“Things could be much worse,” She cried.
“They could be one hell of a lot better,” he answered heatedly.
–Catch-22, Joseph Heller
I am not a political writer, and the only real political identification I’m comfortable with is alcoholic. It’s an honest position, and it tends to get you far more friends than any partisan group or congregation. You buy some beer, or maybe some top-shelf booze, you bring your deck of Cards Against Humanity, and then you spend an evening googling bukkake and object permanence while your wife eventually beats you with that card about two midgets shitting into a bucket. I’m currently on the wait-list to add stoner to my political resume, but only because it seems a far more dignified title than republican or democrat.
This is why it irks me to write about President Trump, or really the version of Trump which seems to possess the only real power: Alec Baldwin’s version of Trump.
The last few decades have been a wonderful time for political satire largely because of Saturday Night Live and The Daily Show. Both of these institutions have educated the American populace about what’s going on in government, but they’ve done it in a way that doesn’t bore, or cause nauseous indigestion. Dana Carvey’s George Herbert Walker Bush became iconic with the “it’s bad, it’s bad,” Tina Fey’s Sarah Palin virtually eradicated her political ethos, and Will Ferrel’s George W. Bush is still in effect the satirical portrait of the last century, that is until Alec Baldwin starred as Trump in a cold open of the Presidential debate.
But this essay is not so much just about Trump himself, it’s in fact about an essay which was recently published in The Atlantic: Alec Baldwin Gets Under Trump’s Skin. My regular reader will remember that I work at the Tyler Public Library, and part of my job is making the rounds and making sure the magazines are in order. Everyday someone has picked up seven copies of the Dallas Morning News and scattered them over a table before leaving, someone has left copies of The Economist in the areas reserved for Red Book or Seventeen, and of course on the other side of the library someone has left an enormous stack of magazines and decided not to return them to their original space. Working this gig has left me sympathetic for people who work in retail who have to deal with this crap every second of every day. While I was rearranging the magazines however I noticed that the new Atlantic was out and on the cover was Alec Baldwin, holding his Trump wig, and being dressed in the nameless orange hue make-up. I would have checked the magazine out right there (because you can check out magazines at the library) but unfortunately it still had the “new” blue sticker on it so I had to wait a month.
It should be noted I apparently forgot that magazines publish in print and online these days. Hindsight and all that. I read the article in under half and hour and I was left so impressed by it I knew that I had to write about it.
As I noted before, the entertainment industry has hit a golden stride in the last few decades with wonderful political satire that often feels more real than the actual people it’s mocking and the American people have been better off for it. These characters and impressions have allowed common people to laugh at their representatives, which is, I would argue, a healthy power dynamic. Chris Jones, the writer of the Atlantic article, briefly notes this:
Michaels has long vowed to keep the show politically agnostic. Whatever the leanings of its stars and hosts, Saturday Night Live is an agent of chaos, as victim-blind as a bomb. It can seem these days that the show is single-minded in its pursuit of the Trump administration, but SNL has always gone after presidents, beginning with Chevy Chase staging some remarkable pratfalls as Gerald Ford. A grinning Dan Aykroyd was the principal Jimmy Carter (“Inflation is our friend”); no fewer than seven performers took their shots at Ronald Reagan, Joe Piscopo most reliably; Dana Carvey’s George H. W. Bush (“Not gonna do it”) became synonymous with the man himself. Phil Hartman jogged into McDonald’s as Bill Clinton, and Darrell Hammond played him as a glad-handing hound. Will Ferrell made for the best George W. Bush, an innocent, distractible child. The show sometimes struggled with Obama—his single most memorable Saturday-night incarnation was arguably Dwayne Johnson’s “The Rock Obama”—but it’s hard to satirize competence.
Trump just makes comedy easy.
Before I dig into this I just had one comment concerning Obama. I don’t deny that I liked, and continue to like, former President Obama, however the last eight years was rather disappointing in terms of political satire because no one could ever make fun of the man. Key and Peele provided the only real substantial character parody, but the problem there was that their parody was based on the fact that Obama was competent and paid careful attention to being eloquent, patient, and intelligent only occasionally letting his inner self out. This absence of satire though created an issue because there were plenty of problems with the Obama administration, like there are in every administration.
Watching the first 100 days of the Trump administration however has been akin to watching…well, I’m a writer and I can’t even come up with an effective metaphor. I was going to come up with something clever and revolting like a rotting frog sucking it’s own festering erection while babies crawl out of it’s back and fall into the “drained swamp” already dead, but my lawyers informed me that this would probably somehow warrant copyright infringement. The only word that feels accurate is tiring. There’s been relentless displays of incompetence, and as Jones notes, this only makes it easy for comedians to parody the man and the people who work for him.
