#書# 2018《Fire and Fury》6/10
讀《Fire and Fury》純粹是為了滿足政治八卦慾望的，本來沒想著寫讀書筆記，但是緊跟著讀了原白宮警衛寫克林頓性醜聞的《Crisis of Character》，希拉里的《What Happened》，然後還有讓我歎為觀止的《Hillary's America》，再把之前讀完感觸很深的《Hillbilly Elegy》挖出來翻看，突然覺得這場選舉的歷史意義比Obama這個第一黑人總統還大，非常值得記錄一下，以後可以拿出來嘲笑一下自己。
Long long time ago，國王“穿著”新衣遊行，童言無忌的孩子說出了真話，然後……然後孩子長大了，他領悟了國王為什麼能成為國王，於是他決定競選美國總統！是的，這就是川普！是的，這就是2016年國王新衣的You're Hired 真人秀！
川普不是一塊朽木，他有驚人的商人直覺，黑洞也吸不完的厚臉皮——shameless, campy, and instructive: if you were willing to risk humiliation, the world could be yours，強烈的好勝心 the relentlessness and indefatigability of his ceaseless attempts to win it over，無窮的自我修復能力 You hit Donald along the head, and he keeps going. He doesn’t even know he’s been hit.，還有驚人的說服力 He was a force of personality. He could make you believe.，這簡直就是完美的政客，做商人真是浪費了他的天賦！
他明顯就是alpha male，靠鬥爭上位，並且耀武揚威鞏固地位，但去掉盔甲，居然是一隻“大白暖猴”——He may have been the most threatening and frightening and menacing presidential candidate in modern history, but in person he could seem almost soothing. His extreme self-satisfaction rubbed off. Life was sunny. Trump was an optimist—at least about himself. He was charming and full of flattery; he focused on you. He was funny—self-deprecating even. And incredibly energetic—Let’s do it whatever it is, let’s do it. He wasn’t a tough guy. He was “a big warm-hearted monkey,”
你說他沒有自知之明？錯，他對自己了解的比任何評論家都深，把底褲都翻過來給你看：在和模特鬼混的時候，“What is this ‘white trash’?” asked the model. “They’re people just like me,” said Trump, “only they’re poor.”——這句話，不知道為他帶來了多少的中低收入白人群體的票！
Trump—however foolish his sucking-up might have been, and however suspicious it might look in hindsight—just wanted a little respect. “The president fundamentally wants to be liked” was Katie Walsh’s analysis. “He just fundamentally needs to be liked so badly that it’s always . . . everything is a struggle for him.” This translated into a constant need to win something—anything. Equally important, it was essential that he look like a winner.
Trump’s longtime friend Roger Ailes liked to say that if you wanted a career in television, first run for president. ... He would come out of this campaign, Trump assured Ailes, with a far more powerful brand and untold opportunities. “This is bigger than I ever dreamed of,” he told Ailes in a conversation a week before the election. “I don’t think about losing because it isn’t losing. We’ve totally won.” What’s more, he was already laying down his public response to losing the election: It was stolen!
The Trump calculation, quite a conscious one, was different. The candidate and his top lieutenants believed they could get all the benefits of almost becoming president without having to change their behavior or their fundamental worldview one whit: we don’t have to be anything but who and what we are, because of course we won’t win.
It was in fact the sort of carelessness that almost everyone in Trump’s world, including the president and his family, was guilty of. They lived with parallel realities in which, while proceeding with a presidential campaign, they also had to live in a vastly more likely world—rather a certain world—in which Donald Trump would never be president. Hence, business as usual.
Shortly after eight o’clock that evening, when the unexpected trend—Trump might actually win—seemed confirmed, Don Jr. told a friend that his father, or DJT, as he called him, looked as if he had seen a ghost. Melania, to whom Donald Trump had made his solemn guarantee, was in tears—and not of joy.
There was, in the space of little more than an hour, in Steve Bannon’s not unamused observation, a befuddled Trump morphing into a disbelieving Trump and then into a quite horrified Trump. But still to come was the final transformation: suddenly, Donald Trump became a man who believed that he deserved to be and was wholly capable of being the president of the United States.
The less likely a presidential candidate is, the more unlikely, and, often, inexperienced, his aides are—that is, an unlikely candidate can attract only unlikely aides, as the likely ones go to the more likely candidates.
Donald Trump had little, if any, awareness of the history of or the thinking about this role. Instead, he substituted his own management style and experience. For decades, he had relied on longtime retainers, cronies, and family. Even though Trump liked to portray his business as an empire, it was actually a discrete holding company and boutique enterprise, catering more to his peculiarities as proprietor and brand representative than to any bottom line or other performance measures.
人氣最高的“First Lady”女兒Ivanka人設簡直完美，不知道還能撐多久。作為川普的生意夥伴，選舉也好，白宮也好，都是為了“川普”這個品牌和商業帝國——都說了國王的新衣續集， 哪有什麼遮醜布，這醜嗎？你想太多了，吃不到葡萄的狐狸們！
Father and daughter got along almost peculiarly well. She was the real mini-Trump (a title that many people now seemed to aspire to). She accepted him. She was a helper not just in his business dealings, but in his marital realignments. She facilitated entrances and exits. If you have a douchebag dad, and if everyone is open about it, then maybe it becomes fun and life a romantic comedy—sort of. And yet, the larger truth was that Ivanka’s relationship with her father was in no way a conventional family relationship. If it wasn’t pure opportunism, it was certainly transactional. It was business. Building the brand, the presidential campaign, and now the White House—it was all business.
