Trump: the never-ending story

There are times when I only post something to this blog after spending several days over it. Not because I’m struggling to find the right words or ideas, but because with some subjects I can say something that will be as true tomorrow or the day after as it is today. That in turn will be because every day there will be a fresh reason to say what I want to say. So no rush – the post will always seem newly-minted and topical. This is certainly true with Donald Trump, about whom I’ve written many times over the past decade.

Seven years ago, I made a vow that I wouldn’t go near the country as long as Trump was its president. I didn’t. I fact I continued to stay away even after Trump was sent packing to Florida. So malign has been his influence over his country that it sometimes feels that he’s never stopped being president, at least of a goodly percentage of the population. But now, I’m beginning to wonder if it isn’t time I revisited the United States. If it’ll let me in of course

Why would I think about returning now? After all, America seems to be in the grip of a lunatic cult that defies logic and reason. Its messiah is one of the most repulsive individuals to have held high office in any democracy, let alone the United States. Surely that would be a good reason to continue to stay away.

Here’s why I’m thinking otherwise.

For as long as I’ve been old enough to think for myself, most of what I’ve thought about America has been positive. Of its people: ambition, determination, generosity, optimism, creativity, curiosity. Of its culture: music, film, theatre and art. Of its scientific and engineering expertise. Those qualities have always outweighed the less appealing facets: exceptionalism, parochialism, naivety, greed, lack of compassion for the underdog. Despite these less attractive traits, to someone of my generation, America, warts and all, has always felt like the good guy.

But now? Perhaps I look at the country too much through the lens of Twitter.

Other media provide perspective of course – I subscribe to the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Atlantic and the New Yorker – but X, as we must now call it, has become a moral cesspit that seems a perfect match for the diseased mind of Donald Trump.

The X that Elon Musk has determined I need to see is a dark and grimy place. It shows me never-ending video clips of people beating the crap out of each other, especially in the US. Violent, nasty, almost snuff movies. Lately I’ve been regaled by a series of interviews with American serial killers. Am I really interested in the opinions of some psycho who took it upon himself to wipe out half a school classroom? So why is this stuff being directed towards me?

Then there are videos of pets being rescued and wild animals doing hilariously stupid things, which suggests that, according to X’s algorithm, people who enjoy watching snuff movies also love wildlife, and just love cosying up at night with cuddly Siberian cats or lovable XL Bully Dogs.

Then there’s stuff about Gaza, lots about Trump’s legal travails, a small amount about the imminent demise of the UK’s train wreck of a government. And no tranche of posts would be complete without a video of a Russian tank being blown up, or of some unfortunate soldier in his dugout being wiped out by a drone.

Those subjects account for about 50% of the content. The remaining delights – in my version of the site – are divided between Trump’s desperate efforts to stay out of jail, amplified by right-wing media from the US and the UK. And Musk himself – X’s very own Joker, doing his Deus Ex Machina act and spreading lies about immigration in the US. Much of what he tweets serves as a portal into an extremist hell, where gremlins and goblins lurk.

“Then don’t use Twitter/X”, I hear you say. And of course you’re right. But I suppose I keep wading through the sewer for the sake of the tiny percentage of content that from my perspective is interesting and worth reading – historical stuff for example. I guess there’s also the allure of having a prime seat in the online Colosseum to watch Maximus/Jack Smith delivering Commodus/Trump his just deserts.

But at some stage I also want to look beyond the sound and fury and revisit America before my memory of the country I once loved has been completely erased by the brutal portrait that Elon and his headbangers are painting. Has that welcoming, kind, and generous country for ever been marginalised and cast aside by the likes of Trump and his serpentine followers?

Perhaps I’m too late. I’ve certainly been through something of an attitude shift since 2016. These days, when I encounter an American with a big belly sporting one of those trademark chin-beards, I find myself automatically assuming that if prompted he’ll start spewing the MAGA Bible, or more particularly the Gospel of Q. Ten years ago, I might have thought of him as a good ole boy, essentially harmless unless you step on his toes. Now I might look for murderous intent, and wonder if he was one of those folks that beat up the Capitol on January 6 2021, or cheered on those who did.

Perhaps this is another way of saying that to my eyes, and most likely those of many foreign onlookers, the antics of Trump and his cult members have brought about a disastrous degradation of America’s international reputation. Politically, culturally and socially, America is no longer the lodestar. It’s unreliable, fractious, bitterly divided and quite possibly no longer an ally to be trusted.

I would like to see if that perception is justified. I’m not sure I’ll succeed, but it would be good to have a look around anyway, Have those outward-looking American values shrivelled into a meaner, more paranoid, inward-looking version of their former selves? Have the icons of decency gone altogether, or are they waiting for Trumpian America to self-destruct?

In case any American reader thinks I’m being unfair to their country, perhaps they can take comfort in the thought that the United Kingdom, my country, has for the past few years been experiencing a similar bout of insanity from which it has yet to emerge. Some leaders of the madhouse have shuffled off the political stage, but many still remain. But that’s for another day.

I take no pleasure in seeing so many people in both countries duped into believing one big lie after another. But at least an electoral reckoning is coming. At the moment I’d put money on Rishi Sunak going down in flames in the next few months. Of the outcome for Trump I have no clue, but it’s safe to say that even if he doesn’t succeed in November 2024, even more potent pretenders to his crown will be looking to follow in his footsteps.

Some years you can’t predict at all. About others, including this one, you know only one thing: there will be blood.

I watch with pain, sympathy and intense interest.