Donald Trump’s Epic Neediness
I was and am transfixed by something else: the scope and intensity of his hunger for adulation. It’s bottomless, topless, endless, insatiable. He gazed upon a teeming arena of admirers and neither their presence nor their numbers was quite enough.
He ached for an extra exhibition of their ardor. He had to issue a command and revel in their obeisance.
.. But while his appeal may be layered, his drive isn’t. What set him in motion was a compulsion to see his face flickering across TV screens, his handle popping up in retweets, his minions arrayed before him. What eggs him on is the sound of his name uttered by pundits, rivals, crowds.
.. Everything about Trump’s campaign can be explained in terms of substance abuse: He’s addicted to attention, demanding regular fixes and going to ever greater lengths — in terms of reckless statements and provocative acts — to get them.
.. Imagine what that would mean for a Trump presidency. His agenda wouldn’t be conservative, moderate, liberal or for that matter coherent. It would be self-affirming and self-aggrandizing: whatever it takes to remain the focus of everyone’s gaze, the syllable tumbling from everyone’s lips. Trump, Trump, Trump.