Harold Wilson once quipped that a week is a long time in politics, and no truer example has there ever been than the last week of US politics. So it started with the world’s media picking on this old guy who happens to be the current President over there, highlighting his general inability to walk, talk or think too much without a trip and a fall. In truth, I’m not sure that his gaffs actually outweigh those of his opponent or indeed past presidents such as raunchy Ronald Reagan, but the writing seemed to be on the wall as his closest allies all responded with diplomatic put-downs and knowing looks.
Next up the big orange fella gets his ear blown off by a young whippersnapper sniper in downtown Butler, Pennsylvania. Following the shooting, there are the usual TV talking heads shaking their heads in disbelief at how such a thing could happen and calling on stricter measures to ensure that guns don’t reach the hands of such ‘mentally ill’ persons. The more that emerged about Thomas Matthew Crooks though, the more he seemed to have just been a pretty regular American kid, with good grades, a job in a local nursing home kitchen where staff members had said that he passed a background check with no concerns, and of course a keen interest in firearms, which is pretty much a definition of regular American kid.
Manic Street Preachers at Alexandra Palace
If anyone that day could be said to have any cognitive impairment, it is surely the law enforcement and secret service agents who listened nonchalantly as members of the public pointed out to them that ‘kid on the roof with a gun’, and then went about their everyday business of looking tough and polishing those mirrored shades. Within hours of the shooting, the conspiracy theories had already made the JFK case look like small potatoes. Those who took to their keyboards to exclaim that this was patently planned by the Trumpster to boost his ratings demonstrated a lesser propensity for logical thinking than Mr Crooks for sure. That said, it did offer the big tangerine a fine excuse to claim divine intervention whilst a multitude of adoring fans watched on with sanitary towels taped to their ears (no signs of mental illness there then!).
To say that this was a darkly momentous or historic moment in US history is, it seems to me, somewhat misguided. On the same day that Donald diced with death, seven people died in two separate shooting incidents in the town of Birmingham Alabama – four in a nightclub shooting and three in a car shooting. This didn’t make the world news, or even, I suspect, make the front page of many US media outlets, because folks getting shot at in the US is just not an unusual or uncommon thing. It happens every day. So the only thing of any real noteworthy significance in the Butler shooting was that the intended victim was that rotund old fella who once prompted an insurrection and failed to intervene when a baying mob sought to lynch the vice president. So pretty much business as usual over the pond.
Finally succumbing to the whispers and howls surrounding his covid bed, sweet old Joe bowed out via X and within a matter of moments Queen Kamala was ordained party leader, and received enough dollars in sponsorship to sink a small island or indeed change the course of history for a small planet. A public prosecutor up against a convicted felon promises some riveting reality TV for those disposed to such glitzy thrills. Whilst this all plays out, the world will continue to burn, the wars continue to be waged and a bunch more US citizens will not be as fortunate as Donald the Earless, or even make the late news. I wonder what Harold would say.
Patti Smith at Somerset House
We managed this week to witness two wonderful gigs that weirdly made for rather astute soundtracks to the current world order – Manic Street Preachers and Suede at Alexandra Palace, and the always inspirational Patti Smith at Somerset House. When we sang along to ‘If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next’ we could have been chanting to our frères et sœurs over the channel witnessing the march of fascists through the streets of Paris. The amyl-fuelled buzz of Animal Nitrate was the perfect hedonistic antidote for those us that have a worrying suspicion that new-new-Labour just ain’t gonna be that different, a far cry from the real change required. Patti of course ended her set (with Paul Simonon on acoustic guitar) in rousing form with the essential singalong of People have the Power – well we all need a little hope right now!
With my Arts Team hat on, I have put together Episode 1 of our new St Albans Calling podcast. If you fancy a listen you can find it on most streaming platforms, or at https://www.stalbanspodcast.com/stalbanscalling/
Take care of yourselves and each other.
Comments