Thursday, March 01, 2018
Goodbye Hope. Welcome Home, Mooch.
During a recent appearance on Bill Maher's Real Time show, Anthony "the Mooch" Scaramucci was pretty obviously angling to get back into the White House. Now Trump is short one communications director, once the Mooch's very short-lived job. The Guardian's Richard Wolffe raises the prospect that the Mooch might just be poised to become Donald Trump's fifth and seventh comms director in just over a year in office.
Hell, somebody has to take the cursed job.
Ah yes, those plural phases of transition. There was that Jason guy who was supposed to get the job, but didn’t because his mistress embarrassed him.
Then there was Sean Spicer, who lied about the inauguration crowd size and never recovered from his SNL spoof.
Then there was Sean’s friend Mike, who didn’t want to sell his stake in his communications firms.
Then there was Sean again, who was still getting spoofed by Melissa McCarthy. Then there was Anthony “The Mooch” Scaramucci, whose life-span was shorter than a frickin’ firefly.
And then there was Hope. Six comms chiefs – soon to be seven – in just 13 months of a presidency. There are Italian prime ministers who would be embarrassed by such a short time in office.
“Her exact departure is to be determined but it will be sometime in the next few weeks,” the White House added.
Seriously Mr President: if this is the best your beloved communications director can do, you might want to ask your favorite Russian troll factory for help. Artful, it is not.
Of course, it might not be easy to find a replacement for the Worst. Job. Ever.
How exactly do you direct communications around a man who live-tweets what he sees on Fox News, when he’s not tweeting about how DISGRACEFUL his attorney general is?
How do you explain away the words of a man who builds his campaign around toadying to the National Rifle Association and then urges members of Congress to stand up to the NRA?
How do you allow your boss to go to a prayer breakfast after news has broken about him paying a rather large sum of cash to an actress who starred in morally dubious movies?
How do you testify under oath about the press statement you helped draft about the president’s son meeting with Russians to get their stolen dirt about Hillary Clinton?
How do you protect the president’s son-in-law when he’s so desperate for cash that he’s reportedly getting played by foreign officials, when he’s not getting played by companies lending millions to his family business?
There is only one person who can live with this unique combination of corruption, deception, flip-flops and brain farts. There is only one person who can polish the proverbial turd into something shiny enough to feature on a prime-time show at Fox News.
Maybe he can get a little graphic about male genitalia. Maybe his ambition is fueled by a container full of amphetamines. But nobody gets Trump quite like him.
It’s time to abandon Hope. It’s time for the return of The Mooch.