Pity the scriptwriters on the House of Cards payroll, wracking their brains to what must be a frazzle as they try to come up with a set of developments even stranger than real life.
So the president and his chief of staff both commit murder? Big deal. Shocking, yes, but somehow lacking the grotesque, over-the-top, this-just-can’t-be happening gasp-worthy frisson of total astonishment that we’ve come to expect from the news.
Try this: A super-ambitious aspiring feminist sprite marries a rising young politician, seals a pact with him in which they both attain power, and steers him to the top through a minefield of bimbo eruptions. Then, just when the stars seem aligned in her favor, she shoots herself in both feet with a set of Nixonian blunders that would amaze Nixon himself.
But the party that’s running against her–the fabled preserve of boring old white men who fight to seem lifelike—is suddenly mugged by a truculent troll who barely speaks English, belches out insults with merry abandon, transports himself in a flying palace with gold-plated faucets, and has had not one but three trophy wives.
Yes, pity the writers of House of Cards, whose fourth season will likely languish as viewers stay glued to Fox News and CSPAN for the unfolding, mind-blowing double-track drama they find that they can’t do without.
And pity the parties, who just a few months ago could each see a plausible road to success. Democrats saw themselves set with a superbly credentialed former first lady, waving the flag of the glass-ceiling smasher, blessed with a plethora of funds and endorsements, and nary a foe in her way. Now, she’s under investigation, losing in match-ups with many Republicans, considered a liar by most of her countrymen, and undergoing a series of resets that fail to take hold. No one knows where the investigations are going, what strange new surprises are waiting to happen, or where they can go, should the worst happen, to find a Plan B. The tension-free glide planned for Hillary Clinton looks more like a slide off a precipice.
The party of the young and diverse has a bench of white males from their mid to late 70’s, some of them (Al Gore and John Kerry) already losers. Perhaps Gary Hart is eyeing a comeback. (Jerry Brown, now 77, seems to be waiting his turn.)
The Republicans, thanks to landslide elections in the midterms of 2010 and 2014, have been bragging for years that come 2016 they would have best bench in ages, a group of young, diverse, and talented holders of office in years. All true—but in the event all have been swamped by the storm known as Donald, that has deprived them of funds, air, and air time, and left them struggling for notice and breath.
The two runners-up are a brain surgeon and corporate whiz, looking for new things to do in retirement, and the old splits between the base and establishment have been eclipsed by the new split between Trump’s fans and detractors, which in both cases span all the wings of the party. Trump can be stopped, and he probably will be, but this will have to be managed with utmost discretion, and the cost could be high.
No writers could ever dream up the problems confronting both parties, caught in nightmares they cannot resolve and never imagined could happen. Is there an exit in sight for one of these parties? Or is this the election that no one can win?
Noemie Emery, a Washington Examiner columnist, is a contributing editor to The Weekly Standard and author of “Great Expectations: The Troubled Lives of Political Families.”
