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Much as “Who won?” seems to be the media focal point, my question is: Did anybody win? Did the whole country lose?
If nothing else, former U.S. President Donald Trump is forcing mainstream America out of its jail cell of clichés and political correctness—even though his apparent “vision” for America is primarily a dark comedy of lies.
Yeah, I watched the debate. Was the Trump character played by Rodney Dangerfield? Maybe Don Rickles? He could have been. The problem, however, is that there’s nothing funny about racism, which seemed to be the primary core of Trump’s blather.
Did Vice President Kamala Harris “win” the debate? Uh... this wasn’t a ping-pong game, much as “Who won?” seems to be the media focal point. My question is: Did anybody win? Did the whole country lose?
In her “victory,” what deeper truth did Harris advance?
One thing I must concede is that, in listening for 90 minutes to Trump’s arrogant irreverence toward the country’s centrist rituals and propriety, I must acknowledge at least this much: Our would-be dictator-in-chief is trying to push the country beyond the military-industrial status quo of the moment. His irreverence is so blatant he is driving neocon Republicans crazy, as exemplified by former veep Dick Cheney’s recent announcement that he plans to vote for Harris, declaring that Trump can “never be trusted with power again.”
Maybe, as the media notes, this was a big boost for Harris, but I find myself unable to separate Cheney from his legacy of hideous militarism: the Iraq war in particular, the hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians killed, the “weapons of mass destruction” lies, Gitmo and Abu Ghraib and the torture of prisoners. Suddenly, in the media, those are now simply historical abstractions, hardly worth mentioning in detail. The American past is sealed shut and mythologized as the good old days.
What matters is a unified America, right? As Time Magazine reported: “Harris was asked about the Cheneys’ endorsement while on the campaign trail, visiting a spice shop in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She said she was ‘honored’ to have their endorsement, and that it represented the opportunity to ‘turn the page’ on partisan divisiveness.’”
She added that Americans are “exhausted about the division”—seeming to imply that the country was once solid and unified, fully in agreement on the nature of American values and such matters as who are enemies are. This seems to be one of the media talking points of the moment, which is ironic almost beyond belief. A nation born in a state of legalized slavery has never been a unified nation. What unity that does currently exist isn’t the result of Americans simply deciding to get along—or all agreeing on a specific, external enemy—but rather the result of decades and decades and decades of intense struggle, a la the civil rights movement, the women’s rights movement, the workers’ movements, etc., etc., and the ongoing creation of the country as it exists today.
Fascinatingly, in the wake of Cheney’s endorsement of Harris, Trump wrote on Truth Social: “He’s the King of Endless, Nonsensical Wars, wasting Lives and Trillions of Dollars, just like Comrade Kamala Harris. I am the Peace President, and only I will stop World War III!”
I note this not because I believe anything whatsoever that Trump says, but only to writhe in the irony that the main guy talking about peace (i.e., “peace”) on the national stage is a darkly comedic liar and narcissist whose primary talking point is racism.
During the debate, most of what Trump blathered was screw-loose nonsense, mixed, of course, with his special brand of racism, that is to say: the invasion of illegal aliens. This was the issue Trump rambled on about regardless of what he was asked to address, be it the economy, abortion, the January 6 riot, or whatever. To wit:
“Millions of people are pouring into the country—from prisons, jails, mental institutions, insane asylums. These are people she and Biden let into our country.”
“She’s a Marxist!... Twenty-one million people are pouring in. Many of these people are criminals.”
In Springfield, Ohio, Haitian immigrants are “eating dogs and cats—the pets of people that live there.”
Regarding Venezuela and other countries: “They’ve taken their criminals off the streets and given them to her (Harris). Crime is down all over the world—except here.”
Enough, enough! Trump’s audacious charisma apparently has given him some sort of media immunity. His lies—racist and otherwise—are simply too numerous to be questioned. But as I listen to him, screaming to myself, I also sense the nature of his appeal. He’s such a brat—so shameless in his attack on conventional wisdom, so blatant in his contempt for mainstream norms and certainties—that he has defied Cheney and the neocons and created his MAGA base: followers who have had it up to here with the rules of centrist dominance and political correctness.
