Michael DEACON
Donald Trump used to have a great gift for insults. Crooked Hillary. Lyin’ Ted. Little Marco. Cryin’ Chuck. These nicknames were cruel, unfair, and often hypocritical. But they worked. They were snappy, they were catchy, they undermined Trump’s opponents. They did their job.
Lately, however, Trump seems to have lost his touch. His nickname for Joe Biden is “Sleepy Joe”. By Trump’s standards, this is weak. In fact, it may even be playing into Biden’s hands.
In 2016, Americans elected the star of a reality TV show – and they’ve been living in a reality show ever since. The outrage, the rows, the meltdowns. The rancour, the vulgarity, the crushing relentlessness. This presidency has been a four-year-long series of Big Brother, screened 24 hours a day.
I remember when Big Brother started. At first it seemed exciting, daring, unlike anything that had gone before. Sure, it offended people. But, for its fans, that was part of the appeal.
After only a few years, though, the excitement had completely worn off. The ever-escalating ugliness had ground viewers down. The shocking had grown boring. A weary nation turned over and started watching The Great British Bake Off instead. Just nice people, baking nice cakes. What a nice change.
America may well know the feeling. After the exhausting pandemonium of the past four years, the idea of being led by someone “sleepy” – someone placid, genial, innocuous – must sound extremely tempting.
Millions have watched the video clip of “Sleepy Joe” giving encouragement to a young boy who has a stutter ( just like Biden himself had, at the same age). “Don’t let it define you,” says Biden gently, placing an arm around the boy’s shoulder. “You’re smart as hell, you really are. You can do this…”
That clip neatly sums Biden – or at least, his political persona. Basically: he’s James Stewart. . Not the actual James Stewart (who, as it happens, was a staunch, lifelong Republican), but the kind of characters James Stewart was famed for portraying. Modest, unflashy. Thoughtful, polite, sympathetic.
And, above all, decent – in a homely, small-town, aw-shucks-ma’am kind of way. If that isn’t the real Biden, it is, at any rate, the part he’s playing in this campaign. And he’s been playing it very well.
Probably Stewart’s best-loved role is George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. George is up ag against Henry F Potter: a heartless, greedy, bullying businessman who’s only out for himself.
For most of the film, the townsfolk are in despair. But everyone knows how it ends.
The pandemic is making me terribly n neurotic.
For example: if I’m walking down the street and I see so someone much older coming to towards me, I automatically cross to the other side. Well, the pavements are narrow, social distancing is impossible, the elderly are the most at risk…
Am I overdoing it? I don’t know. It seems only polite. But then, maybe that’s not how it comes across. If you’re elderly, and everywhere you go you find people crossing the street to avoid you – maybe it just feels rude. Or at the very least patronising.
I can hardly ask, though. If I’m, say, 20 feet away, I can’t just shout, “GOOD MORNING, SIR/MADAM! BEFORE I COME ANY CLOSER, WOULD YOU PREFER ME TO CROSS THE STREET, IN ORDER TO MINIMISE THE RISK OF VIRAL TRANSMISSION? OR WOULD YOU FIND THAT UNNECESSARY, AND EVEN QUITE INSULTING? IN FACT, ARE YOU INSULTED THAT I’M ASKING? I MEAN, IS IT A REASONABLE QUESTION, OR DOES IT JUST MAKE ME SOUND LIKE A NEUROTIC IDIOT? NOW THAT I SAY IT OUT LOUD, I REALISE IT SEEMS PRETTY STUPID, BUT I JUST WANTED TO...”
I can’t do that. For one thing, by shouting I’d be spraying droplets everywhere. So asking might actually be more dangerous than just walking on past.
Personally, if I were in the most vulnerable category, I’d probably find my behaviour quite annoying. I’d think: “Just leave me in peace, you relatively young nitwit, and I’ll look after myself, thanks very much.”
I’d be even more annoyed, though, by the reports in yesterday’s papers. Apparently the Government is thinking of bringing back shielding for the most vulnerable.
Many people hated shielding, especially those who lived alone. They grew lonely and anxious. They worried about not being able to get enough food and other essentials. They felt like prisoners in their own homes. A study found that depression was twice as common among older people ordered to shield.
Advice is one thing. But don’t make shielding compulsory.
Let grown adults use their common sense, assess the risks – and make up their own minds.
This week the Government has been promoting its National Career Service website. You fill in a questionnaire about your personality and interests, and it tells you what to retrain as. I decided to try it – and let my son have a go, too.
All right, so he’s only six years old. Talk of the jobs market may seem a little premature. But his career ambitions to date have tended to be somewhat unfocused (wicket-keeper, shopkeeper, ninja, emperor), so I felt a bit of guidance would do him no harm.
Weirdly – even though we gave very different answers to the questions – we were both recommended the exact same career. Actor.
“Actors,” explained the Government’s website, “use speech, movement and expression to bring characters to life in theatre, film…”
I know the Government is only trying to help. But maybe its advice could do with a little fine-tuning.