SEPTEMBER 20, 2024 – I remember the first time I played soccer. It was during Pee Wee baseball practice at Park Street Park. Our so-called coach decided he—and we—had had enough baseball for the afternoon and should try something different, such as soccer. If he knew next to nothing about the sport, we eight-year-olds or whatever we were, knew even less. Since all of us had grown up (or were in the process of growing up) around hockey, everyone assumed that the object was to act like a herd of cats chasing a mouse pretty much wherever the mouse decided to go. Sometimes the mouse decided to go between the improvised goal between a pair of baseball mitts that the coach had laid at each end of the field, but most of the time the mouse . . . er, ball . . . had a mind of its own. Unless someone hauled off and kicked the ball into the street, no one worried about such a thing as “out of bounds.”
When I took a minute at midday today to check the news headlines, I was reminded of that impromptu soccer game, practice or whatever it was on that hot afternoon in July 1963. With 46 days to go before Election Day, we’re supposed to be practicing baseball, but instead, we’re a bunch of cats chasing a mouse around the field. At this rate, we’ll find ourselves in a world of hurt when the people we elect in November face the challenges of governing, as opposed to getting elected so they can wield power and give a little help to their friends.
Instead of worrying about the very real problems, much of the campaign focus has been carjacked by red herrings; by really bad solutions looking for non-existent problems. One fine example is the business in Springfield, Ohio. Another is the persistent effort by certain zealots to question—nay, undermine—the electoral process, the bedrock of our democracy.
Despite my valiant attempts to ignore the poppycock about “illegal Haitian immigrants” eating their neighbors’ pet cats, the story keeps creeping into my newsfeed. What gives with that? Today I read in The New York Times, a guest opinion by the Republican Governor of Ohio in complete, unqualified support of the Haitian immigrants. Governor DeWine knows whereof he speaks, having been born in Springfield and with his wife, having spent his entire life within 10 miles of the town. He knows the people—including the Haitians—well and called out Trump and Vance for spreading a flaming lie.
City officials, including Mayor Rob Rue, have likewise pushed back vocally and insistently on the persistent myth cynically leveraged by Trump and Vance.
Yet, despite such unequivocal push-back from “the adults in the room,” we still have a bunch of eight-year-old Pee Wees chasing soccer balls hither and yon around the park. Actually, it’s much worse. We have adults chasing phantom soccer balls across the American political landscape.
Why? Because, of course, the second you mention “Haitian,” the “I-words” comes to mind, as in “illegal immigrants,” which Trump has used and abused with such disturbing success ever since making Obama’s place of birth an issue.
As I compared superficial political campaigns to Pee Wee baseball . . . er, soccer . . . practice, another more revealing image came to mind: political success in the form of “CURE ALL” in a dark green bottle.
What’s in fact playing out before our eyes and ears is Trump’s trademark tactic in business and politics: selling product by the label alone, not the product itself. He couldn’t care less whether immigrants are saints or sinners; legal or illegal; Arabophones, Anglophones or Francophones; net contributors to or net detractors from our economy; or getting right down to the nub of things, felinivores or vegetarians. Moreover, and most cynically, he has no interest in a solution to the “problem” of illegal immigration, just as he has no concern (or aptitude) for solutions to other issues. In fact, he’s clearly calculated that a solution to uncontrolled immigration is against his political interest—as he did earlier this year when he killed (Republican negotiated) proposed legislation [1] that would have provided substantial relief on the immigration front.
All that matters to Trump is that people have a problem in need of a cure. It’s critical, of course, that the source of the problem be external, not internal; not mistaken judgment by people or ignorance, bad choices or behavior for which personal accountability is required to address the problem effectively. Once a problem, a scapegoat is identified, voila! All one needs is a cure. Trump is a master at manufacturing problems, from election fraud to illegal Haitians killing the neighbors’ cats. Each is easily converted to toxic red meat by legions of online surrogates all too ready to amplify the absurd. The carnival barker then swings the red meat around on a rope, juices flying, in front of the carnival crowd, and surprise, surprise—the people turn into salivating carnivores. They indulge in a feeding frenzy and soon find themselves retching from the toxins, which, of course is the objective of the whole stunt.
Timing is everything in show biz, and Trump knows precisely when to present his specially patented nonsense in a dark green bottle with a bright flashy label that reads, “TRUMP’S NO NONSENSE CURE ALL/The best medicine in the history of the world for toxic red meat and all other ailments.” And to the astonishment of skeptical bystanders, members of the throw-up throng can’t part with their money fast enough to acquire a bottle of “CURE ALL.”
Perhaps in the remaining days of the campaign we can shut down the Pee Wee soccer scramble, leave the carnival grounds and start thinking seriously about real issues, real problems, real solutions. The clock is ticking for all of us.
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© 2024 by Eric Nilsson
[1] I am at a loss as to who else in American political history wielded as much power—while out of office—over people in office. How could Republicans cede such power to someone who is “all about the label,” not the product?
