Reporters are the addicts stealing money from their mom’s purse for a hit of their drug. It is an exotic one called Trump. Yesterday, as the nation came together to honor President Bush, reporters were fixated on President Trump. They were fixated on his reactions during the funeral, the responses of others to him, and even how he took a limo to Blair House, oblivious to the fact Barack Obama had once done the same thing.
With reporters desperate for a fix of Trump, history is all new. Things long done are treated as new events. They obsess over Trump. Stories not about Trump are turned into Trump. The Trump angle must be explored and exploited.
There are tons of stories out there that are not about Trump that must be turned into stories about Trump. There are stories where Trump is only tangentially related that suddenly revolve around Trump. He lives rent free in the heads of the national press corps.
Yes, he is President of the United States. But not everything is about Trump. He only has to overshadow everything if the press makes him. They do just that. They do it for clicks. They do it for ratings. They do it because they exist in a sick co-dependent symbiotic relationship with the President and in the sick BDSM arrangement, Trump is the master. They are the slaves.
They need a twelve step program, but I fear the fix is too strong. And like meth addicts, even their faces are changing as they pick at their skin and more permanently scowl. This is unhealthy.