Ho letto il libro intitolato “Fire and Fury”, sì … insomma, quello che dice peste e corna di Donald Trump.
Vi dico subito a quale conclusione sono arrivato: a forza di parlarne male, criticarlo per tutto, accusarlo di ogni possibile nefandezza, ridicolizzarlo (come in questa foto)
il risultato è analogo a ciò che è successo con Berlusconi: dopo vent’anni di critiche, accuse, processi, prese in giro … il Silvio nazionale sta per vincere le prossime elezioni.
Succederà anche con Trump?
Comunque, ecco il racconto del libro:
si parte dal paradosso: la stampa non si fida di Trump e Trump non si fida della stampa (pag. 39)
the novel paradox of two unreliable narrators dominating American public life: the president-elect spoke with little information and frequently no factual basis, while “the frame the media has chosen to embrace is that everything the man does is, by default, unconstitutional or an abuse of power.”
poi si passa alla “lista” di Steve Bannon (pag. 40):
il decalogo (o meglio … “settologo”) di Bannon ricorda il vecchio decalogo del capo: Art. 1 – Il capo ha ragione. Art. 2 – Il capo ha sempre ragione. Art. 3 – Nell’imprevedibile ipotesi che un dipendente avesse ragione, entreranno immediatamente in vigore gli art. 1 e 2.
(1) Trump was never going to change;
(2) trying to get him to change would surely cramp his style;
(3) it didn’t matter to Trump supporters;
(4) the media wasn’t going to like him anyway;
(5) it was better to play against the media than to the media;
(6) the media’s claim to be the protector of factual probity and accuracy was itself a sham;
(7) the Trump revolution was an attack on conventional assumptions and expertise, so better to embrace Trump’s behavior than try to curb it or cure it.
A chi chiede consiglio? A se stesso, come Grimilde … la strega di Biancaneve che chiedeva a se stessa, riflessa nello specchio, chi fosse la più bella del reame (pag. 46)
“Who’s the person you trust? Jared? Who can talk you through this stuff before you decided to act on it?”
“Well,” said the president, “you won’t like the answer, but the answer is me. Me. I talk to myself.”
Steve Bannon (il suo braccio destro … almeno finché non è stato improvvisamente licenziato) è anche quello che … non usa il computer. Siamo entrati decisamente nel futuro! (pag 59)
Bannon, for instance, even driven by his imperative just to get things done, did not use a computer. How did he do anything? Katie Walsh wondered. But that was the difference between big visions and small. Process was bunk. Expertise was the last refuge of liberals, ever defeated by the big picture. The will to get big things done was how big things got done. “Don’t sweat the small stuff” was a pretty good gist of Donald Trump’s—and Steve Bannon’s—worldview. “Chaos was Steve’s strategy,” said Walsh.
a proposito di Mexico, dopo una campagna elettorale “contro” il Messico, i suoi stavano per ricucire lo strappo, ma Trump, come un elefante in una cristalleria, è entrato a gamba tesa (pag. 69)
The negotiation to bring Mexican president Enrique Peña Nieto to the White House had begun during the transition period. Kushner saw the chance to convert the issue of the wall into a bilateral agreement addressing immigration—hence a tour de force of Trumpian politics. The negotiations surrounding the visit reached their apogee on the Wednesday after the inaugural, with a high-level Mexican delegation—the first visit by any foreign leader to the Trump White House—meeting with Kushner and Reince Priebus. Kushner’s message to his father-in-law that afternoon was that Peña Nieto had signed on to a White House meeting and planning for the visit could go forward. The next day Trump tweeted: “The U.S. has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with Mexico. It has been a one-sided deal from the beginning of NAFTA with massive numbers…” And he continued in the next tweet … “of jobs and companies lost. If Mexico is unwilling to pay for the badly needed wall, then it would be better to cancel the upcoming meeting …” At which point Peña Nieto did just that, leaving Kushner’s negotiation and statecraft as so much scrap on the floor.
si parla del programma “The Apprentice” (quello che in Italia è stato condotto da Flavio Briatore).
Lo sapevate che l’ideatore di questo programma è stato Trump? (pagg. 68 – 81 – 93)
Trump, in a smart move, picked up his media reputation and relocated it from a hypercritical New York to a more value-free Hollywood, becoming the star of his own reality show, The Apprentice, and embracing a theory that would serve him well during his presidential campaign: in flyover country, there is no greater asset than celebrity. To be famous is to be loved—or at least fawned over.
Trump si lamenta della stampa che lo prende in giro per una storia dell’accappatoio. Era uscita una notizia di gossip che raccontava di un Trump spaesato, appena entrato alla Casa Bianca, che vagava, vestito solo di un accappatoio, alla ricerca di un interruttore della luce. Anziché lasciar perdere – a chi non è capitato, entrando nella camera di un albergo, di non trovare l’interruttore della luce? – Trump si è offeso perché lui mai e poi mai aveva indossato un accappatoio! (pag. 79)
On the February 5, the New York Times published an inside-the-White-House story that had the president, two weeks into his term, stalking around in the late hours of the night in his bathrobe, unable to work the light switches.
