The “Frank” is Frank Bruni, long-time NYT columnist.
Yesterday, the title of his column, “The Vanity and Inanity of the Trump White House,” drew me right in, because of the language. I’m a sucker for good phrases and stuff like that. And Bruni gave me pots of pleasure wielding that knife in his language, excerpts of which I’m now sharing with you so you, too, can have pots of pleasure:
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. practices the politics of narcissism…
Thus, RFK Jr is saying to us…
I flaunt a sun-sizzled appearance, so you should have the same leathery license.
About two months ago, the health secretary nixed a proposal by the Food and Drug Administration to make tanning beds, like alcohol and cigarettes, off-limits to minors…Is there some melanoma lobby we don’t know about?
[The Trumpers are] fixated on looks — to a degree that’s not remotely normal, in a manner that’s positively cartoonish, with no appreciation for how much of themselves and their vacuous governing philosophy they’re revealing.
Never have I witnessed a White House so devoted to surfaces. Surfaces caked with makeup. Surfaces puffed up with hair spray. Surfaces glossed with gold. Surfaces that glitter blue — or someday might, if the over-budget overhaul of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool ever works out as promised.
Your sheen is your success, and you are what you impersonate.
“On top of everything else, he is ‘central casting,’” Trump wrote in the late January social media post that announced [Kevin] Warsh’s selection.
All the world’s a television show, “central casting” is a recurring compliment and handsomeness or beauty establishes a kind of superiority, which in turn bequeaths confidence, which then begets dominance. By his zoology, an aviary of peacocks equals a menagerie of lions.
And what peacocks these putzes are. In many other milieus, Kristi Noem’s comically voluminous tresses, suspiciously plump visage and unsubtle makeup would be a waste of aggressive cosmetology. In Trump’s circle, they established her as a fierce warrior goddess…
In many other milieus, Pete Hegseth’s habit of sharing videos of his workouts would be seen as a grossly self-enamored distraction. In Trump’s circle, they’re a testament to his tenacity…Nothing spells imminent doom like a cabinet member’s pecs.
Trump treats physical vanity as a secret handshake, a sign that you get his egotistic ethos and you belong. If you’re not strutting, you’re not selling.
Pitch and packaging are everything. Perfect them and you don’t have to worry about the product itself…That thinking informs the cabinet secretaries’ physical preening just as it explains the president’s oratorical preening — all those ludicrous superlatives — and his emphasis on costumes, scenery and slogans.
The war with Iran is Operation Epic Fury, and it has demonstrated anew that the Trump administration’s initiatives are lavishly marketed rather than carefully conceived. Assessments of the war’s progress change daily, even hourly, and repeatedly turn out to be unreliable, because they’re often just phrases put through the language equivalent of tanning beds to be given a glow and bronzed just so. That’s what’s important. Not the cancer growing beneath.
Brilliant, and deeply wise.