A virtual GOP convention of ghoulish clowns arrives
It’s hard to imagine a starker contrast than Joe Biden and Donald Trump.
The Democratic National Convention, as tightly choreographed as a Broadway production, was an anthem to decency, empathy and reason, framed with heartfelt stories and a seriousness of purpose. I can’t recall a more-solemn Barack Obama, who exchanged his hope-and-change template for one of direness-and-urgency.
In role reversal, Kamala Harris traded her more-familiar prosecutorial assassin persona for the private face of “Momala,” the brightly smiling daughter of an immigrant mother and stepmom whose daughter testified to her family-focused bona fides. Harris’ dazzling smile betrayed an almost girlish giddiness at what seemed to be her delight in her own presence at this unprecedented intersection of aspiration and history.
Decency, empathy and reason are, of course, the opposite of what one sees or expects from Trump. His indecent dog whistles to America’s underbelly, his winks at racists and misogynists; his utter lack of empathy; his rejection of reason and science regarding COVID-19 — all point to a man who never should have become president in the first place. And, yet, he did — and he could win again if Democrats fail to recognize the reasons he won in the first place: His supporters didn’t feel that Hillary Clinton or the Democrats had their backs. Trump heard them and promised to fight for them. It’s as simple as that.
Biden, to his credit, extended an olive branch to those who might not vote for him, saying, “While I will be a Democratic candidate, I will be an American president.” Trump has never made any such gesture. He prefers to divide and conquer. When Clinton said that she wished Trump could have been presidential, I thought: I wish he could have been human.
Republicans now get their turn at the virtual convention, which will feature more live voices and a semblance of a real crowd. I imagine an array of circus acts involving non-Hollywood performers jumping through hoops of inflammatory rhetoric. You know, regular folks such as MyPillow CEO Mike Lindell, who has hawked the potentially toxic coronavirus “cure,” oleandrin. Next, I foresee QAnon candidate Marjorie Taylor Greene, who just won the Republican Georgia primary.
Finally, Trump has reported conferring with God about the economy, mostly telling God what a great job he (Trump) had done, to which God allegedly replied, “now we’re going to have you do it again,” Trump said at a Minnesota rally. I expect a deus ex machina of some sort, perhaps a papier mache replica of Trump himself, posing as Zeus hurling thunderbolts across the stage, or, perhaps, Plutus, the Greek god of wealth, tossing gold coins and plastic beads into the roaring crowd.
And of course members of The Family will appear, though I don’t expect video reels of grandchildren testifying to Trump’s warmth or his empathy. Think of those moments as product placements. Trump clearly believes he is creating America’s Next Top Political Dynasty, and the convention may give us a clue about whether that idea is stuck in development or moving closer to production.
It’s a terrible time to be a conservative, in other words. You hate the Democratic platform, but you can’t abide Trump. Which party keeps the best company? Biden with protesters and climate control dreamers? Or Trump, who embraces QAnon and white supremacists?
Unless he pulls a vaccine from his sleeve Thursday, I’m placing my bets on the goodness of the American people. My wager is that most would prefer a guy from Scranton, whose moral compass has been forged through suffering and humility, to a quack from Queens, whose moral compass is a wheel of fortune, where the needle always lands on Me.