"Ask Me Nicely"

 

It's already clear that the forthcoming (May 3) book by Jonathan Martin and Alexander Burns, "This Will Not Pass," will be a source of more appalling details about the workings of the Trump regime.  Here's what "The Hill" has seen so far (our emphasis):

In the aftermath of devastating storms that knocked out power to tens of thousands of people in Connecticut in August 2020, Gov. Ned Lamont (D) called the White House seeking federal help. Hours later, then-President Trump called back.

“There’s something you want to ask me about FEMA?” Trump said, according to Lamont’s recollection. “Well, ask me nicely.”

The anecdote, reported by the New York Times journalists Jonathan Martin and Alexander Burns in their forthcoming book, “This Will Not Pass,” is just one of a series of Trump’s interactions with governors that struck many state executives as blatant departures from the norms of cooperative governing. 

A brutally transactional, quid pro quo (remember that?) approach to governing, more reminiscent of a petulant mob boss than a president of all the people, is one of the hallmarks of Trump's "management" style.

We already know his narcissistic sociopathy was key to his botched handling of the coronavirus pandemic. The book provides specific examples of how he viewed his role as akin to a mob boss and his blatant disregard for the health and safety of others:

When Trump called California Gov. Gavin Newsom (D) to discuss a cruise ship moored in San Francisco Bay, on which passengers were sick with the coronavirus, Trump agreed to allow the ship to dock so passengers could be treated. Trump said he would be watching, for “the reciprocity,” according to the book.

“He used to say that even privately — that was one of his favorite words,” Newsom recalled later to authors Martin and Burns. “It says everything and nothing at the same time.” [snip]

Trump showed his lack of enthusiasm for containing the virus later that summer, as he tried to push North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper (D) to allow the Republican National Committee to hold his renominating convention as normal, without requiring masks or social distancing inside the arena in Charlotte.

The book reports that Cooper told Trump he was worried about the delegates who would celebrate Trump’s renomination, many of whom were older, almost all of whom would travel from other parts of the country to come together.

“Aren’t you worried about them, particularly?” Cooper asked Trump.

“No, no, I’m not,” Trump replied.

“I’ve never had an empty seat, from the day I came down the escalator,” Trump told Cooper, recalling his campaign announcement at Trump Tower in New York. “I don’t want to be sitting in a place that’s, you know, 50 percent empty or more.”

A final anecdote further illustrates Trump's narcissism, in its most ludicrous yet predictable form:

On a visit to the White House early in the pandemic, New Jersey Gov. Phil Murphy (D) was taken aback when Trump showed him a room adjoining the Oval Office crammed with MAGA gear.

“They literally hand you a shopping bag, and you took anything you’d like,” Murphy recalled to the authors.

A "gift shop" of MAGA junk next to the Oval Office.  Sic transit gloria, America.

What has leaked from the book so far doesn't add much to our basic knowledge that this is a terribly sick, hollow person who had no business being anywhere near the presidency.  What you see here is the banality of American fascism.  Nor will any of this penetrate the bubble that his cult resides in -- they're way beyond hope.  But insights from such books serve as a warning to the rest of us that the danger of the Malignant Loser and his movement regaining power is real and ongoing.

(Photo:  Gage Skidmore)