Insomma, questa dell’accappatoio e diventata una questione di principio (pag. 81)
The point is, he said, that that very day, he had saved $700 million a year in jobs that were going to Mexico but the media was talking about him in his bathrobe, which “I don’t have because I’ve never worn a bathrobe. And would never wear one, because I’m not that kind of guy.” And what the media was doing was undermining this very dignified house, and “dignity is so important.” But Murdoch, “who had never called me, never once,” was now calling all the time. So that should tell people something.
Solo che per la sua difesa ha scelto il programma “comico” per eccellenza, Saturday Night Live (pag. 81). Facendo una telefonata in diretta … della durata di 26 minuti (vi ricorda niente?):
The media was not only hurting him, he said — he was not looking for any agreement or really even any response — but hurting his negotiating capabilities, which hurt the nation. And that went for Saturday Night Live, too, which might think it was very funny but was actually hurting everybody in the country. And while he understood that SNL was there to be mean to him, they were being very, very mean.
E arriviamo alla questione … Russia. Bannon, il suo braccio destro, prese le difese di Trump appellandosi al fatto che una cospirazione del genere non solo non era vera, ma non sarebbe comunque rientrata nelle capacità “organizzative” di Trump (pag. 84)
As for Bannon, who had himself promoted many conspiracies, he dismissed the Russia story in textbook fashion: “It’s just a conspiracy theory.” And, he added, the Trump team wasn’t capable of conspiring about anything.
Trump lotta contro la stampa al gioco di “facciamo a chi … esagera di più?” (pag. 85)
“They take everything I’ve ever said and exaggerate it,” said the president in his first week in the White House during a late-night call. “It’s all exaggerated. My exaggerations are exaggerated.”
Chi fa bella figura è una donna dell’entourage di Trump. Ma gli elogi non piacciono a Trump. L’unico che meriti elogi … è solo lui! (pag. 95)
In these crosshairs was thirty-two-year-old Katie Walsh. Walsh, the White House deputy chief of staff, represented, at least to herself, a certain Republican ideal: clean, brisk, orderly, efficient. A righteous bureaucrat, pretty but with a permanently grim expression, Walsh was a fine example of the many political professionals in whom competence and organizational skills transcend ideology.
Leggere? No, grazie! Trump non legge libri, ma non legge nemmeno le relazioni che gli sottopongono, gli studi, i grafici. A lui piace solo parlare. Soprattutto quando lui è l’unico ad avere la parola! (pag. 98)
Trump didn’t read. He didn’t really even skim. He was postliterate—total television. But not only didn’t he read, he didn’t listen. He preferred to be the person talking.
Lavorare in “team”? Non sia mai! (pag. 101)
As Walsh saw it, Steve Bannon was running the Steve Bannon White House, Jared Kushner was running the Michael Bloomberg White House, and Reince Priebus was running the Paul Ryan White House. It was a 1970s video game, the white ball pinging back and forth in the black triangle.
Anche perché i membri del suo team (per sua stessa ammissione!) … non sono molto affidabili (pag. 104)
In paranoid or sadistic fashion, he’d speculate on the flaws and weaknesses of each member of his staff. Bannon was disloyal (not to mention he always looks like shit). Priebus was weak (not to mention he was short—a midget). Kushner was a suck-up. Spicer was stupid (and looks terrible too). Conway was a crybaby. Jared and Ivanka should never have come to Washington.
Ma anchi i suoi sostenitori non sono da meno. Richard Spencer – il guru dei suprematisti bianchi – ha festeggiato il trionfo di Trump al grido “brindiamo a questo nuovo 1933” con ovvio riferimento all’anno dell’ascesa al potere di Hitler! (pag. 107)
Richard Spencer, the president of the National Policy Institute, which is sometimes described as a “white supremacist think tank, said; “Let’s party like it’s 1933,” as in the year Hitler came to power—provoked an outcry with his widely covered “Heil Trump” (or “Hail Trump,” which of course amounts to the same thing) salute after the election
Trump, secondo Bannon, sarebbe riuscito a portare la pace in Medio Oriente (pag. 119)
He would make peace in the Middle East.
“He’s going to make peace in the Middle East,” Bannon said often, his voice reverent and his expression deadpan, cracking up all the Bannonites.
Ma Kissinger la pensava diversamente (pag. 119)
In the Trump White House, observed Henry Kissinger, “it is a war between the Jews and the non-Jews.”
Ci sarà qualcuno capace di scrivergli un discorso? (pag. 122)
There was a lack of coherent message because there was nobody to write a coherent message—just one more instance of disregarding political craft.
Insomma, la storia procede in maniera piuttosto deludente, fatta soprattutto di gossip (e di evidente e reiterata incompetenza nel gestire il proprio ruolo: il Presidente Trump non ne esce per niente bene!).
Ma alla fine uno si stufa anche di leggere … (lo ammetto, prima della pagina 200 ho smesso).
Magari se mi viene voglia di riprendere in mano il libro ve lo farò sapere