New York
Election night parties are usually dreadful affairs, with the idiot box blaring and hysterical listeners screaming out the latest info. American TV pundits are smug trained seals, over made-up and blow-dried, and they all sound the same with their rehearsed stentorian voices. Brian Williams, or the ‘hero of Iraq’ as I call him after he was caught lying about a rocket attack on the chopper he was riding — he was safely on the ground and trembling — sounded sombre announcing that South Dakota had been called for the Donald. These so-called anchors no longer even pretend to be objective, and they had long faces when the predicted Biden landslide was gone with the dawn.
I, too, had predicted a Biden landslide, and was also wrong about a more important subject than the election — my dinner party. I had written that I would be the only pro-Trump diner, but it turned out there were six of us for the President and barely two for the man who lives in a basement and forgets his name at times. My guest of honor, Prince Pavlos, is required to be apolitical, although I can guess where his sympathies lie. Arki Busson is also apolitical, so I spent dinner asking him about Hollywood beauties he has known. But Arki is a sphinx when it comes to conquests, like the gent that he is. Bartle and Claudia Bull are a beautiful couple straight out of F. Scott Fitzgerald, and they didn’t mince their words. Bartle is a writer, filmmaker and adventurer and we often tease him about being a top CIA operative. (He goes on holiday to places like Fallujah in Iraq, hence the suspicion.) My buddy Michael Mailer, needless to say, is to the left of Felix Dzerzhinsky, so no guessing was required as to whom he was rooting for. Two beautiful young women, Enga and Emilie, were too polite to express their choice, which suited me just fine.
Exit polls showed that Trump won 18 percent of black men, 36 percent of Latino men, and 58 percent of white men. The last time a Republican got a larger share of black votes was when the man who lives in a basement could actually remember his name, back in 1976. The media hysteria against Trump reached its apotheosis as the vote neared. I believe that no foreign adversary of Uncle Sam’s has ever received such abuse as the Donald has. After it became obvious that Biden had won, an MSNBC anchor by the name of Joy Reid complained of a ‘great amount of racism, anti-blackness and anti-wokeness’. What the hell? A blowhard by the name of Charles M. Blow of the Bagel Times went a step further: the boost in black support pointed to ‘the power of White Patriarchy’.
Just imagine what the rhetoric would have sounded like if the wokes had lost. One Jane Mayer, who hates rather a lot and would have envied but despised my dinner guests, writes, in the magazine whose star writer was caught in flagrante masturbating on Zoom a couple of weeks ago, how Trump’s niece Mary believes he must feel like ‘a terrified little boy’ and he will soon be ‘running from the law’. Another source calculates that the Donald will abscond to a foreign country that has no extradition treaty with the United States. Hers is a longwinded article built on hate and speculation about preventing a president from pardoning himself and how a corrupt president is a danger to the country.
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I am used to the lies of the left, to Big Tech’s quelling of any free speech that runs counter to its PC culture. But what surprises me is how the people who own these media outlets — whose grandparents and ancestors started out dirt poor, came to America, worked hard and prospered beyond their wildest dreams because of free enterprise — allow their editors to wage unremitting war against the country and the system that gave them their opportunity. The Sulzbergers, Bezoses, Newhouses, Zuckerbergs and Dorseys of this world.
Never mind. The Donald was raged against from day one. Globalists, academia, the media and the entertainment industry viewed him as a 21st-century Hitler. Now that 72 million Americans have voted for him, the cultural elite has a new enemy. These ‘deplorables’ are working class, men and women who go to church, work hard, obey the law, and respect tradition and their past.
I can picture Big Tech and media big shots asking each other where in hell did these blacks and Hispanics who voted for the monster come from? Who the hell are these yokels who never went to college to resist us so flagrantly? University grads mainly voted for Joe. High school grads went for the Donald. The elite are up in arms. So there you have it: Trump did not help his case by whining after losing. Decorum and dignity in defeat were never his strong points. My little dinner party was an oxymoron. We lost but took defeat elegantly. Michael Mailer did not gloat. Mind you, we were all so drunk by the time it was over, some of us were cheering the fact that Eisenhower had beaten Stevenson. But those were the good old days. When JFK won the 1960 election by stealing Illinois, Richard Nixon refused to challenge for the sake of the country. Back then it was called patriotism; now only suckers play that game.
This article was originally published in The Spectator’s UK magazine. Subscribe to the US edition here.
