I swore I wouldn’t do it, stay tuned for the last night of the RNC, but I tried passing the baton to trusted others and no one would take it. Suffer along here.
Tonight our White House grounds was the site for a Trump rally in the form of his formal closing RNC speech. This feels creepy and crimey: raw politics going on in Our House, out on the South Lawn. Has the Hatch Act been suspended; did he use another Executive Order to do it?
Trump went full-frontal Apprentice for this rally. All show. Same circus. There were political banners, a big crowd and Trump’s Walk to the podium, was it Fame or Shame. There’s Melania, dressed in bright money-green: of course she wouldn't wear red, white or blue to a political rally. She likes to be seen.
The high point is the quiet when it was over. The nadir: “We’re here, they’re not,” he brayed at one moment, pointing to the White House behind him. If the crowd gasped, the mics didn't pick it up. We at home sure did.
Trump thinks the reminder that he trampled on law and tradition to make this speech is a good thing and for his base, perhaps it is. Independent voters may balk and run at the fear of his blatant and arrogant misuse of the White House. He devolves more and more into a Kim Jong-Un clone with every indiscretion.
The crowd of about 2,000 people was packed in together in chairs and bleachers without distancing or masks. Against all recommendations of the Administration’s own experts, they did the worst thing you can do during a pandemic: they shouted and cheered. if they had virus on their hands, the high-fiving spread it.
Using his devoted mob for backdrop and energy, it’s clear that Trump ignores the fact that his Tulsa rally killed Herman Cain. Trump doesn't care about the masses shifting in lawn chairs before him; just look how they chant and cheer and applaud. Pure adoration. Chairman Kim nods approval.
The rally crowd was better-dressed than most, but equally sweaty and excited, providing perfect conditions for a spread of COVID-19. It helped they came with high enthusiasm: Trump was lacking his usual get-up-and-go bluster. He looked exhausted and lifeless: he pretty much TelePromptered it in. When he referred to Biden as Sleepy, it came across as another self-own.
Trump droned on for over an hour: they didn’t show the audience toward the end, but I sensed some checking of watches. But for the Secret Service and armed soldiers on the roof, some would have sneaked away to beat the traffic.
In the background you could occasionally hear crowd noise not associated with the event. We’re told that hundred of BLM protestors chanted and marched adjacent to the lawn, but they weren’t on camera during the White House coverage. Afterwards, cable coverage showed people in the nearby streets. Protests were peaceful and more subdued later in the evening.
It’s notable that the number of barriers between White House grounds and public space has increased since early June: Bunker Baby seems intent on putting more barricades between himself and us, the folks who own the White House.
He’s like a tenant who plans to stop paying rent and is erecting a blockade to prevent us from evicting him.
Perhaps I’ve been watching too much Dr. Fauci, but this flagrant violation by the GOP crowd of all Rules of a Pandemic made me queasy. I swear I saw greenish viruses flying around their heads and faces. I leaned back away from the TV screen. I wonder about the families these folks go home to: are there medically vulnerable folks who will be infected by what the Trump cult brings home on their clothes or breath?
A modest wedding gathering at a Maine venue a few weeks back led to over 50 new confirmed COVID-19 cases. Andrew Yang: what’s the math on this one?
Ivanka closed the loop on her relationship with Daddy tonight, earning her the sibling top spot for when he doles out power and money. Like a perfectly-coiffed Barbie in a little black off the shoulder dress, she spoke in dulcet tones using her best Daisy Buchanan voice. Same old fake charm lines about Daddy’s Twitter use and his all-around wonderfulness; isn’t she clever!
Then, like a two-headed hydra, the Ivampa face appeared and she took direct aim at Joe Biden. Princess spat venomous words about wicked dangerous Joe, and tried to be fierce, but the overall effect was just funny.
Like Daddy, she is a self-owner; when she called Biden an empty vessel, it was like watching her look into the mirror and self-assess.
Daddy told on himself too. He says Joe Biden is a Trojan Horse, carrying Bernie Sanders and his pack of left wing zealots and a lawless, dangerous future inside. In fact, it brings to mind that Trump is the ultimate Trojan Horse: he transported Putin and his pack of poisonous oligarchs into the Oval Office and invited them to insinuate themselves into our elections and democracy.
But the real tell came at the end. At Trump’s direction the dramatic ending flourish of the evening was an operatic performance. Opera singing comes from deep within, and the singer expels vast amount of air and anything inside, like virus. And the singer takes in enormous breaths, hoovering up all the oxygen his lungs will hold and the contents of the air. Including virus.
It is the worst and most senseless choice of entertainment in the time of a pandemic.
The opera singer ended the festivities with Ave Maria, an odd choice for a rally celebration. The last time I heard it was at a funeral.
How’s that message, Mr. Burnett?
Or to put it more simply, Donald, you’re fired.
