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Audiobook
First published September 12, 2017
Prologue:I so wish she had said “I think I’m gonna barf,” but we can’t have everything. NBC reporter Katherine Bear “Katy” Tur was not alone in feeling that way. In fact, a wave of nausea has been crisscrossing the nation ever since November 8, 2016, a date that will live in infamy, trapped in a seemingly endless back and forth sloshing. Tur had more reason for gastrointestinal distress than most. She had been assigned to the Trump campaign for the duration of the seemingly endless electioneering season. Seeing this guy elected president of the United States would turn your stomach too if you had been seeing what he was really like for over 500 days.
Trump Victory Party
New York Hilton Midtown
10:59 P.M. Election Day
I’m about to throw up.
“I don’t know why he did it,” she said, shrugging. “But I will say this: I know that had I exhibited any sign that I was intimidated or scared of him, he would have rolled over me.”It seems likely that Trump focusing so much on Tur may have been a manifestation of his epic misogyny.
…don’t misunderstand me. The Hilton is nice. It’s been host to many grand events. But it can’t hold the kind of ten-thousand-person rallies that Trump has built his campaign around…There isn’t even free booze. The bar is charging seven dollars for sodas, eleven dollars for beers, and thirteen dollars or mixed drinks. Trumps advisers claim that Trump is just superstitious. He doesn’t want to jinx himself with a big show event. Cynics—or, as Trump calls them, “haters”—say he’s just cheap. About that cash bar: Red State calls it an “abomination.” GQ rates it pure Trump. “Let history show that up until the moment his fate became official, Donald Trump remained true to himself, a serial grafter and shameless carnival barker who let nothing come between him and the opportunity to get his grubby hands on a few more dollars.”
Fascinating to watch people writing books and major articles about me and yet they know nothing about me & have zero access. #FAKE NEWS!Typical
Certain people have a presence that’s bigger than their physical size, an ability to ripple the air. They fill the room with significance, or at least with a perfect imitation of it. Trump has that kind of presence.And her reflection at a campaign event in the Mar-a-lago ballroom:
And he’s orange. There’s no other way to describe him. He’s the color of orange marmalade, perhaps a shade darker, like marmalade on toast…
He also doesn’t say hello, exactly, but sort of sings it. He smiles and squints, and the sound seems to slip out the side of his face.
It’s actually kind of impressive...But as I watch all this money walk around, as I survey a room of people nipped, tucked, and sucked to their ideal of perfection, I can’t help thinking of Trump’s rally crowds. The people in this room are decidedly not the people at his rallies. The rally people arrive in denim, flannel, and thick-soled boots. They wait for hours, eat whole pizzas in the security line, tattoo Trump’s face on their forearms.
The people in this ballroom are not the subject of Trump’s speeches either. Their industries aren’t dead. Their jobs didn’t disappear overseas. More likely, these are the people shipping the jobs overseas. These are the people slashing budgets and enhancing their own bottom line while the bottom falls out of everyone else’s lives.
What would the people at Trump’s rallies say about the people at his victory parties? What would the folks who are fanning Trump's political flames think of all these gilded types trying to warm themselves by Trump’s new fire?
I've learned that Trump insists that he has "the world's greatest memory," but his vision of the future got him this far. I've learned that Trump has his own version of reality, which is a polite way of saying he can't always be trusted. He also brings his own sense of political decorum. I've heard him insult a war hero, brag about grabbing women by the pussy, denigrate the judicial system, demonize immigrants, fight with the pope, doubt the democratic process, advocate torture and war crimes, tout the size of his junk in a presidential debate, trash the media, and indirectly endanger my life.
I've learned that none of this matters to an Electoral College majority of American voters. They've decided that this menacing, indecent, post-truth landscape is where they want to live for the next four years. Look, I get it. You can't tell a joke without worrying you'll lose your job. Your twenty-something can't find work. Your town is boarded up. Patriotism gets called racism. Your food is full of chemicals. Your body is full of pills. You call tech support and reach someone in India. Bills are spiking but your paycheck is not. And you can't send your kid to school with peanut butter. On top of it all, no one seems to care. You feel like you're screaming at the top of your lungs in a room full of people wearing earplugs.
I get it.
What I don't get are the little old ladies in powder-pink MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN hats calling me a liar. I don't get the men in HILLARY SUCKS -- BUT NOT LIKE MONICA T-shirts. I don't get why protesting a broken political system also means you need to protest the very notion of objective truth.
Well, I’ve learned that Trump insists that he has “the world’s greatest memory,” but his vision of the future go him this far. I’ve learned that Trump has his own version of reality, which is a polite way of saying he can’t always be trusted. He also brings his own sense of political decorum. I’ve heard him insult a war hero, brag about grabbing women by the pussy, denigrate the judicial system, demonize immigrants, fight with the pope, doubt the democratic process, advocate torture and war crimes, tout the size of his junk in a presidential debate, trash the media, and indirectly endanger my life.
