DeSantis collapses
On May 19, I wrote this about Ron DeSantis when much of the punditocracy was still hyping him as the next big thing. “What a fucking idiot. What a cruel, cowardly, bullying idiot. If you’re getting into the DeSantis market, short the fuck out of your position. He’s a political tragedy just beginning to implode.”
As has become painfully obvious, that assessment was on the money, and tonight, I’d like to do two things: First, I’d like to take a bit of a victory lap at spotting this also-ran for what he was before the herd caught up. Second, I’d like to draft the first (of thousands) of autopsies concerning the DeSantis campaign that will be written when he officially drops from the race after Iowa. The fact that he’s still technically alive, politically, makes it that much more fun.
Call it a premortem.
Ron DeSantis never got off the ground for a few reasons, neither of which he ever really understood. First, he misread Trump’s appeal to the base. He made the same mistake many politicians and right-leaning analysts have made over the years: Mistaking HIS attraction to Trump as the template and extrapolating that template outward to the whole.
He thought why HE loved Trump would translate into why voters would love HIM.
But Trump and DeSantis are just different beasts.
DeSantis is a zealot, whereas Trump never had any meaningful political philosophy to speak of. With Trump, the attraction wasn't ever really policy based. It was atavistic. His supporters love his brashness, because it gives them the hope that they, like the Tangerine Tyrant, could shout FUCK YOU to the world at the top of their lungs without any consequence at all.
Trump’s appeal to the base comes not from shared beliefs, but from the permission he gives his followers to lean into their particular hatreds. But, honestly, Trump doesn’t give enough of a damn about ANYONE to truly hate them if they’re not in his way.
Trump doesn’t hate Trans kids - but if beating them is your bag, have at it, so long as you give him your vote. Trump doesn’t particularly like African Americans, but he doesn’t hate them, either. Still, if you’re willing to send him money, join the team and bring your Tiki Torch, Bugaloo! Trump couldn’t give a furry rat’s ass about abortion. Hell, he’s probably paid for half a dozen or more in his life. He couldn’t give a shit about drag queens, LGBTQ rights, or conservative judicial theory - but if that’s what gets you hard, lube it up!
So long as you come to the rallies and wear the stupid fucking hat, you can have all the judgeships and violent rallies you want.
See, Trump comes to his fascism through self-preservation and ego - not through any coherent belief system beyond personal profit – and that makes him different than the rest of the GOP field.
What DeSantis and the other “true believers” got wrong was thinking that their particular template of hate – the hatred Trump told them they could proudly wave in the air – was what all of the MAGA world desired - and that’s just not the case.
Trump hosted a big tent of hate under which he gathered racists, misogynists, homophobes, transphobes, conspiracy theorists, and violent, anti-government loons - but to build that into a winning coalition, he had to remain above it all – the avatar of the FREEDOM to hate, rather than the champion of any particular strain of that rage. DeSantis never got that. Neither, for that matter, do most of the political analysts trying to understand the GOP world.
Moreover, LOTS of Trump’s coalition of haters don’t passionately fall into the standard boxes provided by the Evangelical / Racist / Ant-LGBTQ+/ or Xenophobic advocacy groups. Lots of the MAGA folks live in a far smaller world of personal hatreds: They hate their boss. They hate that fucking loudmouth coworker with the new car. They hate their neighbor who parks with his bumper in front of their driveway every fucking day. They hate “that b*tch” at the grocery store. They hate the asshole who never puts enough cream in their coffee at the Dunkin Donuts drive-through. They hate the bullshit in their own lives – the annoyances they can’t fix. They hate the bills they must pay and the indignity of watching prosperity on television all day long when they’ve got aches, pains, and misery in a world that’s leaving them behind.
They just fucking hate - and Trump tells them that’s okay!
By his very nature and his practiced prattle, Trump tells them what they want to hear. He tells them that they don’t deserve to be treated that way! He tells them it’s okay to shout “FUCK YOU!” at the top of their lungs whenever they want. And he tells them that they – like him – should face ZERO blowback for telling the world to suck a dick.
That’s why they love him: He’s a cipher of hate.
And that’s also why the DeSantis campaign was dead on arrival.
DeSantis doesn’t arrive with a permission slip to hate whatever you want. Rather, he shows up at your door with a list of WHO you have to hate and WHY. Sure, there’s a crossover between his list and a lot of other lists, but that’s not the point. The love that MAGA has for Trump isn’t about any particular set of hatreds; it’s about the freedom to hate whomever and whatever it is your heart desires to hate.
That’s the key. Trump is the cynosure of all hatreds!
He’s the Great Hall of Hatreds!
He is the unifier of the sacred American right to hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.
DeSantis, on the other hand, isn't a God of All Hatreds. He's just a mealy little lesser priest of homophobia with a side hustle in vaccine conspiracy theories.
That is thin, thin gruel - and it was never, ever gonna sell beyond his own niche of weirdos who fetishize and demonize "woke."
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Then there’s another reason the DeSantis campaign is a few warm days from putrefaction, but this one is tribal and hierarchical. In many ways, campaigning is the art of seduction, and the most powerful bond of political affiliation is when the principal elicits real love – almost erotic love – from his followers. And if you doubt the overlay of eroticism in modern campaigns, Google “Trump Can Grab My Pussy” and check out the images that appear. When that sort of attraction is in the game, the absolute WORST thing you can do as a potential suitor is make a move when the hero is imperiled.
Consider this in the light of a biker-bar romance.
Imagine that the big honcho of the motorcycle gang is facing 20 years in prison on a methamphetamine charge. Everyone knows there’s a good chance he’s going away, but no one – NO ONE – says it out loud. Rather, they gather around the club telling war stories and pretending the Feds would never be crazy enough to take on THEIR gang. It’s fantasy land, but, hey, that’s how plenty of folks get through the day. Throw your wallet on the bar, call for drinks on the house, and keep the rager going.
Then, into that scene comes beta-monkey Ron DeSantis in his white rubber boots, rubbing himself on women and saying, “Since your boyfriend is probably going to the big house, how about getting with me instead, baby?”
Just, ugh. Under NO circumstances is that a good look – and it’s pretty much exactly how the Ron DeSantis campaign is coming across to hardcore MAGA supporters. He’s not garnering a cadre of potential voters thinking, “Well, his IS kinda cute.”
No! God, no!
DeSantis is grossing everyone out. He’s a wormy little boy skulking in the shadows, hoping to score for himself when disaster befalls the gang.
Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross.
So, yeah. While still twitching like a severed frog’s leg on a hot plate, the DeSantis campaign is as dead as dead can be. He’ll still get press for a few months, but he is already yesterday’s news – time to write him off and move on to destroying Tim Scott, a man of whom Tamron Hall recently said, “I don’t debate people who Harriet Tubman would have left behind.”
Ouch.
Until next time, love to you all.