Perhaps the most pathetic aspect of the Trump Presidency however has been its reaction to the public image, or perception of the administration as something corrupt, self-parodying, and completely inept. Every week Alec Baldwin’s performances seem to garner reaction from President Trump, and it’s telling when the man making fun of him notes how easy it would be to kill that image:
Playing Trump is physically demanding—watching footage of his longer performances, Baldwin can sometimes see his mouth begin to droop, his Trump face requiring a combination of contractions that can be hard to sustain—but it’s a psychic challenge, too. Jokes are supposed to provide an escape, for the listener and the teller. Instead Baldwin lives in a state of constant reminder. His country is so far from his hopes for it, and now people won’t stop asking this liberal New Yorker to portray the primary vessel of his disappointments. Baldwin sometimes wishes that Trump would appear next to him on SNL, the way Tony Bennett did years ago, reclaiming his own voice and in the process maybe helping Baldwin do the same.
“If he was smart, he’d show up this week,” Baldwin says. “It would probably be over. He could end it. If he showed up.”
That’s it. That’s really all it would take. It may seem like a simplified analysis, but this action would in fact speak volumes, and at the start of Trump’s campaign for President this seemed the case of what would be. Trump appeared on the The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon and he did a guest spot on SNL alongside two actors portraying him. However, at some point the comedy stopped and President Trump no longer seemed to appreciate the parody, and not long after he began his public bemoaning of being mistreated by the modern media. And even after winning President Trump could do nothing but talk about the size of the crowd at his inauguration or complain that the press was mistreating him.
While I was reading Jones’s article, and thinking about the last few weeks this idea of a leader wanting nothing more than to be liked was eerily similar to Catch-22. Now my regular reader may remember, then again it’s been a while, that I read and reviewed Joseph Heller’s novel Catch-22 observing how the work is a wonderful satire about the abuse of authority. The novel is about a group of fighter pilots in World War II who are required to run “bombing runs” that are, by their nature, suicide missions. The pilots have to fly a certain number of missions before they’re released, and after that trying to explain is ridiculous and so I’ll let Heller’s characters try to explain it to the reader:
There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he has to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and he let out a respectful whistle.
“That’s some catch, that Catch-22,” He observed.
“It’s the best there is,” Doc Daneeka agreed.” (46)
The Catch of Catch-22 has lingered so efficiently in the culture that it’s an actual word now, and Heller’s novel has also lasted as one of the funniest books ever written along with being one of the most tragically accurate presentations of what happens when there is an abuse of authority. Soldiers are expected to follow the orders of their leaders without question, but this creates a conflict because not every leader is going to be intelligent, sly, or even sympathetic. Reading Catch-22 the reader is constantly reminded that the protagonist Yossarian is a sane man living in a world of bloody madness and that it could stop at any time if someone would just recognize that the commanders in power were morons and bullies.
My reader may object at this point, wondering what Heller’s novel about World War II fighter pilots has to do with the Trump Administration and Jones’s article. If my reader will allow me one more quote from the book hopefully my thesis will become clear.
Near the end of the novel Yossarian has rebelled against the leaders and commanders of the squadron, at one point sitting naked in a tree refusing to go on any more missions, and he is confronted by Colonels Korn and Cathcart, the bumbling commanding officers. The two men confront Yossarian about his rebellious impulses and offer him a way out of the war. In its own way, it is deceptively simple, but a close examination reveals it’s anything but:
“—and we have to send you home. Just do a few little things for us and—.”
“What sort of things?” Yossarian interrupted.
“Oh, tiny, insignificant things. Really, this is a very generous deal we’re making with you. We will issue orders returning you to the States—really, we will—and all you have to do in return is…”
“What? What must I do?”
Colonel Korn laughed curtly. “Like us.”
Yossarian blinked. “Like you?”
“That’s right,” said Colonel Korn, nodding, gratified immeasurably by Yossarian’s guileless surprise and bewilderment. “Like us. Join us. Be our pal. Say nice things about us here and back in the States. Become one of the boys. Now, that isn’t asking too much, is it?” (426).
I’ve avoided words like autocrat, dictatorship, and totalitarianism because the internet and media are already awash with voices screaming such words at the current administration, and while some of those voices are coming from rational and thinking people, this constant call is reducing the power of these words and the realities that they express. The problem with dictatorship is not that the citizens are living in a system where power is controlled in one central office, it’s that the populace at large can easily become prey to inept or ridiculous leaders who may demand adoration and affection. The platitude that “power corrupts absolutely” can be tiresome to hear, but human beings are narcissistic creatures by nature, and providing some of them opportunities where their ego can fester into something corrosive and brutish only adds to the problem. Dictators, autocrats, emperors, Kings, and even Presidents can allow this power complex to become something terrible, and at the heart of it all there is a desire to be liked.