I’ve learned that none of this matters to an Electoral College majority of American voters. They’ve decided that this menacing, indecent, post-truth landscape is where they want to live for the next four years. Look, I get it. You can’t tell a joke without worrying you’ll lose your job. Your twenty-something (sic) can’t find work. Your ton is boarded up. Patriotism gets called racism. Your food is full of chemicals. Your body is full of pills. You call tech support and reach someone in India. Bills are spiking but your paycheck is not. And you can’t send your kid to school with peanut butter. On top of it all, no one seems to care. You feel like you’re screaming at the top of your lungs in a room full of people wearing earplugs.
A man in the crowd yell out that Trump should buy NBC.
Trump doesn’t disagree, and adds that he could “fix NBC.” “I know what sells.”
No one she (Ali Vitali) spoke to is disturbed by the Muslim ban.
“It’s a wise decision,” said one man waiting in line.
Another man, a soldier who had done tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, went further. To continue to allow Muslims to come in would be a “kick in the face to every veteran,” he said. The only thing better than a ban would be mass deportations, he said.
“Ship them all back.”
His supporters tell us they like this (referring to Muslim ban). They believe it is a wise decision. And they believe Donald Trump is going to keep them safe. Why in our latest MSNBC poll, we found that 60 percent of Republican voters say that one of their biggest concerns is being the victim of a terror attack.
But it works for him (referring to Trump’s rhetoric). Everything he says falls into one of two categories. If it’s good it’s “we.” If it’s bad it’s “they.” “We” are going to have o much winning. “they” are going to hate it. His supporters feel that he is fighting for them. They identify with him. They can relate. “He talks just like us," supporters say over and over again. He’s the rich guy they would be if they were rich. And he knows it.
“He uses the reporters to recreate razzle dazzle: there are five stories in the morning papers leading into 11 minutes of television at night,” Breslin wrote.
The financial people, who lead such dreary lives, believe what they read and see on television. Trump is larger than life. No, not Trump. Don’t use that name. It’s Donald! He cannot lose…
Trump will call and announce his rise. The suckers will write about a heroic indomitable spirit. Redemption makes and even better tale. O many bankers will grab his arm the sleeve will rip. All Trump has to do is stick to the rules on which he was raised by his father in the County of Queens:
Never use your own money. Steal a good idea and say it’s your own. Do anything to get publicity. Remember that everybody can be bought.
But it’s not clear what he’s talking about when he says, ‘Everybody goes against us—down the tubes.”
Who would go down the tubes? Critics? The opposition party? Non-Trump voters? And who would send them down the tubes? Who is this us? Trump staggers? A legion of yes-men? What does he mean by down the tubes? Professional failure? National expulsion? Public embarrassment? Death?
Trump would deny the menace in these metaphors, but there’s a calculated vagueness to them. Some supporters think he’s joking, while others feel he’s laying the foundation for a militia they’d like to join.
He set the tone in his announcement speech warning that America was getting “weaker.” Now his message is all about America getting tougher and stronger and, in winks and nods, more violent and unforgiving, too.
People seem drawn to Trump’s rallies in the same way that they are drawn to a professional wrestling match and as with a professional wrestling match, they seem divided between people who believe all they see and hear, and those who know it’s partially a performance. The scariest thing about being a Trump rally is that you don’t know who believes it and who doesn’t.
The people in this ballroom are not the subject of Trump’s speeches, either. Their industries aren’t dead. Their jobs didn’t disappear overseas. More likely, these are the people shipping the jobs overseas. These are the people slashing budgets and enhancing their own bottom line while the bottom falls out of everyone else’s lives.
What would the people at Trump’s rallies say about people at his victory parties?
Now, that story is probably apocryphal. But it shows the kind of love that’s out there for some politicians, and Trump is, for a good portion of America, a politician who inspires that kind of love. “Nothing short of Rump shooting my daughter in the street and my grandchildren” can dissuade me form voting for Trump, a woman told Ashley Parker of the New York Times.
As I run through a mental list of questions for Trump, one comes to mind for rank-a-file Republicans. Why drop Trump now? Why is this (pussygate) the line for Republican Why not calling Mexicans rapists? Or fighting with the pope? Or racism toward a federal judge? Or the fraud lawsuits? Or the name-calling? Or the fearmongering? Or the xenophobia? Or the countless other degrading statements he’s, made about women, including his own wife? For god’s sake, why not the half decade of birtherism?
Every day on the campaign trail Trump’s actions test the definition of normal. He calls for jailing his opponent. He openly admonishes sitting general. He singles out minority groups for blanket condemnation. He goes after the spouses of his rivals. He questions the integrity of the election itself. He is endlessly hostile toward the media. All of this Trump does so often that it’s a struggle to remember what’s old news, by the standard of his behavior, and that is big news, by the standard of history.
I am desperate to talk about his voters. I want to do a piece explaining that they don’t care about the headlines. Either they aren’t paying attention to them or they are discounting whatever they hear. The Access Hollywood tape, the women accusing Trump of sexual assault, the dark premonitions and lingering grudges—out her, in Trump’s American, none of it is as big a deal as it is in New York or Washington.
Then he (Trump) admitted something usually left unsaid, something expressing in wrinkles, dark circles, and gray spots. “This is more work than in my previous life,” Trump said. Yes, it’s hard being president. People aren’t usually surprised by that fact. Trump was. “I thought it would be easier,” he said.