After
Donald Trump's deranged balcony address, we're all gasping together
The
president tells us he beat coronavirus like a man: the kind who takes all the
best drugs and leaves everyone else exposed
Tue 6 Oct 2020 08.20 EDTLast
modified on Tue 6 Oct 2020 13.58 EDT
A
rare
moment of unity in the US election, as Donald Trump marked his return to the
White House by gasping along with his detractors. On Monday
night, the president puffed up the front staircase of his residence, his face
coated in several more gallons of paint than the front elevation of the
building. “Don’t let it dominate your lives,” he panted of the virus, a bad
case of which tends to dominate your death.
Yet there he was, this
hideous kink in the arc of history, giving the most dangerous balcony
performance since Michael Jackson had his baby crowdsurf
off one. The American people are all Blanket now.
As for the optics,
“deranged balcony address” is certainly a look – but not one that tends to end
well. How might this version turn out? Unfortunately, it’s not a question
Trump’s attention span equips him to answer. His reference points for the form
are the occasional three minutes of historical documentaries he’s forced to
watch while searching his stomach-folds for the TV remote. It feels like he
switches over to Fox News before discovering how a whole series of 20th-century
balcony stories ended.
Still: don’t call him
Wussolini. He beat this illness – which he still very much has – like a man.
One of the really manly ones, who takes all the best drugs and leaves everyone
else exposed and misled and unprotected. Even so, early reactions to the
gasping spectacle suggest the move could only have backfired more if Trump had
ascended the front steps via a hastily installed stairlift carrying a pack of adult
diapers.
Once he’d wheezed through
the unpleasantries, all that remained was to remove his mask and set about infecting
any remaining staff yet to be exposed to his droplets. Think of Trump as the
83rd Airborne, parachuting his deadly particles deep into butlers’ respiratory
systems. He won’t give you a Purple Heart, but he might give you purple lungs.
Alas, it’s disappointing
to find potential victims failing to feel grateful for the opportunity. One
current secret service agent assigned to the first family’s detail expressed
frustration, telling CNN: “We’re not disposable.” Two
housekeeping staff have already tested positive for the virus. As the events of
the past week show, the president’s respect for human life is so low that he is
willing to send an entire army of servants into 14-day isolation or worse in
order to keep up a steady stream of trans-fats being fed to him. Dying in the
line of duty used to mean taking a bullet for the president; it could now
involve taking him a Diet Coke. Thank you for your drinks service.
As for how Trump spent
the rest of his evening, I assume it was straight on to the monstrous leaders’
WhatsApp to josh with the other bros about how they kill their underlings.
RocketmanKim loves a firing squad, Vlad69’s a huge chemicals guy, but Trump
just clears his throat while being brought his fourth burger of the day. Boom!
“I cough on them like a bitch! When
you’re famous you can do that.”
Face it, he’s absolutely
bossing the likes of Kim and Xi and MBS in the fantasy evildoer leagues. It’s
not that the other guys don’t have lethal motorcades and abysmal interiors
taste and balcony addresses and death cults and doctors who mislead the world.
But doing them in a democracy – well, that makes it triple points.
Speaking of physicians
who really need to heal themselves, what a striking misinformation campaign
it’s been from presidential medic Sean Conley, who has been continually
obfuscating about Trump’s condition since calling his symptoms “mild”, only for
even the White House to contradict him. For me, that’s the new low. Of course,
we now expect the president of the United States to lie as default – to tell us
black is white, or up is down, or to claim he never said something he’s on
camera saying. But for a professional and senior doctor to mislead apparently
without remorse shows how necrotic the body politic has become, from the very
top down. The lying, the reality-denying is not a one-off case – it’s the other
epidemic.
In fact, it’s kind of
amazing that conspiracy theorists have lined up so supportively behind Trump,
when he’s really the most convincing proof yet of all their worst fears. The
Man really is lying to them, he really is wicked, and he really does want to
kill them. The damning evidence is right there in front of everyone. Only,
instead of begging Oliver Stone to make a film about it, they want to give Trump
a second term.
Like me, you probably
hate to see a conspiracist wimp out of their beliefs just when it’s coming up
roses for them. It’s as if the moon landing hoaxers were signing over their
life savings to Nasa, or the flat Earthers booking a round-the-world ticket. So
come on, guys – back yourselves! After all, if not now, then when?
• Marina Hyde is a
Guardian columnist