The media consensus seems to be that Harris won the ping-pong game—I mean, the debate—because she spoke with clarity, factual accuracy, and sufficient contempt to continually put Trump in his place.
And yes, I get this, she won the ping-pong game. But in her “victory,” what deeper truth did Harris advance? What not-yet-existing country did she envision and present to the American people... and the world? I heard the clichés, especially the military clichés, but I didn’t see the vision.
If you are on your toes, you note what we are witnessing is not about Trump at all. It is about us. What forces us, the raw mass of humanity born into the worst of all times, to give this vile, florid, and stupid monster a seat at the head of the table?
Pundits, a day later, ruminate about who won the September 10th "presidential debate," but that is the wrong question. The most important revelation from Tuesday night's clusterfuck of bad theater ought to be this: the patient won't survive. The bedridden train-wreck sprawled across the gurney in the hospice unit is the United States of America—and the debate wasn't destined to be revelatory. We already knew that the corpse, writhing and contorting in agony, will need life-support first and a skilled embalmer soon enough. The debate proved for the billionth time that the greatest country on earth has less hope than a popsicle on the surface of the sun.
The debate wasn't about Kamala Harris—she is the default mode, the automatic pilot, a celebration of generic items, a slinky on a long stair case, a golf course watering system in a terminal draught, a row of telephone poles on an endless train ride. Forget about her. She does not exist. AI created her.
This debate was about Donald Trump. If an alien spacecraft lands on your street and parks next to a Honda Fit, the make of the car becomes irrelevant. If you are waking in the morning with a blister on your little toe and notice a tumor growing out of your side as big as the bathroom sink, you no longer attend to the foot discomfort.
Trump is our measuring stick, our gauge of disease, our face of national distress. If Trump had a debate with Jesus himself you wouldn't see it as the bantering back and forth between good and evil—you'd look at Trump and ask, "What the fuck is that?" In any context, Trump does not belong. He is a walking double take. You look at Trump as if your arm falls off and blood streams from your empty shoulder. He is bad shit that should not be there—but there he is.
If Trump had a debate with Jesus himself you wouldn't see it as the bantering back and forth between good and evil—you'd look at Trump and ask, "What the fuck is that?"
For Trump is not the typical American occupant of our national throne—a guy who merely dispenses weapons to right-wing dictators in the name of freedom and the memory of the founding fathers. No, Trump's vileness resembles, but supersedes a bad mushroom trip. A close up screenshot of Trump's face makes you long for a hang gliding mishap and a seat in the waiting room adjacent to the furnaces of hell.
But, if you are on your toes, you note that it is not Trump at all. It is about us. What forces us, the raw mass of humanity born into the worst of all times, to give this vile, florid, and stupid monster a seat at the head of the table?
What terrible rot eats us alive and, in the process causes us to see Trump as an answer to life's most difficult question? In the final, and darkest hour in all human history, what must we do to redeem ourselves? Trump!
And what did Trump tell us in this thigh-smacking comedy called the "Sixth Extinction Slapstick Special"?
For starters Trump told us that all the murderers, rapists, drug dealers, and gangsters dispersed across the entirety of creation have been systematically funneled to the U.S. southern border. All the jails and mental institutions from the stellar nurseries of the Orion Nebula to the Barbary coast have been drained of their residents. The universe, thus, suddenly has no crime, save for "migrant crime" in the land of stars and stripes.
We have all the crime from everywhere and everywhere has no crime at all.
Can you imagine that maybe a couple billion years hence, a team of alien explorers lands on the burnt remnants of our planet and discovers the video of Tuesday's debate?
Trump also told us that these alien thugs have been eating our dogs and cats. For a man who almost chose canine executioner, Kristi Noem, to be his vice president, and who fathered two of the world's most cruel trophy hunters, this sudden passion for animal welfare caught many of us off guard.
He argued back and forth with Kamala Harris about which one fracked the hardest. Picture two arsonists bickering over which one owns the largest gas can, and you get the idea.
He informed us that Harris is a radical Marxist, coming for your guns, Hummers, and bacon.
