls. I would have won by the greatest margin in history, believe me.”

Trump’s fragile ego cannot handle a public defeat any more than it can handle being exposed as a business failure and tax evader. I even entertained the notion that Trump might drop out of the race, citing health reasons, roll the smoking Trump Dumpster into Pence’s front yard and let Christian Mike take the loss. Trump could then boast and brag that he is still undefeated, the greatest of all time. The problem in Trump World is that crazy shit seems possible. This is what happens when a leader lies non-stop for five years. As Oliver Stone wrote in his memoir, Chasing the Light, “When you find yourself in a maze woven by a con man, there’s no exit.”

Meanwhile, the GOP Dark Arts Agency is hard at its despicable work of ratfucking the vote. The Governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, may be confined to a wheelchair but the man still deserves an ass-kicking. Along with all the tried & true voter suppression tactics that Republicans have refined, Abbott ordered the elimination of ballot collection points in counties with concentrations of Democratic voters. If you can’t stop people from voting, then stop their votes from being tallied. I don’t know what Trump’s favorite henchman, Attorney General William Barr, is up to, but it’s not likely to be legal, moral, fair, or right. 

I keep hearing these imaginary dialogues between Vladimir Putin and Trump. 

The first thing, Donald -- you don’t mind if I call you Donald? Good. The leaders of two great countries, two great powers, should be on a first-name basis. Please call me Vladimir or Vlad, if you want. In a way, we’re brothers in arms, comrades. We share many interests, both as nations and as men. I’d offer you vodka but the KGB informs me that you are a teetotaller. Diet Coke is your beverage of choice. Mine is vodka. To me, vodka is Russia, its heart and history, its misunderstood nobility and spirit. Cheers! 

May I speak frankly, Donald? Will you allow me to be so bold as to offer some friendly advice? You see, I really believe we share some basic beliefs about how the world works. I believe in power, obtaining it through guts and cunning, then using it to reward allies and punish critics. Wielding power isn’t for the faint of heart. Most people are weak, they believe in institutions like the church and the courts, and they’re happy to wait for these institutions to deliver what they need. Men like you and me, Donald, don’t wait for others. We act. While others talk and muse and dream, we act. We take what we want. This is what sets us apart. There have always been men like us, and there always will be. Men with the nerve and the will to wield power. Sometimes you use a scalpel, other times a sledgehammer. Take control of your party first. Make it clear that you value loyalty -- to the party and its ideals, of course -- but also to you. Make the party your messenger. Teach the party that no middle ground exists. Party members must choose, in or out. 

Then get your arms around law enforcement and the spy agencies -- in your case, all 17 of them. I sometimes joke that this is an example of American excess. 17 spy agencies! Appointing people to key posts whose loyalty is unquestioned is more important than qualifications. Then bend the courts to your will. Appoint judges who see the world as you do. In your country judges are useful for silencing the opposition. Would you like another Diet Coke, Donald? I will have another vodka. May I ask you a personal question, Donald? What is so enjoyable about golf? 

The fat’s in the fire. The plot is confused and convoluted, a maze of dead ends. Dear Leader is running out of time and tricks. The virus he claimed was harmless has breached the walls of his house.