Hot Air: We’ll Miss Him? That’s Crazy!

Slapstick Strategy

Isn’t it clear by now that what President Gag has been doing since his inauguration — since the beginning of his adult life, for that matter — is blurt outrageous stuff as a preamble to actually sitting down and negotiating with different parties?

It’s the old street brawl philosophy: Make your opponent think you’re crazy so s/he will be completely disoriented and off-guard when the real blows fall. In fact, Richard Nixon wanted to use the same gambit with the North Vietnamese. He called it the madman theory. He directed his negotiators and his diplomats to float their concerns to Ho Chi Minh’s people that Nixon was losing it, that he was ready to snap at any moment, that — for chrissakes — he might even nuke the North if he should wake up in a bad mood tomorrow.

This brand of posturing works occasionally, especially in one-on-one, immediate situations where reactions come from the gut, where the adrenaline flow overrides the logical precincts of the brain. It worked when Li’l Duce was trying to negotiate down his debts — and, truly, there is no scarier moment to a banker than to confront the possibility that someone he’s lent a hundred million dollars to just might walk away from his obligation.

At those moments, the future P. Gag had primed the pump by throwing those bankers off balance with his manic, scattershot pronouncements and irrational insults. Then, when the banker and he actually got down to cases, Li’l Duce started speaking rationally. The bankers were so relieved that they became more likely to supplicate him, to make a deal while he seemed, well…, sane.

I’m telling you, he’s doing the same thing now on the world stage.

Problem is, the stakes are higher. A miscalculation could result is something worse than a bad credit rating for himself. Push another egomaniacal, megalomaniacal, borderline sociopath to the brink and he just might press a red button.

The Doctor Is OUT IN

I’ve done scads of pedestrian psychology assessments on the current president since before he even won the White House on a technicality.

The thought occurs to me that when we get a sane, decent human being in the Oval Office again, things’ll be awfully damned boring around this holy land.

Have you ever known someone who was romantically involved with a crazy person? Sure, they’re relieved once the relationship is over, once the high wire act, the drama, the excitement is done and gone. Still, they might miss that excitement now that they’re married to a sane person. Y’know, things have gotten sorta boring.

The Best Money Can Buy

Republicans across the nation are targeting Indiana Sen. Joe Donnelly. They figure any Hoosier Democrat is in a position analogous to the poker player who stays in the game despite holding only a couple of treys. The GOP this primary season is fielding a trio of contenders for the party’s nomination, a triad of Trump-lites. In fact, Todd Rokita, for pity’s sake, often does show and tell with a cardboard cutout of the president at his campaign events. Sheesh. Anyway, big donors are going to flood the campaign coffers of the primary winner. And make no mistake — Democrats from sea to shining sea will throw dough at Donnelly, too.

“The Bosses of the Senate,” by Joseph Keppler, 1889.

Indiana for the next six months will be awash in money. Can you imagine elections wherein big-dollar contributions are outlawed? Where the candidates run on ideas and character, heart and intellect?

No, I can’t either. This is, after all, America.

The End (Delayed On Account Of Rain)

Hell, it’s been so cold and rainy so often that a record number of baseball games have been postponed this month. I mean, this crazy weather is playing havoc with everything. Dang, mang, even that Rapture predicted for Monday was postponed.

Has a makeup date been set yet?

Hah! Yeah, I know — all Rapture dates are made up dates. Heh.

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