Mr. And Mr. Negative: my latest

Long, long ago, in the prehistoric times before the Internet, I was a reporter at a fine Postmedia paper, the Calgary Herald. I’d work there on weekends during law school, to keep myself in Kraft Dinner.

One of my jobs was listening to the police scanner.  Whenever there was a big car crash on some local roadway, I’d head out, occasionally with a photographer in tow. When merited, I’d write a few paragraphs about the crash, and the photographer would take some pictures.

Later on, people would inevitably call in to say we are ghouls and grave robbers and that they were sick of our negativity. They’d say they were cancelling their subscription (we checked, they never did).

But here’s the thing I’d observe when out at the scene of every car crash: everyone – and I mean everyone – would slow down to take a look. Sometimes, Grandma would even totter out of her car to snap a photo on her Kodak Instamatic.

That’s the thing about negative stuff: people say they don’t like it, but they’re fibbing. They pay attention to it, they remember it, they are motivated by it. Negative stuff sells. Every politico and reporter knows that. If it bleeds, it leads, etc.

Watching the bromance of Donald Trump and Elon Musk implode on social media this week, I was reminded of this collective fondness for nastiness. The entire world, pretty much, was glued to their devices, watching for the next instalment in the Donald and Elon Show. For many of us, it was better than the playoffs (go Oilers).

Trump threatened to cancel Musk’s government contracts. Musk agreed that Trump should be impeached. Trump suggested Musk was mentally ill. Musk said Trump was in the Epstein file. And so on and so on.

Trump’s White House staffers frantically convened meetings to figure out ways to get the boys to step away from the downward cycle of mutually-assured social media destruction. They knew that billions of people – leaders of nations included – were observing the spectacle. It was bad for business, they told media, anonymously. It needed to stop.

Predictably, Republican politicians became highly adverse to microphones pointed their way. My favourite riposte came from Senator John Kennedy (definitely no relation): “I have a rule, I never get between a dog and a fire hydrant.” (It is unknown if any reporters asked who was the dog, and who was the fire hydrant, in Kennedy’s top-rung use of metaphor.)

The commentariat was tut-tutting about it all, however. “Pathetic,” said The Guardian. “A broligarchy blowup of the highest order,” said The New York Times.  “Broooos please noooooo. We love you both so much,” said Kanye West, a Hitler fan and former celebrity.

Personally, I don’t think it hurts either guy, at all. Why? Because it’s on-brand for both.

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