When there’s an elephant in the room it’s awkward; when there are eleven, it’s a bio-hazard. The GOP debate audience swarmed like intoxicated flies, eager for a Big One to drop. It was ten against one, but no load proved big enough to bring down the Bull. The Bull Elephant jutted and thrust and flinched but without question, he prevailed.
No mistake who the Bull in the room was, or what the “debate” was about. It wasn’t policy, or people, nor governance, equality or freedom. That’s not what they came to see. They came to see what the Bull would do.
Finally, the manifestation of GOP worship is incarnate in a candidate capable of speech, and he’s nothing like that awkwardly assembled body-part wreck that Romney was, with a mere fraction of the wealth plus all that baggage from actually governing. Here is a billionaire Bull Elephant who is defiant, resolute, rich as God and camera-ready. Here—for any Republicans capable of irony—was the actual corporate person Mitt foretold of. And he is so exciting!
All are spellbound at how actually putting money and mouth together could result in such outrageously, tyrannically, hilariously juvenile remarks— that nobody can seemingly refute! Or how that miraculous money-magnet gift also magically repels criticism and reduces opponents to meek, deferring mice. This protean herd leader commands the right to say whatever the hell he wants because he owes nobody—not donors or special interests or religious zealots—or even and especially a pair of billionaire bull elephant brothers seething in another room across the country.
A special aura attends this election season. It’s glistening with the promise of billions of dollars that will shower down on the worthy, the clever, the faithful. It also holds the prospect of spectacular failure, dismissal and disgrace.
Oh, incidentally, sometime during a commercial break a President will be elected.