Donald Trump has always been an arrogant bug that’s unaware of the approaching windshield. Time after time he’s been lifted out of danger by a friendly gust of wind, tossing him out of harm’s way just in time to avoid impact. Whoosh!
Trump’s financial disasters and subsequent bailouts are well documented. In 1978, his father, Fred Trump, persuaded Chase Manhattan Bank to give his son a $35 million line of credit. Donald Trump’s personal finances cratered that same year. Numerous rental properties were money losers. Partnership investments yielded red ink, and the debt service on the Chase Manhattan loan dragged on his balance sheet like an albatross. His father bailed him out in late 1980. Whoosh!
Trump broke his losing streak with his successful Trump Tower project – his financial high point. Afterward, Trump managed his finances like bumper cars on marbles. Real estate developments floundered. His ownership of a professional football team was an epic failure. He wandered far beyond his depth in attempting to develop and manage Atlantic City casinos. Mother Jones reported Trump avoided personal bankruptcy “partly by browbeating his bankers and partly by pleading for tens of millions of dollars in loans from his father and his siblings.” Whoosh!
Donald Trump has always relied on the kindness of strangeness, whether his father’s wealth, his family’s largesse, the carelessness of large banks, or the millions he conned from a legion of marks that donate to his political campaign and super-PAC. Whoosh!
The Windshield
The friendly gusts went silent in Manhattan last week. There was no gullible jury, or even a die-hard loyalist hanging up a jury, to puff him to safety. There was no dancing away from impact this time. He could not avoid the fast-approaching windshield — or windshields.
There were 34 of them. Over and over an oncoming windshield named “Guilty” smashed into him. The Jury foreman solemnly intoned: “Guilty.” “Guilty.” “Guilty.” He might as well have been saying: “Splat.” “Splat.” “Splat.”
Trump lashed out like an emerging cicada. “These are bad people,” he buzzed during a press event at Trump Tower, “These are in many cases, I believe, sick people.” “As far as the trial itself,” he added, “it was very unfair.” Bzzzz.
Trump supporters got the message and swarmed to his defense like flies over a landfill. Tough guy wannabes called for violence. Elected officials clutched their pearls. Trump knew, as P. T. Barnum did, that “every crowd has a silver lining.” “I think we've set a record beyond all records for fundraising," he told Fox News. (Whoosh)
Trump has long been considered a cult leader, but that is not correct. Cults tend to be insular. Trump does not isolate his followers. He sends them to do battle on his behalf.
Trump is not a cult leader; he is a swarm leader. He does not “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee,” to quote Muhammad Ali. It’s more like “float like a butterfly and sing like a bee.” That’s also what his followers do. Bzzzz.
The Advent of the Swarm
The swarm gathered like a cicada cloud. A swarm of cicadas can sound like a thunder-clap as performed by a kazoo band. Trump’s supporters sound that way.
Bzzzz … Mike Johnson … bzzzz … “shameful day in American history” … bzzzz … Tim Scott … bzzzz … “Absolute injustice” … bzzzz … Lindsey Graham … bzzzz … “Two can play this game” … bzzzz … Marco Rubio … bzzzz … “Don’t just get angry about this travesty, get even” … bzzzz … John Thune … bzzzz … “politically motivated” … bzzzz … John Cornyn … bzzzz … “a disgrace” … bzzzz … Rick Scott … bzzzz … “lawless election interference” … bzzzz … Mike Lee … bzzzz … “un-American” … bzzzz … Matt Gaetz … bzzzz … "a corrupt trial, a corrupt judge, and a corrupt DA" … bzzzz … Jim Jordan … bzzzz … “unprecedented political prosecution” … bzzzz … J.D. Vance … bzzzz … “disgrace to the judicial system” … bzzzz … Steve Scalise … bzzzz … “defeat for Americans” … bzzzz … Elise Stefanik … bzzzz … “sham trial” … bzzzz … Ted Cruz … bzzzz … absolute travesty of justice” … bzzzz … Kari Lake … bzzzz … “outright mockery of the rule of law” …bzzzz … bzzzz … bzzzzz …
Lo, the people covered their ears.
Uncle Sam at The Gas Station
Uncle Sam pulled into a gas station in a small mountain town. It was a throw-back, where an attendant filled the tank for you and washed the windshield. Uncle Sam had stopped there before.
“Long road trip, Uncle Sam?” asked the attendant. “Good to see you, Larry,” replied Uncle Sam. “Yes, put on a few more miles.” He checked his look in the visor mirror. “Could you take care of the windshield?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Larry, smiling. “You know I always do.” He reached for a squeegee and looked over the windshield. “I’ve never seen it this bad before,” he said. “Lots of insects. They’re all over the place, like you ran into a big swarm. Was that a problem?”
“No,” replied Uncle Sam. “No problem. Go ahead and wipe ‘em off,” he said, adjusting his hat. “They’re just bugs.”