It’s All in the Hair

How Trump’s coif is a symbol of his remarkable ability to disregard reality and substitute his own.

It’s the old chicken/egg conundrum.  Which came first, the doltish bravado or the hair?  Did his attitude arise as a response to his mane-misfortune?  Or did his hair commit a coup of some sort against its host as a form of punishment?  Each could be a logical extension of the other.  It’s as if the follicles are woven deep within his cerebral cortex and expand in tornado-like ways in response to his erratic and vacuous thoughts.  His multi-dimensional pompadour is the exact visual representation of his personality.  It’s stubborn and it’s ridiculous and yet wildly pompous (intended) at the same time.

Trump’s refusal to bend to his obvious baldness, opting instead to craft his remaining strands into a hybrid of horrific hair mistakes is a shockingly accurate microcosm of the man himself.  His inverted, comb-over/forward is himit’s exactly him.  Donald Trump doesn’t go bald, Donald Trump rejects the universe and its inevitability and he asserts his dominance upon it.  Donald Trump is, at the very least, partially bald, but in Donald Trump’s mind, Donald Trump isn’t bald at alland that’s all that really matters.  He does not waste his time on the constraints of this corporeal world, he exists in a golden bubble wherein-which everything he says, or does, or is, defines the totality of his being.  There is no such thing as truth in the golden bubble and there is no such thing as bald.

Trump is so formidably stubborn, he rejects his own reflection each morning.  “That’s like, one mirror’s opinion man.”  And even though he seems to be absolutely terrified of what he’d look like bald, he hasn’t opted to go the hair-plug route—which actually makes total sense given his character.  To get hair plugs would mean admitting defeat, admitting that he was wrong, and that he actually couldn’t conquer baldness on his own with his dexterous comb and spray technique.  Trump does not apologize, he only doubles down, even in the face of overwhelming evidence.  The more bald he gets, the less likely he is to admit to his baldness.

But his hair not only represents his steadfast insubordination towards genetics, and his distorted self-perception, it also shows what a weak, thin-skinned person he is.  Trump covers up negativity in all corners of his life, not just on his scalp.  BuzzFeed wrote an unkind article, so he banned them from covering his campaign.  He then banned the Huffington Post, Univision, Politico and The Washington Post for the same reason.  For a presidential candidate to do this is unprecedented.  If you can’t take the heat of the media in your own country, how are you going to run said country?  Like many narcissists, Trump’s pontifical posturing extends from his insecurities.

Deep down the man is soft.

If he were strong he wouldn’t let this stuff get to him, he would be able to take ownership now and again, and he would -at least occasionally- apologize and admit that he is not an infallible deity.  He wouldn’t need to be so dialed up all the time; he would show some vulnerability without being terrified of the consequences and, above all else, he would embrace his baldness.

Donald Trump is afraid.

He’s afraid of his critics, so he silences them any way he can, and he’s afraid of his bald scalp, so he covers it in any way he can.

There is no way to separate the man from the hair: they are one singular, stubborn, American entity that embodies some of the worst aspects of our culture.

It’s all in the hair.

 

by Jesse Mechanic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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