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There’s an amusing yet persistent ailment plaguing the right, akin to the common cold except it seems more deeply ingrained. We all understand that the New York Times, NBC News, and Vanity Fair are bastions of left-leaning rhetoric, yet somehow, they seem to hold sway over what constitutes “elite approval.” It’s baffling, really, like knowing not to touch a hot stove but being inexplicably drawn to it. Now, Susie Wilds, President Trump’s chief of staff—a woman evidently tougher behind the scenes than a two-dollar steak—decided to venture into Vanity Fair’s territory for around eleven interviews. One couldn’t help but picture her as a character in a screwball comedy, valiantly trying to elucidate the administration’s marvels to an audience that’s prepped with spliced edits and unflattering photos.
The trouble seems to stem from a misguided quest for validation, as if getting a nod from Vanity Fair could somehow bestow a mystical aura of prestige. Wistfully, it’s like waiting for the school’s coolest kid to invite you to the dance even though your own backyard party is just as good. Elite approval, it turns out, is a shiny but hollow trophy. Leaders from the right find themselves bowing to the court of public opinion served by these publications, only to be caricatured and misrepresented. Case in point: the photographic ambush on Carolyn Levit. In some galaxy not so far away, perhaps a fair shot could’ve been presented, one not intended to highlight every unflattering crease and shadow. But why bother when you can caricature someone to fit a preordained narrative?
It’s said there’s no such thing as bad press, but who are we kidding? Even Bill Maher’s faint praise throws some into a tizzy, like a classroom of hands shooting up at the teacher’s first mention of extra credit. There’s no shortage of voices on the right expressing admiration for their own. Imagine an expansive table where everyone has a seat. Yet, inexplicably, some make pilgrimage to Vanity Fair hoping for an audience, only to find that the table is not set for them. Instead, it’s laden with traps and half-baked satires.
Moreover, the mainstream media loves a whirl around the conspiracy carousel when it comes to figures like JD Vance. He’s a paradox wrapped in mystery, served with an occasional side of Tucker Carlson on the rocks. Now, JD with his conspiracies, you see, does the unthinkable: he picks only those that grow into truths with age, much like a fine wine—or perhaps, if we’re honest, like that rumor that the basement of Washington is really a den for lizard people. Perhaps Vance’s greatest fault is his nuanced stances in a political climate that feasts on absolutes.
Meanwhile, the phenomenon that is Donald Trump—salesman extraordinaire and the primary conductor of disruption—continues to baffle with claims and counterclaims on his economic successes. Inflation conquered, wars averted, and peace spread like soft butter on a global roll. Yet, there’s irony in his insistence that the good times are here again when the folks in the stands—perhaps less in line with Trump Tower than he’d like—feel a different sentiment at the store checkout line. His year has been, per his assertion, a miracle. Yet, it’s a miracle in the vein of a great show, impressive but leaving some skeptical viewers still yearning for the strings behind the curtain.
Thus, as leaders and laggards from both sides continue to dance with the press, the melodrama plays on. Susie Wilds, JD Vance, and President Trump each command their own peculiarly entertaining episodes on this political stage. The right’s itch for recognition-approval from the New York Times brigade underscores the whimsical contradictions of political power; stuck between wanting to dance with the elites and refusing to share the same floor. They say political drama is the greatest show on earth. With the likes of Vanity Fair, et al., strutting about, one wonders if that reputation is well-earned or merely a grand illusion maintained by a magicians’ guild of befuddled pundits.
