When I was a young gunner, probably around the age of 5, my parents received a copy of the New Yorker Magazine. The New Yorker, for my readers who aren't cultured enough to know about this venerable magazine, often has humorous illustrated covers. This particular issue, released during the holiday season, had Donald Trump engaged in a rockette routine with several other celebrities. Being the inquisitive little guy I was, I asked my parents who each one of the characters were. When I got to Trump my parents explained who he was, and my Father, the ardent class warrior he is, told me he was a very evil man who stole from people. Just like that my childhood boogeyman was borne, while other children worried about monsters in the closet, or vampires, or childhood poverty, I was scared of Donald Trump breaking into my house and stealing all my stuff. Now I can imagine my readers incredulity at this assertion, certainly I wasn't precocious enough or possessed enough postmodern irony to truly be scared of Donald Trump, surely this is an artistic conceit to lead into some salient analysis of the latest news that Trump will moderate a Republican Debate, and perhaps a breakdown of Trump's celebrity within our current cultural milieu. While I appreciate the concern, I swear a blogger's oath that my fear of Trump was very real, and took many years of self introspection to cure myself of. I can remember joining my dad while he had some business to attend to in Trump tower and the very real terror I felt walking into the den of the such evil. Suffice it to say my introduction to Trump was unpleasant.
As I grew older, I recognized Trump was something far more benign than the evil figure I envisioned. He was a caricature of a rich man, a Monty Burns writ real. A megalomaniac with unfortunate hair, who realistically posed little to no threat on my being.
In fact I began to develop an affinity for Trump, I enjoyed the first season of The Apprentice, and this last spring the Celebrity Apprentice became required viewing. In fact when Obama announced the death of Osama Bin Laden, my main concern was that I was unable to watch the fierce boardroom showdown between Meatloaf and Gary Busey. Trump was a goofy character, someone with such an inflated self image that it was literally laughable. He was quick to imbue the Celebrity Apprentice with an importance that ridiculous, in the boardroom he'd say inane things as "now Mr. Busey, granted you're an incredible creative talent," or "everyone is underestimating Latoya Jackson, but I can see her brilliance." In return the celebrities showered a similar type of effusive praise towards Trump.
Then came his testing of the Presidential waters. Even though he espoused patently ridiculous "birther" ideas, I still wasn't mad at him. It was a part of who he was, a showman who made his career saying ridiculous things with a stunning lack of self awareness.
Today comes the news that he's gonna moderate a Republican debate on December 27th, and I couldn't be happier. Trump, already a real estate magnate and reality tv star, has made himself a new job as a political pundit. He's done it in a way that mirrors his other careers, with an inflated self importance that seems to reinforce itself through his own sheer determination. His last job was serving as a moderator for celebrity dim-wits so moderating this debate shouldn't be such a stretch for him.
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