The Circus Is In Town, Send In The Clowns

There are times when the wheels turn silently, in the dark, or behind a wall. There are times when the machinations of power are invisible to the governed, only glimpsed through an article that cannot connect two dots, a single line in a bill that didn’t seem to belong. There are times when America cannot protect itself from itself because it cannot see the enemy.

This is not that time.

The grim numbers from the Coronavirus continue to escalate almost six months after they began. New unemployment by the million-plus is revealed weekly and has begun to once again rise. A promising momentum towards addressing racial inequality has stalled as the Senate adjourns, and municipalities focus on begging budgets reaching into empty pockets. Tens of millions of Americans desperately search for answers to a landlord’s demands, to a bank’s threats, to an empty pantry, and to their children’s care and learning.

Against this intense and fraught backdrop, an election looms less than 100 days from now. As the virus steals another thousand lives every day, the administration has accepted that no help is coming from the medicines, from the economy, or from their record on the issues in a time that will that matter. Faced with the looming loss of their power, they have decided to play the only card that they have left: Fear.

Fear as in televised images of smoke-filled streets and flashing lights. Fear as in references to “others” invading quiet suburbs and demanding… Something. Whatever it is, but doing it loudly, and dangerously. Fear as in the hints of impending chaos and anarchy, even if that chaos is being fomented by the same administration. Fear of the loss of associated power because of the demands of the powerless to share it. Fear of “them”.

The staging of artificially induced conflict on American streets is nothing new. Every generation or two has its own version, a dramatic portrayal of the one thing that strikes horror in too many of us: a change to the status quo. Sometimes it’s a foreign enemy, sometimes it’s a religion or belief, but most often it’s racism that’s called to serve. It’s a simple equation — while you have to actually tell the public what nationality or religion someone is, you simply have to televise a black or brown face to make your message clear. Words are unnecessary; there’s been enough indoctrination to fill in the blanks.

To be clear: to call this a Trumpian strategy is oversimple and wrong. While the President obviously relishes the division and suffering that he causes America, he has no power to orchestrate the national tumult by himself. He needs the daily work of hundreds of his sycophantic allies in his cabinet, in the Senate and House, in the media and throughout his branch of government in order to so flagrantly trash America. All the President can do is be the ringleader, the figure at the teleprompter reading his lines.

The nakedness of their assault on America is breathtaking. The virus that has been mismanaged into an existential crisis? He has hit the trifecta: intentionally delivered by the Chinese, brought over the southern border by illegal Mexicans, spread across the cities by the rioting Black protesters. We’re still waiting for the Muslim connection.

That overwhelming failure of the administration to respond to the pandemic? It’s the scientist’s turn, as the trumpets of propaganda smear the men and women who, before this moment, were the world’s first choice for wisdom and insight over decades and crises. The evisceration of the once-proud CDC before our eyes, the kabuki theater of issuing guidelines and decrying them before their ink dries, the daily shell games of masks and no masks, arenas and distancing, opening and closing… all of it designed to create plausible deniability, no matter how flimsy the cover. The numbers “look bad”? The meaningless volume of still inadequate and ineffective testing is to blame, and by the way, let’s not have those numbers reported anymore, let’s hide them in a different agency. Transparency is the enemy, reality is the danger.

It shouldn’t work. Trump is the lousy ventriloquist whose lips always move. The actors playing federal thugs are wearing mismatched costumes, and everyone has a camera. The somber pictures from hospitals overflowing and first responders clinging to each other for support provide too vivid a contrast to the happy stupid talk and flowing falsehoods. The nation should be disgusted not only by the criminality but that the clowns don’t feel the need to do a better job of hiding their crimes. The 145,000 deaths and collapsed economy should be enough to keep our focus away from the flashing lights and twirling costumes.

It shouldn’t work… but there are some small signs that the indignant rejection of the public isn’t total. There are glimmers of danger that the recycled play of nameless fear and streets on fire is moving the needle, however slightly. If the coming polls show any form of tightening, the hope will stir that one more time, the strings can be pulled and one more election might be stolen by an underserving charlatan and his motley crew.

The solution is as obvious as their play. America needs to grow up and loudly reject the fakery and manipulation. The country needs to rally to the support of the protected protest, and the sincere efforts of our public servant scientists and doctors. The media has to keep its cameras wiped clean and microphones working, and avoid the flagrant distractions being planted in front of them. The political interests need to reckon with the penalty of backing a corrupt loser, and finally, belatedly, move away from the crash scene.

At this moment, we need to embrace the dignity and courage of John Lewis and march for the betterment of our country. We need to let the punches and the slurs bounce off of our shoulders, and wipe the blood from our heads without turning around, without giving up our missions. We need to renounce the shameful circus and side rings and push our real leaders to stay with the hard work of saving lives and recovery.

It is 100 days until we can begin to start again in America, but if we wait until then too many will be lost, too much sacrificed on behalf of a honking car of clowns clinging to a circus about to close. We need to walk out of the tent, and into the cleansing sunshine of a country that has a lot of work to do, and no more time for illusions.