He let us know that the "Democrat Party" executes babies after birth and that every legal scholar from D.C. to the Big Bang had been clamoring to send abortion back to the states. 100% of our legal minds from Clarence Thomas to Perry Mason had, according to Trump, opposed Rowe v Wade since the universe began as expanding hot plasma. Not a single legal scholar had even one kind word for Rowe, and everyone knows it.
He also said stuff like this:
We did a phenomenal job with the pandemic. We handed them over a country where the economy and where the stock market was higher than it was before the pandemic came in. Nobody's ever seen anything like it. We made ventilators for the entire world. We got gowns. We got masks. We did things that nobody thought possible. And people give me credit for rebuilding the military. They give me credit for a lot of things. But not enough credit for the great job we did with the pandemic. But the only jobs they got were bounce-back jobs. These were jobs, bounce back. And it bounced back and it went to their benefit. But I was the one that created them. They know it and so does everybody else.
And, if you crave more, here you go:
And look at what's happening to the towns all over the United States. And a lot of towns don't want to talk -- not going to be Aurora or Springfield. A lot of towns don't want to talk about it because they're so embarrassed by it. In Springfield, they're eating the dogs. The people that came in. They're eating the cats. They're eating -- they're eating the pets of the people that live there. And this is what's happening in our country. And it's a shame. As far as rallies are concerned, as far -- the reason they go is they like what I say. They want to bring our country back. They want to make America great again. It's a very simple phrase: Make America Great Again. She's destroying this country. And if she becomes president, this country doesn't have a chance of success. Not only success. We'll end up being Venezuela on steroids.
Can you imagine that maybe a couple billion years hence, a team of alien explorers lands on the burnt remnants of our planet and discovers the video of Tuesday's debate? What will our alien visitors say to one another? Perhaps they'll say, "Those dumb fucks where watching this and chewing on popcorn while their planet roasted."
Perhaps the cruelest aliens will talk shit about our long imploded civilization: “Thank the god, Aghjestymunbo, that these crazy motherfuckers killed themselves before they learned how easy intergalactic technology is!”
I am not certain that billions of years from now our aliens will know what popcorn is. I also have no idea if intergalactic wanderers will have the requisite sense of humor to appreciate Donald Trump. If they do, all will not be lost.
What's notably missing from both candidates' messages is a truly progressive vision that acknowledges the failures of past policies and proposes fundamental changes to address systemic issues.
The stage was set for a clash of titans at the National Constitution Center in Philadelphia on Tuesday night. In what could be the only face-off of the 2024 U.S. presidential race, Vice President Kamala Harris and former President Donald Trump squared off in a debate that was as much about America's future as it was about its past. For nearly two hours, the candidates traded barbs, outlined policies, and made their case to the American people in a high-stakes political showdown.
On the surface, Harris and Trump presented dramatically different visions for the country's path forward. Yet, as the dust settled and analysts began to parse through the debate's key moments, a surprising commonality emerged. Both candidates, despite their contrasting styles and policy positions, revealed a shared reliance on nostalgia and a yearning for idealized versions of the past. This backward-looking approach, masked by rhetoric of change and progress, could have profound implications for the upcoming election and the future trajectory of American politics.
Donald Trump's appeal to voters was, characteristically, rooted in an explicit call to return to what he portrayed as the golden era of his first term. Throughout the debate, Trump painted a picture of pre-Covid-19 America under his leadership as a time of unparalleled economic strength, global peace, and national greatness.
"We had no problems when Trump was president," he declared, attributing the quote to the autocratic leader of Hungary Viktor Orbán. This statement epitomizes Trump's campaign strategy: presenting his potential second term as a restoration of a supposedly idyllic recent past.
His promise to return to the recent past offers no solutions for issues like climate change, healthcare access, or racial injustice that have only become more pressing.
Trump's vision, however, is largely disconnected from the realities of his presidency. His claims of economic prosperity ignore the growing income inequality and the impact of his trade wars on American farmers and manufacturers. His assertion of global peace overlooks escalating tensions with Iran, North Korea, and China during his tenure.
