I honestly think we need to resurrect Don Rickles from the dead and run him in the GOP Primary.
Somebody Needs to ‘Bug’ Donald Trump
Lessons in the art of the insult from my high-school buddies.
By Joseph Epstein
June 8, 2023 6:18 pm ET
The question of who will take on Donald Trump in debates looms. Not that Mr. Trump is a brilliant debater; rather that he doesn’t mind insulting his opponents. In 2016 he commented on Ted Cruz’s wife, Chris Christie’s weight and Marco Rubio’s height. Lately he’s mocked Ron DeSantis as “DeSanctimonious” and Asa Hutchinson as “Ada.”
What I find curious is that Mr. Trump is so eminently insultable, and yet none of his opponents have stepped forward to do so. His hairdo, his skin color, his weight, his history with women, his ignorance of history and culture—he is attackable on these and more fronts. Some Republican candidates for president have claimed they don’t wish to descend to his level of insult; others may feel not adept at invective. This time they might not have a choice.
At Nicholas Senn High School on Chicago’s far northside, which I attended in the early 1950s, personal attack was a speciality. At least it was among the cadre of Jewish boys who hung out at a lunch shop called Harry’s. Each of us was a Don Rickles in the making. We called what we did “bugging.”
Any physical flaw was open to bugging. A boy with a large nose named Bob Cole became “José Nosay.” Billy Greengoss, who was slightly overweight, became “The Swine.” Lloyd Stein, in a basketball game against a rival school, shot an air ball while at the free-throw line and became “Willy Lump Lump.” A boy whose last name was Pool became—of course—“Cess.” Parents were fair game. A friend came by one evening and found my mother in a housecoat with a leopard pattern. She became forever after, in a bug against me, “Tiger Lady.”
I don’t believe Mr. Trump would have done well at Harry’s. Let us begin with his preposterous hairdo. I can easily hear one of the boyos saying, “You know, Donny, with the money you spend on hair dye and spray, we could easily clear the national debt.” As for his tan, I hear him being asked how long he has to keep his head in orange juice to achieve that color. His weight would be taken into account by suggesting he wear another of those long red ties on the back of his neck to cover up his ample caboose. On his less than subtle knowledge of the Constitution, he might be asked if he really interprets the Second Amendment, the right to bear arms, as the right to wear short-sleeve shirts. About his escapades with women, don’t ask. This is a family newspaper.
Mr. Christie has said one reason he’s jumping into the race is to lay into Mr. Trump. I hope he does so, and that others join him. I don’t really see that they have any choice, for Mr. Trump is sure to come after them.
Some might argue that to meet him insult for insult would be to lower the tone of our national political life, divesting it of such dignity as it has traditionally had. But Mr. Trump has already done that over the past eight years. Meanwhile, how pleasant it would be to hear one of his Republican rivals, after being insulted by Mr. Trump, return: “Ah, bugging are we, Donald? About your hair . . .”
Mr. Epstein is author, most recently, of “The Novel, Who Needs It?,” forthcoming in July.
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