Few businessmen are capable of being in politics, they don't understand the democratic process, they have neither the tolerance or the depth it takes. Democracy isn't a business.
- Malcolm Forbes
The endless blather – wrapped in political sniping and loophole creation – about energy is a massive misdirection in the NeoPol world of today. Simple enough to point and YouTube and Twitter as the vehicles which carried the new attitudes about politics to the masses, it’s all for naught anyway. Energy, it seems, is not an issue on the table anyway.
A quick digression to pop a nail in the lid of the discussion: Republicans will blithely point at Global Warming, greenhouse gases, and the entire energy package in general and scream “lies!” without taking a breath to explain why they’d rather not stick their own face in front of an exhaust pipe. Democrats, with an equally blithe wave of the hand, state this is the wrong view, we’re destroying the planet, wind and solar forever!, then give BP a little kiss on the cheek and send them happily a-drilling back into the Gulf of Mexico for some tank-filling, get to the office and the grocery store and the soccer field, we gotta have the gas no matter what production. Whores, one and all, wearing skimpy red and blue outfits, and bearing dire warnings: no gas, no vacation at Disneyland, fuckers; YOU fix it.
That energy discussion is elliptical, irrelevant, and baseless: energy companies run the place, the fox tells the henhouse what to do, and no matter who you voted for recently you still got a floozy on their knees with a frequent mouthful of some oil or other executive. There is no argument, only the question of who will swallow and who will spit. Winners, I assume, swallow.
Energy now has a new source, outlet, and positive/negative effect: media. The users of that energy are discovering you needn’t be terribly bright, adroit, adept, well spoken, or liked. Cite Glenn Beck: hard to remember someone as vile, less useful, yet so popular. That, people, is energy today.
Sigh. Where am I going with this? Directly into the newly-minted, gilt and shiny circus clown insanity of one Donald Trump, the Next President of The United States.
Don’t laugh. This isn’t about him. It’s about energy, and you’d better believe he knows how to manage it, evidenced by this week’s remarkable trip down The Birther Beltway.
I like John Avlon’s (The Daily Beast) description of Trump’s masturbatory lunacy. Simple, clean, plain vanilla: he wrote “This is the political equivalent of lighting a house on fire, calling 911 and then expecting a medal.” Take an issue that does not exist, ride the wave of “Did too!” Did not!” arguments ineloquently yet endlessly vomited by Orly Taitz, make mention of it using no more skill than a five year old reciting the alphabet (not necessarily in order), and when BamBam stops doling out oral sex on demand to his corporate Johns long enough to produce a goddamn piece of paper denoting his personal provenance and pedigree, gush and spew “I'm very proud of myself, because I've accomplished something that no one else has been able to accomplish.”
This is like finding out what color underwear George Bush wore to his inauguration: no one has been able to accomplish it, but no one should really give a shit anymore, either. The only difference is: trump can ride this horse like nobody can, full gallop, straight into your living room, onto your flatscreen, into ur internetz, and POW: a country will wake up one November day in awe and terror, staring at that cheap fucking hairpiece and muttering "the fuck did I do?"
All snarkiness aside (or not), this is the new face of political force: the NeoPol way to get yourself in the running. You need at least some pedigree, which despite what many think, Trump has. You need money: he’s got some of that left, certainly. You need viz and buzz, too – Flouncing through her unapologetically putrid reality show could get Snooki into position as Vice President, really, so Trump’s “Apprentice” (I will have to admit I’ve only seen a single episode, with Gene Simmons on it. A garish parade of ego and imbecility) is a natch.
Trump and Snooki, 2012. Gawd.
Remember the platforms we used to watch for? Conservatives talked reduced spending and family values and church and national strength and freedom, while Liberals talked spending and family values and the common good and freedom?
Enter the new world of politics, where the bullshit spewed by both sides (if there are sides) is supplanted by glitz and flash of a paparazzi-lined red carpet and a plug for the new show. No longer do we rely on Hannity and O’Reilly to dole out lurid palaver about the greatness of conservativism, or a manic Olbermann sending his watchers scurrying for a thesaurus and using impeccable manners (loudly) to dash his issues to confounded bits while denoting Liberal supremacy.
Now, the candidates will tend to that chore themselves. No longer is there a need for news anchors to play this role solo: now they can play along, and it will be a lucrative ride, I suspect. There is no discussion needed about one’s expertise with current events. There is no history of public service to praise/lament. Military service is a worthless token. Nobody will stand on the issues today which politicians in their corner voted down and vetoed in the past. The only tools you need are money, mouth, and megalomania; the three M’s of modern political success which make up the new energy. What the hell; a mouth like a grade school dropout from Queens and a recorded history as a cast-iron cheese dick idiot haven’t slowed Trump a bit. The new energy doesn’t bow to such things.
BamBam’s comments on the release of his cert, accompanied by a call not to heed “sideshows and carnival barkers”, seems less a snippy call to return to politics as usual than it does a whiny plaint for better television.
Trump knows he will be the next President of The United States. He knows it like he knows Ivanka’s ongoing cosmetic surgery costs, like he knows Gene Simmons has more ego but less talent (which isn’t saying much), and like he knows how to schmooze and flooze his way along the byways of the American Dream like a typically power-hungry politician, like they all are, of course, but one better: he knows doesn’t need anything but bright lights and a big mouth to succeed. In the world of reality television, the new energy is in endless supply, as are a deep, rich pool of vapid, brightly-lit clowns to take power.
So, hail to the chief, everyone. Tonight, right after American Idol and your local news program.