自詡為把川普推上寶座的“忠臣”班農，為了貫徹執行“川普主義”（實際是班農主義），一直在和女兒女婿Jvanka（Jared and Ivanka）爭奪川普的“注意力”，因為川普的決定並不在於他自己怎麼想，而是接觸的最後一個人怎麼講和當時他剛好怎麼想！
The subtleties here were immense, because while he was often most influenced by the last person he spoke to, he did not actually listen to anyone. So it was not so much the force of an individual argument or petition that moved him, but rather more just someone’s presence, the connection of what was going through his mind—and although he was a person of many obsessions, much of what was on his mind had no fixed view—to whomever he was with and their views.
By the second week of the Trump presidency, everybody in the White House seemed to be maintaining their own list of likely leakers and doing their best to leak before being leaked about. But another likely leak source about his angst in the White House was Trump himself. In his calls throughout the day and at night from his bed, he frequently spoke to people who had no reason to keep his confidences. He was a river of grievances—including about what a dump the White House was on close inspection—examples of which many recipients of his calls promptly spread throughout the ever attentive and merciless gossip world. By the end of the first month in the White House, Bannon and Kushner had each built a network of primary outlets, as well as secondary ones to deflect from the obviousness of the primary ones, creating a White House that simultaneously displayed extreme animosity toward the press and yet great willingness to leak to it. In this, at least, Trump’s administration was achieving a landmark transparency.
The information he did not get was formal information. The data. The details. The options. The analysis. He didn’t do PowerPoint. For anything that smacked of a classroom or of being lectured to—“professor” was one of his bad words, and he was proud of never going to class, never buying a textbook, never taking a note—he got up and left the room. Trump didn’t read. He didn’t really even skim. If it was print, it might as well not exist. Some believed that for all practical purposes he was no more than semiliterate. (There was some argument about this, because he could read headlines and articles about himself, or at least headlines on articles about himself, and the gossip squibs on the New York Post’s Page Six.) Some thought him dyslexic; certainly his comprehension was limited. Others concluded that he didn’t read because he just didn’t have to, and that in fact this was one of his key attributes as a populist. He was postliterate—total television. But not only didn’t he read, he didn’t listen. He preferred to be the person talking. And he trusted his own expertise—no matter how paltry or irrelevant—more than anyone else’s. What’s more, he had an extremely short attention span, even when he thought you were worthy of attention.
Process was their enemy. But just doing it—the hell with how—and doing it immediately, could be a powerful countermeasure. Just doing things became a Bannon principle, the sweeping antidote to bureaucratic and establishment ennui and resistance. It was the chaos of just doing things that actually got things done.
Why do anything, if you don’t have to? Or, why would you do something that doesn’t actually get you anything? Since taking office, the president had been developing an intuitive national security view: keep as many despots who might otherwise screw you as happy as possible.
He had no patience with the our-hands-are-tied ennui of the post-cold war order, that sense of the chess board locked in place, of incremental movement being the best-case scenario—the alternative being only war. His was a much simpler view: Who’s got the power? Give me his number. And, just as basically: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. If Trump had one fixed point of reference in the Middle East, it was—mostly courtesy of Michael Flynn’s tutoring—that Iran was the bad guy. Hence everybody opposed to Iran was a pretty good guy.
In Bannon’s view:
(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.
Still, here was the basic faith, overriding his impetuousness and eccentricities and limited knowledge base: nobody became the president of the United States—that camel-through-the-eye-of-the-needle accomplishment—without unique astuteness and cunning. Right? In the early days of the White House, this was the fundamental hypothesis of the senior staff, shared by Walsh and everyone else: Trump must know what he was doing, his intuition must be profound.
Pushing this line of reasoning just a little further: senior staff believed the president had a problem with reality, and reality was now overwhelming him. If true, this notion directly contravened the basic premise of the support for Trump among his staff. In some sense, not too closely questioned, they believed he had almost magical powers. Since his success was not explainable, he must have talents beyond what they could fathom. His instincts. Or his salesman’s gifts. Or his energy. Or just the fact that he was the opposite of what he was supposed to be. This was out-of-the-ordinary politics—shock-to-the-system politics—but it could work.
Everyone, in his or her own way, struggled to express the baldly obvious fact that the president did not know enough, did not know what he didn’t know, did not particularly care, and, to boot, was confident if not serene in his unquestioned certitudes. There was now a fair amount of back-of-the-classroom giggling about who had called Trump what. For Steve Mnuchin and Reince Priebus, he was an “idiot.” For Gary Cohn, he was “dumb as shit.” For H. R. McMaster he was a “dope.” The list went on.
He had somehow won the race for president, but his brain seemed incapable of performing what would be essential tasks in his new job. He had no ability to plan and organize and pay attention and switch focus; he had never been able to tailor his behavior to what the goals at hand reasonably required. On the most basic level, he simply could not link cause and effect.
川普的Fire and Fury，到最後，可是燒在你我屁股底下，大家且行且珍惜吧！