The former president's rhetoric doesn't promise a better future so much as it pledges a triumphant return to a mythologized past. This approach resonates with a segment of the electorate that is fueled by fear, offering them a comforting, if illusory, promise of turning back the clock.
Trump's nostalgia is more overt, promising a return to a time just before the Covid-19 pandemic upended American life. It's a powerful message for those who feel that recent years have brought unwelcome changes to their communities and way of life. However, this vision ignores the ways in which long-standing economic and social policies have contributed to current inequalities and challenges. His promise to return to the recent past offers no solutions for issues like climate change, healthcare access, or racial injustice that have only become more pressing.
Vice President Kamala Harris, in contrast, explicitly framed her candidacy as forward-looking. She repeatedly emphasized the need to "turn the page" and "move forward," positioning herself as a representative of a "new generation of leadership."
Harris' debate performance was widely regarded as stronger than Trump's. She appeared more composed, better prepared, and more focused on substantive policy discussions. Her rhetoric emphasized unity, hope, and the possibility of progress, echoing themes that have been successful for Democratic candidates in recent elections.
While acknowledging pressing issues like climate change and social inequality, Harris stops short of proposing the kind of structural changes that many progressives argue are necessary.
However, a closer examination of Harris' policy proposals and overall message reveals a vision that is less about charting a new course than it is about returning to a centrist, pre-Trump status quo. Her economic policies, for instance, rely heavily on market-based solutions and tax incentives reminiscent of the Clinton era. Her emphasis on "unity" and bipartisanship harks back to the Obama administration's early optimism about bridging partisan divides.
In essence, Harris is offering a return to a romanticized version of recent Democratic governance—a time before the disruptions of the Trump era, when political norms were more stable and progress seemed more achievable through incremental change within existing systems.
Harris' nostalgia is subtler but no less present. Her rhetoric evokes the perceived stability and respectability of pre-Trump politics, appealing to voters who are exhausted by the former president's confrontational style and norm-breaking behavior. While acknowledging pressing issues like climate change and social inequality, Harris stops short of proposing the kind of structural changes that many progressives argue are necessary. Her vision, anchored in centrist Democratic policies reminiscent of earlier administrations, may not be sufficient to address the scale of challenges facing the nation, from wealth inequality to the climate crisis.
The reliance on nostalgia by both candidates reflects a broader trend in American politics. It speaks to a widespread sense of dissatisfaction with the present and anxiety about the future. Both Trump and Harris are tapping into a collective yearning for a time when things seemed simpler, more stable, or more aligned with voters' values and expectations.
However, this reliance on nostalgic visions reveals a significant limitation in both candidates' approaches. By looking backward for solutions, they fail to fully address the root causes of current problems or offer truly innovative visions for the future.
The 2024 election thus presents a critical juncture for American democracy. Will voters embrace the comfort of familiar, backward-looking visions, or will they demand a more innovative, forward-thinking approach to governance?
The debate highlighted a paradox in American politics: While there's a broad consensus that significant change is needed, both major party candidates are essentially offering variations on past approaches. This reflects the inherent conservatism of established political parties and the challenges of proposing radical change within existing power structures. It also speaks to the difficulty of articulating a truly new vision that can appeal to a broad electoral coalition.
What's notably missing from both candidates' messages is a truly progressive vision that acknowledges the failures of past policies and proposes fundamental changes to address systemic issues. As climate change accelerates, technological disruption reshapes the economy, and social tensions persist, the limitations of backward-looking solutions become increasingly apparent.
The debate between Harris and Trump revealed not just the differences between the candidates, but also the shared constraints of American political discourse. It highlighted the need for a more forward-looking, innovative approach to governance—one that learns from the past without being bound by it, and that isn't afraid to reimagine systems and institutions to meet the demands of the future.
The 2024 election thus presents a critical juncture for American democracy. Will voters embrace the comfort of familiar, backward-looking visions, or will they demand a more innovative, forward-thinking approach to governance? It is precisely this question that progressives must begin organising around to challenge the threat of rearview politics from both parties. Only in doing so can we truly begin charting a genuinely hopeful course to the future.