A scary, disintegrating, beasts-unchained kind of a night, like a Trump rally gone south. The scapegoating and bullying are somehow childlike. This is why, so far, no political strategy has succeeded against him. And somewhere deep in the folds of England, in a darkening living room, a truck driver named James Holmes surges from his chair and puts his boot through the TV screen. He looks like a bust that will one day be toppled in a city square. And although, yes, he boasted about the size of his ding-dong in the middle of a televised debate kick in that screen! What they did was quite genuine.
Juniper. Age: 21.
What they did was quite genuine.
Naomi. Age: 30.
Donald Trump, Sex Pistol
Is it frivolous to portray a genuine and expanding menace to the republic as some kind of arty iconoclast or Lord of Misrule? He flames here and there, impossible to pin down, an ignis fatuus topped with a toasted golden ghost of a hairdo. For the early punk bands, not being able to play their instruments was a mark of virtue—a blow against the elites, the puffy-haired technocrats with their pointless minute guitar solos. Look at him up there, triumphant, Trump-umphant, roasting in adoration, but also—like a professional wrestling heel—accepting and enjoying the hostility, the spicy crackle of odium.