Trump in Context

Donald Trump has long seethed at his perceived mistreatment. Despite all the fame, money, and power one could hope for, his experience is less than perfect perfection. The affirmation and submission fall short of full-throated unanimity, and his ride remains outrageously, maddeningly, mildly bumpy.

This stance is not qualitatively different from that of other Americans, who, almost without exception, feel aggrieved, victimized, and underserved while living unimaginably safe, comfortable, pampered, entertained existences here in Utopia. We feel we deserve better, so lingering irritations leave us peevishly put-upon.

Trump and his followers are eager to tear it all down to spite "those bastards"—the faceless victimizers. But most everyone seethes at faceless bastards earmarked for spiting. The only difference is branding. Memes and hats. Everywhere one looks, people seem ready to burn things down given the right trigger words from the right tyrant sending the right tribal signals. Listen to Bernie Saunders speeches circa 2015, where he promised - with populist fire - sweeping, tectonic changes to institutions, while crowds roared appreciatively.

Once again, it's a huge tell that we spend every New Year's Eve kicking the preceding year in its ass. In my 62 years, not one has passed muster, even as we've traced a line of elevation our ancestors could never have imagined. The better things get, the worse it all feels. It's the perennial lot of aristocrats. Living within tantalizing reach of perfection makes petty shortfalls seem prosecutorial, and our pique must be placated! The fate of every princess is to be increasingly vexed by smaller and smaller mattress peas.

Trump is not aberrational. Just a bit extreme.

Maybe not even. Maybe he just got a shot at it.