I said, before the quote, that Colonel Korn and Colonel Cathcart’s questions was deceptively simple,
and that’s true. It’s an easy request at first to “like” somebody, but beneath comes a deeper implication. “Liking” an individual can sometimes blind you to their faults. I mentioned before that I “liked” and “still like” former President Obama, and at times that blinded me to problems in his administration that became clearer as time when on. Each reader has their own experience, that may or may not even be political. It might be a family member who’s abusive, a friend who’s an alcoholic, or a celebrity crush that blinds them to the fact that the person they adore is an egoist or an outright moron. The “simple request” to like the person who can bring you to harm is in fact a test of integrity.
Those in power will always desire citizenry beneath them to like them or to be sympathetic to their cause, because that approval allows them more power to accomplish their personal and political goals. It’s for this reason that “liking” someone in politics can often lead to ruin or disappointment because human beings are fallible and tend to fuck-up a lot.
I’ve done my best to avoid the outright politics because I don’t want this site to be a political site, but at 2000 words it’s best not to bullshit. So I’ll be clear:
I wrote this essay because watching the Trump administration I’ve become more and more concerned that the United States has elected an irrational egoist who can’t take a joke.
That’s probably why Jones’s article has the appeal that it does. Looking back to his article the character of Trump and his persecution complex only seems more and more clear:
So much of Trump’s popularity hinges on his image as a self-made miracle, a winner, a strong and successful man who is the best at everything and always gets his way. Baldwin has become our deflator in chief, a weekly pinprick in Trump’s balloon. Every time Trump tweets a wounded Sunday-morning response, every time Spicer laughs off McCarthy’s portrayal but then tries a little harder to bury his rage, every time Conway shows up on TV looking a little more challenged and broken, Baldwin can tell himself that SNL is not just making laughs but effecting change.
“Any administration wants the opposite of what Trump is getting now: They want to be saluted for what they’re doing,” he says. “They want to do their job and have people blow trumpets and worship them and throw confetti. They’re like movie stars in that way.” Trump lashes out at Hollywood, but it’s his dream to belong there. “I think that the comedy is effective—I believe that it’s absolutely, 100 percent effective—in that it’s achieving the opposite results,” Baldwin says.
Jones’s article is an important insight into the current zeitgeist, and as time goes on it may not seem as terribly relevant as a literary document. Nevertheless it felt important to bring attention to the essay because the cartoon character of President Trump, that Alec Baldwin brings to life week after week, is something timeless.
Throughout history human beings have mocked and parodied figures of power and influence (often through excellently timed fart jokes)* and it’s been the mark of great leaders who managed to laugh alongside them. Theodore Roosevelt was known to adore every cartoon parody of himself, even at their most biting. Former President George W. Bush opened up a presidential themed hour of SNL alongside Al Gore. And if nothing else, former President Obama invited Kegan Michael Key to play his “anger translator” Luther at the White House Correspondent’s dinner. Politicians need to be laughed at so they, and the citizens they govern, don’t take themselves too seriously.
Humor and jokes bring people back to reality, and it’s rather tragic when reality is somehow only a fraction less goofy than the cartoon image.
On one final note I find it rather disappointing that few people have taken the time to make fun of President Trump using flatulence. Fart jokes have unlimited potential for reducing the ego, because it’s difficult to take anyone seriously when they’re farting. Put President Trump on a golden toilet eating a bean burrito, and I shall show you the stuff that comedy gods are made of.
Please find below this text every video of Alec Baldwin’s performance of President Trump to date. My reader may wonder why I’m including these. The best answer I can give, is fuck him that’s why.
Before I get accused of partisanship, it’s important to remember something. President Trump IS the President, and Democrats are partly to blame for that. There’s been plenty said about the results of the election, but what is important to remember is that Democrats consistently screwed themselves by fucking with the Bernie Sanders campaign which was drawing mass appeal from young voters, veteran’s groups, Black Lives Matter organizations, and white working class voters, the last group who would eventually go to Trump. They are also to blame for the fact that they allowed themselves to get cocky and smug during the campaign which only instilled in them the idea that they had already won which allowed the Trump Campaign to move through rural areas which won them the election.
Democrats fucked themselves, hard.
I just wanted to make sure my reader, who may be a self-righteous liberal or conservative, knew exactly where I stand before they share my article on Facebook or twitter.
My political position remains firm by the conviction: fuck democrats, fuck republicans, fuck liberals, and fuck conservatives. And just to be safe fuck libertarians too.
All quotes from Catch-22 came from the Simon & Schuster paperback edition. All quotes from Alec Baldwin Gets Under Donald Trump’s Skin came from The Atlantic.
If the reader would be interested in reading the article for themselves I’ve included a link below that they can follow to it. Enjoy: