Excerpt: Paul Krugman, this morning, compares Trump to the horrifying 6-year-old of the "Twilight Zone" episode, "It's a Good Life." Explains Krugman: "It featured a small town terrorized by a [prepubescent Trump] who for some reason had monstrous superpowers, coupled with complete emotional immaturity. Everyone lived in constant fear, made worse by the need to pretend that everything was fine." Krugman makes this comparison in relation to Trump's domestic imponderables. Those, though, are not what fearfully pin me to this president's non-existent wall. No, that's accomplished by knowing that Trump is commander in chief — an emotionally immature buffoon with truly monstrous superpowers.
Can we live — literally — with Trump?
by P.M. Carpenter | April 29, 2017 - 6:49am
With near unanimity and astonishing simultaneity, this nation's more prominent conservative columnists have discovered how to endure what still promises to be the most menacing four years of an American presidency. Our loathsome bugaboo of a wanna-be strongman, Donald Trump, is still loathsome, they say — but a strongman he isn't. And in that, we may take some comfort; we can, perhaps, endure. Such is the new, #NeverTrump conservative consensus (almost).
This morning, David Brooks summarizes his tribe's somewhat relieved take by writing that Trump has "not gotten brighter or humbler"; he has only "gotten smaller and more conventional." His "convictions" are ephemera, his competence is "merely inadequate" (not "catastrophic"), and he has "mostly switched from being a subversive populist to being a conventional corporatist." With passing validity, Brooks concludes that "[Trump's] looks like any Republican administration that is staffed by people whose prejudices were formed in 1984 and who haven't had a new thought since." In brief, Trump is more of an antique commonplace to be yawned at than a cryptofascist to be feared.
Michael Gerson concludes much the same. "In a number of cases, Trump has not been cunning but credulous; not an authoritarian but a pushover. During his campaign, Trump looked down on the weak; now, it turns out, he is weak." (See: China, the wall, health care.)
Gerson goes on to make two other observations: one profoundly undeniable, the other, deeply perplexing. "Trump is failing," he writes, "because he has little knowledge of the world and no guiding star of moral principle." Who would — who can — argue with that? Yet Gerson then notes, seemingly out of nowhere: "The best of our leaders — think Abraham Lincoln — have been sure about the truth and uncertain about themselves. Trump is the opposite."
There is nothing deeply perplexing about noting Trump's Himalayan ego and self-confidence. To assert, however, that "the best of our leaders" — "the best" being a matter of personal political preference and varying historical judgements — have been racked by Lincolnian doubts is rather dubious, considering the self-confidence displayed by, oh, Presidents Washington, J. Adams, Jefferson, J.Q. Adams, Jackson, Tyler, Polk, Garfield, Cleveland, McKinley, T. Roosevelt, Wilson, Coolidge, Hoover, F.D. Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Reagan, Clinton, G.W. Bush, and Obama." I may have missed a few.
Finally we come to Charles Krauthammer, who chimes with Brooks: "[Trump] ran as a populist and won as a populist but, a mere 100 days in, he is governing as a traditionalist." Such is the new conservative consensus: We need not be too afraid.
The one outlier in influential(?) conservative opinion is George Will, whose opinion I'm far more in tune with. Will is amused by Trump's domestic betrayal of his base, but still very much afraid of Trump's reckless ignorance of world affairs: "Trump's retreat from positions that enchanted his supporters is a matter mostly between him and them. How he addresses the world, however, will reveal whether he has gone from candidate to commander in chief without becoming presidential."
There we have it — the real horror of Donald Trump in the White House. Institutional checks on his domestic imbecilities remain; indeed, they appear sturdier than many imagined. So here, we can somewhat relax. But Trump as the unpresidential commander on chief — an impulsive toddler with total authority over the globe's mightiest firepower — is downright terrifying.
Paul Krugman, this morning, compares Trump to the horrifying 6-year-old of the "Twilight Zone" episode, "It's a Good Life." Explains Krugman: "It featured a small town terrorized by a [prepubescent Trump] who for some reason had monstrous superpowers, coupled with complete emotional immaturity. Everyone lived in constant fear, made worse by the need to pretend that everything was fine." Krugman makes this comparison in relation to Trump's domestic imponderables. Those, though, are not what fearfully pin me to this president's non-existent wall. No, that's accomplished by knowing that Trump is commander in chief — an emotionally immature buffoon with truly monstrous superpowers.
_______
This morning, David Brooks summarizes his tribe's somewhat relieved take by writing that Trump has "not gotten brighter or humbler"; he has only "gotten smaller and more conventional." His "convictions" are ephemera, his competence is "merely inadequate" (not "catastrophic"), and he has "mostly switched from being a subversive populist to being a conventional corporatist." With passing validity, Brooks concludes that "[Trump's] looks like any Republican administration that is staffed by people whose prejudices were formed in 1984 and who haven't had a new thought since." In brief, Trump is more of an antique commonplace to be yawned at than a cryptofascist to be feared.
Michael Gerson concludes much the same. "In a number of cases, Trump has not been cunning but credulous; not an authoritarian but a pushover. During his campaign, Trump looked down on the weak; now, it turns out, he is weak." (See: China, the wall, health care.)
Gerson goes on to make two other observations: one profoundly undeniable, the other, deeply perplexing. "Trump is failing," he writes, "because he has little knowledge of the world and no guiding star of moral principle." Who would — who can — argue with that? Yet Gerson then notes, seemingly out of nowhere: "The best of our leaders — think Abraham Lincoln — have been sure about the truth and uncertain about themselves. Trump is the opposite."
There is nothing deeply perplexing about noting Trump's Himalayan ego and self-confidence. To assert, however, that "the best of our leaders" — "the best" being a matter of personal political preference and varying historical judgements — have been racked by Lincolnian doubts is rather dubious, considering the self-confidence displayed by, oh, Presidents Washington, J. Adams, Jefferson, J.Q. Adams, Jackson, Tyler, Polk, Garfield, Cleveland, McKinley, T. Roosevelt, Wilson, Coolidge, Hoover, F.D. Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Reagan, Clinton, G.W. Bush, and Obama." I may have missed a few.
Finally we come to Charles Krauthammer, who chimes with Brooks: "[Trump] ran as a populist and won as a populist but, a mere 100 days in, he is governing as a traditionalist." Such is the new conservative consensus: We need not be too afraid.
The one outlier in influential(?) conservative opinion is George Will, whose opinion I'm far more in tune with. Will is amused by Trump's domestic betrayal of his base, but still very much afraid of Trump's reckless ignorance of world affairs: "Trump's retreat from positions that enchanted his supporters is a matter mostly between him and them. How he addresses the world, however, will reveal whether he has gone from candidate to commander in chief without becoming presidential."
There we have it — the real horror of Donald Trump in the White House. Institutional checks on his domestic imbecilities remain; indeed, they appear sturdier than many imagined. So here, we can somewhat relax. But Trump as the unpresidential commander on chief — an impulsive toddler with total authority over the globe's mightiest firepower — is downright terrifying.
Paul Krugman, this morning, compares Trump to the horrifying 6-year-old of the "Twilight Zone" episode, "It's a Good Life." Explains Krugman: "It featured a small town terrorized by a [prepubescent Trump] who for some reason had monstrous superpowers, coupled with complete emotional immaturity. Everyone lived in constant fear, made worse by the need to pretend that everything was fine." Krugman makes this comparison in relation to Trump's domestic imponderables. Those, though, are not what fearfully pin me to this president's non-existent wall. No, that's accomplished by knowing that Trump is commander in chief — an emotionally immature buffoon with truly monstrous superpowers.
_______
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