Trump’s Babel
On October 5th, Trump left the hospital after being treated for three days for a coronavirus infection. Now he’s in the White House pretending to be stronger than ever. He has upped the ante more than ever before in his life — he’s betting the election and his life on the chances of him winning the battle against the coronavirus. You have to give it to the man. He has outdone himself in the most true-to-form fashion.
Trump published a video of himself back at the White House triumphantly giving a military salute, presumably to the pilots of Marine I. People in social media noted that he seemed to be gasping for air. One of his followers, upset by what he perceived as criticism, chastised those pointing the obvious out.
The truth is, whether he was actually gasping for air and our opinions are not important at all. What’s really important is the following week or two. The next few days will be the only arbiter of how severe his case is. That’s what science and the experience of millions of people who have contracted the virus show us. We are not just talking about life and death here. Trump could end up being severely impaired by the disease. His own decision of leaving the hospital prematurely increases his risk, according to the doctors who have spent months observing the virus and treating its victims.
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Trump has made the biggest bet of his life (his life itself) against science and facts. It’s like seeing him ordering his army of sycophants build a tower that reaches all the way to heaven — a tower built under his imaginary throne, propelling him to meet and surpass God’s angels; a monument to this man’s hubris and self-obsession. The higher he goes, the bigger the show.
I am enthralled by the spectacle. Other people, wiser and more compassionate than me, gasp around me in the virtual world of social media. They still have sound advice for him and those around him. I am well beyond that. Since February, two things have become crystal clear to me: Trump does not have any sympathy whatsoever toward the people who have contracted COVID-19 or their families, and he will never listen to those that contradict his beliefs. His main belief being that he is above the rest of us in every materialistic way.
Trump has to have the biggest fortune, his name has to be in the tallest buildings, his wife has to be the most attractive, etc., etc., etc. His ultimate delusion, however, is that his grandeur and exceptionalism does not lie in what he has or the people he has bent to his will. Trump, himself, is made of something beyond human and this is his chance to demonstrate it. Without knowing it, this is the moment he has been waiting for all his life. The world’s eyes are on him and he, drunk on a steroid-induced mania, has bet the house on his lucky number.
Other people yell that he must stop. I’m here just a as a spectator, enthralled by such high stakes. The tower teeters and Trump followers chide whoever points it out. The tower teeters and Trump commands from the top: “Faster! Faster!” He seems to see the gates of Heaven. Trump thinks he will be accepted this time and he won’t let this chance pass. Who am I to opine whether he’s right?
At the footsteps of the White House I see a female figure performing a macabre dance that consists of sharp movements. She’s Death. The president’s actions and words have summoned forces he can’t control. Is She here for him? For us? For democracy? All we know for sure is that the stakes are high and real. Her dance will only get more frenetic with time. Caring for ourselves and one another and voting is what we have left. The president’s madness has made voting literally a matter of life and death. In the name of all you hold dear, vote.
