Oh, how I tire of this.
Remember when wearing a MAGA hat meant you were certain to lose an election to Hillary Clinton? Remember the days before a red baseball cap became a symbol of all evil in the universe?
I’ve been typing words on the Internet to pay the bills for, I dunno, 12-13 years now. I spent eight of those years disapproving of a cult of personality centered in the Oval Office, and I’ve spent the past few years disapproving of the subsequent cult of personality centered in the Oval Office. I don’t like tribal groupthink, and I’m as immune to Trump’s charisma as I was to Obama’s, so in 2019 that means I have even fewer friends and admirers than usual.
But as we head into week 2 of the MAGA Kid Saga, I’m finding common cause with my Trumpkin brothers and sisters. Whatever our differences, I’ve always agreed with them that the media is astonishingly biased and corrupt. The abject shamelessness of our moral, ethical, and intellectual betters, the self-appointed gatekeepers of the truth, has never been more apparent than it’s been over the past week.
That’s Jim Treacher, of course, who’s a good writer and a funny guy. I corresponded with Jim a few times back in his independent blogger days, before he signed on with PJM. I don’t read him much anymore, and it pains me to have to call him out on his fervent dislike of Trump; I’d love to be able to say that this particular piece confirms that he’s rethinking his reflexive opposition to Trump and coming around, if slowly, to a more informed and intelligent understanding of what the Trump counterrevolution was really all about.
Unfortunately, I can’t. The obstacle disproving any wished-for removal of Jim’s NeverTrump blinders is in those “cult of personality” and “tribal groupthink” bits. Jim may believe he establishes his above-the-fray, impartial, reasonable-guy bona fides with them; he may sincerely believe they’re true and accurate descriptors of the Trump phenomenon and those who brought it about. But they simply aren’t so.
It may be that there are some folks out there who blindly worship Donald Trump; who will support him no matter what he might do or say; who hold him in a reverent awe akin to that of the most perfervid Elvis fans for their idol. But if there are, I’ve never yet run across one. What Jim fails to realize is that Trump was never any kind of idol or an object of blind worship for most of us who supported him from the beginning, and still do. We didn’t expect to agree with everything he tried to do. We knew he wasn’t either a perfect man, a perfect political leader, or a perfect president, and never would be.
What Trump actually was and is for most of us is a tool—more precisely, a weapon, to be used against our Deep State enemies in a last-ditch attempt to right the nation’s course via electoral means. Admittedly all tools, all weapons, have flaws and weaknesses. They can break unexpectedly on you; they can be incorrectly applied; they can be ideal for use in one particular circumstance or situation but useless in another, perhaps even damaging. So it is with Trump.
But after decades of being hoodwinked again and again by the Decepticons of Conservative Inc, he was quite clearly the only tool to hand for the near-insuperable job of reclaiming what’s left of our country from authoritarian/collectivist toils by peaceful means. Ted Cruz was never going to be able to accomplish a fraction of what Trump has; none of the other 16 Dwarves were even going to take an honest stab at it, much less actually do it. They were all going to drone right on about their commitment to fiscal responsibility, smaller government, prosperity, and strength and then quietly get on with what for them is Job One: yielding graciously to the Left.
The other thing Jim and the other NeverTrumpTards miss is that Trump’s rough-hewn, brash, confrontational personality—his eagerness to confront his (and our) shadow-government foes in open, down and dirty combat; his total insouciance regarding those foes’ opinions of him; his twisty, slippery rhetorical style; his unabashed and unapologetic commitment to winning if at all possible—are considered by them to be grave flaws: unserious, indecorous, and embarrassing. They long for a return to a bygone era of fastidious Come-Let’s-All-Reason-Together politics. They’re discomfited by the kind of bloody, bare-knuckle brawling Trump so enjoys and excels at.
Treacher and the rest can’t seem to grasp that those traits—rude crude, and socially unacceptable though they may be—are NOT flaws. Quite the opposite: they’re Trump’s greatest strength: absolute prerequisites for having any hope at all of achieving what we elected him to achieve. We wanted and needed a fighter, someone who fully realized that this is a war we’re in here—a particularly dirty one, against a sinister and deceptive enemy. We wanted and needed someone who wasn’t a polished, effete professional politician. A streetfight with a tooth-and-claw thug demands not a pugilist but another thug, an ear-biter and eye-gouger, somebody who gets what kind of desperate, no-holds-barred struggle we’re mired in and is willing to use the enemy’s own extreme tactics to go on the offensive, instead of remaining in the same old defensive crouch that got us where we are.
There ain’t no “cult of personality” to be found anywhere in the vicinity; this kind of struggle is too rough, too raw, too damned real to allow for such fripperies. We’re down to the nut-cuttin’ here, as the saying goes: there’s winning, and there’s losing, and that is absolutely ALL. Those who would let pious worries over “winning the wrong way” should get the hell out of the way and let the brawlers get on with it. In the end, “losing honorably” is still losing, and Trump supporters are fed up with that crap. If it takes a loud, coarse, obnoxious sort like him to put us back into the “win” column, well…hey, sorry and all, but personally I’m a-okay with it.
So go ahead and buy yourself that MAGA hat, Jim—there’s no shame in it. Or don’t, you can suit yourself. You’ve been good enough so far to express your distaste for Trump carefully, without shrieking or profane insults that I know of. But don’t kid yourself that there’s some other alternative remaining that will spare your dignity and halt the Progressivist onslaught too, or even slow it. There isn’t, like it or not; Trump and his supporters are the only game going now. I can assure you, though, that no amount of forelock-tugging disclaimers and “I can’t stand him either!” virtue-signaling, however heartfelt, will ever buy you a damned thing from Lefty. Not respect, not restraint, not accomodation, not cooperation. Not ever. Call it McCain’s Unlearned Lesson, maybe.
You should be able to see easily enough what the Left has in store for you after Covington, how very deeply they hate and despise not only the Covington Kids, Trump, and his supporters, but you too—you and every last one of us who dares to oppose or disagree with them. You shouldn’t kid yourself about that, either. We, however, will be happy to welcome you over to the Dark Side with us. You won’t have to recite any catechism or swear any oaths. You won’t have to agree with us every single time, or even keep silent about it when you do. No dress code, no minimum purchase, no credit check, no ID, no bag limit. If that still sounds like a “cult of personality” to you, I guess maybe we’re doing it wrong or something.