MRS Biden’s “Love” jacket was not only a catty dig at a classier, younger and sweeter predecessor. It was two other, more illustrative, things: first, an own-goal advertisement of her own insincerity. Generally speaking, vengeful mockery of an innocent is not the best way to establish credentials for love. If the medium is the message, the Bidens just told the remaining part of the world not aware of it already that they’re loathsome phonies. Second – let this be thematic for all that follows – the jacket confirms that Democrats and the American left are as terrified as ever of Donald Trump and the political reality he represents. Still – poor Jill. She had to rock something to pry cameras away from 33 year-old Carrie Johnson – the “unelected pin-up” of Cornwall’s G7 derby, declares Tattler. Jill decided on obnoxious gall paired with 101 Dalmatians.
We think we’ve grown used to the pace of the early 21st century. We blog, tweet, comment and text because it makes us feel like what’s happening in the world is being marked; that culpability is registered. But this is an illusion – one being used against us. Today’s news cycle has become Lucille Ball’s conveyor belt. Like Lucy, we have no chance of keeping up. We are not supposed to keep up. Lies and truths whiz by to oblivion. After his return to the stage in Greenville, North Carolina, last Saturday, I stopped trying and counted Trump’s derailed chocolates instead. Quite the pile. He was always right about the origins of the China Flu, just as he was right about the Russia Hoax.
Historical told-you-sos don’t come any bigger. Joe Biden’s party and its media militants lied about a virus that has killed 3.5 million-plus. The symphonised absolution of Beijing for what happened in Wuhan is both holocaust and holocaust denial unfolding together in real time. Nothing like this has been seen since Stalin blamed kulaks for the Holodomor. Suddenly the Charlottesville “very fine people” invention, the Lafayette Park fiction, the Steele Dossier and two fake ‘impeachments’ look frivolous. But they were evil harbingers of what followed.
After Trump’s speech, nappies nether and noggin were put to the test as journalists angrily re-spat his name and fearfully re-girded their loins. He was back and his take on the biggest scandal in US history was unassailable. Not only did his enemies pay Russia for a forgery; they paid the Chinese Communist Party for COVID-19. Let that sink in. Nobody dares criticise the call for $10 trillion in reparations but just a few weeks ago Anthony Fauci was arrogantly stonewalling Rand Paul during a Senate hearing for “ranting again” about a lab leak and a designer pandemic. All that remains of his toppled statue is the chiselled smirk. For the Guardian, “hotly contested” is the new debunked. Facebook has scrambled to re-ban Trump for two more years. The New York underworld – which is to say, its above-ground Tammany machine – is attempting to engineer a prosecution. They’re all betting on Trump mattering for years to come. Their fear is that he won’t need Twitter to make that rarest of political cases: the one that speaks for itself. Or will it?