Just Desserts

Disclaimer: This is not me defending Donald Trump.  I have been observing the catastrophe that has overtaken our democracy of late, and have seen this coming for a while.  There is still a part of me that thinks Trump is deliberately trying to sabotage the process and show it for the sham that it has become.  There is still a little voice inside my head that suspects that he can't possibly be this crass and clueless.  Part of me remembers the Donald Trump of the feud with Vince McMahon in the world of professional wrasslin'.  It is a sad, sad commentary that the world of foreign objects, blatant cheating and impotent referees is more or less analogous to our national electoral process.
But wrasslin' does teach you some important things about human nature.  One of those things is that Heels (bad guys) are mostly more fun to watch than Baby Faces (good guys, called faces for short).  Growing up the best heels were Rowdy Roddy Piper (may he rest in peace), Ric Flair, Terry Funk and of course the master of slimy conniving: Bobby the Brain Heenan (manager).  Wrasslin' has always had a flair (pun intended) for giving us villains, and also making sure that eventually they were brought to justice.  I was a wrasslin' fan in the 1990's when a paradigm shift happened courtesy of one Dwayne Johnson (aka The Rock) and one Stone Cold Steve Austin.  Up until these two, almost any wrassler of consequence had to fit into a mold of Heel or Face, they could very easily switch back and forth, because wrasslin fans have an amazing talent for suspension of disbelief, more so than even Sci-Fi fans.  Predicting a Heel turn or a moment of redemption for a Heel was really the most interesting part of being a fan who was no longer a little kid.  Little kids grow up rooting for the faces, getting emotionally involved with the farcical drama and really hating those lying, cheating heels.
But let me tell you, there is a moment of swelling glory when someone does something noble and right in order to fulfill honor.  The classic example is a Heel, having just lost the inevitable finale to a long feud, where he had won all earlier contests by dubious means, finally extending his hand for a congratulatory handshake.  Sometimes the handshake is "real," a sign of hard won respect, and basically a truce, maybe even the beginning of a mixed and redemptive partnership.  Other times the handshake is just a ruse so that the vanquished heel can get in a couple of cheap shots before running away to more dubious shenanigans.
This is how professional wrasslin' works, everybody but small children and the exceedingly stupid know it, but it doesn't matter because that's the way we are entertained, often by feeling morally and intellectually superior to the actors.  Nobody said it was highbrow entertainment, but it was entertainment.  When the Stone Cold/ Rock paradigm shift happened, things got confusing, characters no longer had to fit the molds of heel and face, they could be dishonorable cheaters one minute and gallant heroes the next.  They could flaunt authority, drink beer, insult the audience and still draw plenty of cheers.  It was reflecting a postmodern perspective before almost anything else the world of entertainment that had mass appeal.  I know that sounds weird, but I believe it bears weight.  TV shows started reflecting the same ambiguity: NYPD Blue and Law and Order, showed us that the good guys weren't always good and that maybe the bad guys story was a little more complicated than it was in Magnum PI.
Donald Trump is a creature of this reality.  Literally, he was actually involved with wrasslin' during this era.  He played the part exceedingly well, and no, he wasn't a wrassler, he was a character, he was basically himself, but he was also playing a part in a drama, where he demonstrated his ability to out power-broker Vince McMahon, which he did, with Vince's full cooperation.  One could tell that they were birds of a feather.  Men who would do anything, make people love them or make people hate them, if it served the story they were telling and made them money in the process.
I have been watching Trump staging a real life episode of Piper's Pit for almost a year now, and I'll tell you, I have often been suckered in to the act, despite the fact that I know better.  But now the danger is growing real, it's like this time where Brian Pillman seemingly lost it on an episode of Raw and went to someone's house (I believe it was Steve Austin) and Pillman seemed to not be acting all of the sudden.  Now it was obviously not a total shoot (as they say in the business about a scene that gets out of control and goes off script), but it did seem kind of disturbing and real.  .
Trump has turned the Republican Primary into a shoot, and now the people who thought they were in control of the script are in a panic mode.  The problem right now is that all they've got is a couple of stooges to ride to the rescue. Cruz is every bit as unnerving as Trump, but not as likeable and Rubio is the definition of an untested rookie baby face.  Neither one of them knows anything about the game that Trump is actually playing here, which is not nice politics.
Even if my theory is true, and Trump really is trolling the system, the disturbing truth has been revealed: large numbers of people are willing to support and vote for a man who embodies our most shameful and base instincts: fear, anger, hatred, the will to power, (I can almost hear Yoda saying, "The path to the darkside are they).  Several people have observed that Trump is essentially the candidate we deserve for all of our sins as a nation. Others have said that they (optimistically) suspect that Trump will moderate once he runs the gauntlet of the primary which now has even the Republican establishment sharpening their knives against him.  I used to sort of trust that second one, but I also know that sometimes the role you play runs away with you.
As far as the first charge: that Trump is the candidate the Republican Party and we as a nation really deserve, if that is at all true than we need to learn some very hard lessons.  Has our fear run away with us?  Have we sold out too many of our ideals?  Are we really a nation that is that much about surface and bluster?  Are we really that disingenuous?
I'm asking myself these questions, even though there was never really a chance that I would ever vote for Trump (or Cruz, or Rubio for that matter) because even if I'm rooting for the other side, heel turns can happen at any time, and even stranger things than that (if Rocky Maivea can become The Rock, and Stunning Steve Austin can become Stone Cold, anything can happen).  I just hope we're not all headed for some sweet chin music from the Heartbreak Kid.