|Photo: Russell Lee, FSA/Library of Congress|
Zero, as in none, zip, une-gatz, nil. The hell of the last week has been, and will be going forward, all the outlets who for reasons small and smaller find the need to fluff the Trump candidacy as possible, Mrs. Clinton as stumbling, and the election as anything resembling close. There are many, many factors standing in the way of that loudmouth's ascension to the OO: from demographic to structural to financial to organizational, but I would like to meditate upon another: fatigue, or disappointment.
As the contest skips merrily on to the conventions and the fall campaign it seems likely to yr. obt. hmbl. svt. that a certain percentage of DT supporters, say up to five, will grow less enthusiastic about his antics which we might safely assume will remain on the same aggravating wavelength for the duration. Without variety or letup, what's entertaining at 8pm can be very tiresome by midnight; and though true believers will cling to Donnie as to their guns and senseless dreams of future success, I don't see a lot more people climbing aboard the crazy train, and a statistically significant percentage debarking at stations down the line.
I'll add before ending that the same fatigue dynamic may now be at work at the campaign of that elderly, frog-voiced scold, who seems to have lost a couple percentage points to the despise-ed one in the last week. As the shadows lengthen on Bernie's day in the sun, the cranky statements from his staff, and threats of violence in Philadelphia now from his rather more enraged supporters, can only have a dampening effect on many people otherwise sympathetic to his goals, if not exactly on board with his candidacy. He had the chance to prove his point, that his campaign would invigorate new waves of citizens to come vote for the first time for profound social and political change. That didn't happen, and now he's trying to, what, save the Democratic Party from itself? Screw'im.