Mayor Elect Zohran Mamdani and NYC

Go Beavers

Excellent analysis.  

josevolution

Yeah spot on it’s the 1st time I’ve heard being broken down like that 

Halifax2TheMax

 * The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

I can’t believe MAGA hasn’t tired of his schtick. That post of Mr. Lux’s fully encapsulated it. It’s old, it’s tired and most importantly, it’s not solving problems. I guess I’ll look forward to the boat and rolling coal truck parades in 2026, 2028 and beyond.

mickeyrat

brianlux

Halifax2TheMax said:

 * The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

I can’t believe MAGA hasn’t tired of his schtick. That post of Mr. Lux’s fully encapsulated it. It’s old, it’s tired and most importantly, it’s not solving problems. I guess I’ll look forward to the boat and rolling coal truck parades in 2026, 2028 and beyond.

I suspect there are many MAGA who have tired of the Orange Man Schtick than will admit.  At least I would think so.  And it's a little hard to imagine anyone is still fooled by his foolishness... but damn- and sorry to be so blunt- but there really are some very stupid people out there.  

mickeyrat

Halifax2TheMax

 * The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

Wait, what? I thought we were told that unfettered capitalism raised more people out of poverty than any other system? Back on page two of this thread there was an awful lot of proclamations regarding this. Now I’m really confused. Guess I’ll have to ask AI? And double fuck the poors, eh?

China has brought millions out of poverty. The US has not – by choice

Eduardo Porter

Despite the US’s economic success, income inequality remains breathtaking. But this is no glitch – it’s the system

The Chinese did rather well in the age of globalization. In 1990, 943 million people there lived on less than $3 a day measured in 2021 dollars – 83% of the population, according to the World Bank. By 2019, the number was brought down to zero. Unfortunately, the United States was not as successful. More than 4 million Americans – 1.25% of the population – must make ends meet with less than $3 a day, more than three times as many as 35 years ago.

The data is not super consistent with the narrative of the US’s inexorable success. Sure, American productivity has zoomed ahead of that of its European peers. Only a handful of countries manage to produce more stuff per hour of work. And artificial intelligence now promises to put the United States that much further ahead.

But this story ignores how the US chooses to spend its riches. It seems reasonable that the success of a society and its system of government, the morality of its political compromises and agreements, would be determined to an important degree by how it chooses to deploy the fruits of its accomplishments and how it apportions the costs of its failures. Unlike China, the US did not offer much to the people eking out a living around the poverty line. Per head, the US’s economic output is six times China’s, and yet, inexplicably, there seem to be more abjectly poor Americans than Chinese.

The story of US inequality is known by now. It is nonetheless breathtaking how its lopsided distribution of income keeps getting worse. In 1980, the income of Americans in the middle of the income distribution added up to a bit more than 52.5% of the income of those perched at the top 90th percentile. At the turn of the century, it was 48%. By 2023, it had slipped further, to 42.5%.

The poor’s share of the US economic pie is shrinking to developing-world levels. The income of Americans in the top 90th percentile of wealth grew more than twice as fast between 2000 and 2023 as that of Americans in the bottom 10th percentile. These days, Americans in the poorest 10th of the population draw about 1.8% of the nation’s income, about the same as poor Bolivians. In Nigeria, they reap 3%, in China 3.1%, in Bangladesh 3.7%.

It would be comfortable to blame market forces. They have played a critical role in shaping the US’s distribution of success. Globalization and technology have not only contributed to reduce the share of national income that is spent on labor. They have also exacerbated inequalities among the working class, rewarding the most educated workers while replacing the less skilled with robots.

And yet, a summary glance at the Trump administration’s main initiatives – the president’s Big Beautiful Bill Act and his indiscriminate tariffs, which will raise the price of many staples and produce a drag on business spending and employment – underscores how the US’s dismal performance at sharing the fruits of its success with the less well-to-do in its society is not some bug in American capitalism. It is a feature.

The legislation will take health coverage from millions of people and dramatically raise healthcare costs for millions more through massive cuts to Medicaid and the health insurance subsidies under the Affordable Care Act. It will trim hundreds of billions from the Snap nutrition assistance program for the poor. Altogether, the latest estimate by the Budget Lab at Yale finds that the impact of Trump’s tariffs and his big, beautiful bill will trim household income for all except the richest fifth of American families. The bottom 10% would suffer a 7% cut.

Sure, America’s indifference towards its poor did not appear suddenly during the Trump administration. It’s been a feature of Democratic and Republican governments over the last 50 years, letting appeals to market efficiency trump calls to address the US’s growing inequalities. Since Jimmy Carter left office, the income of the rich has grown more than that of the poor in every administration except that of Bill Clinton and, yep, Donald Trump’s first, when subsidies to respond to the Covid pandemic raised incomes across the poorer half of the population.

What’s telling is that despite Trump’s claims to represent the common American worker trodden upon by indifferent economic forces, he is out to exacerbate the ills of American capitalism. The millions of angry Maga followers applauding Trump’s swipes at an unfair global order will eventually come to find that the rhetoric may have changed, but the US is not about to change the way it shares its riches.

This is not to congratulate China for its authoritarian government, for its repression of minorities or for the iron fist it deploys against any form of dissent. But it merits pondering how this undemocratic government could successfully slash its poverty rate when the richest and oldest democracy in the world wouldn’t.

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/nov/23/china-us-poverty-income-inequality

josevolution

Halifax2TheMax said:

 * The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

Wait, what? I thought we were told that unfettered capitalism raised more people out of poverty than any other system? Back on page two of this thread there was an awful lot of proclamations regarding this. Now I’m really confused. Guess I’ll have to ask AI? And double fuck the poors, eh?

China has brought millions out of poverty. The US has not – by choice

Eduardo Porter

Despite the US’s economic success, income inequality remains breathtaking. But this is no glitch – it’s the system

The Chinese did rather well in the age of globalization. In 1990, 943 million people there lived on less than $3 a day measured in 2021 dollars – 83% of the population, according to the World Bank. By 2019, the number was brought down to zero. Unfortunately, the United States was not as successful. More than 4 million Americans – 1.25% of the population – must make ends meet with less than $3 a day, more than three times as many as 35 years ago.

The data is not super consistent with the narrative of the US’s inexorable success. Sure, American productivity has zoomed ahead of that of its European peers. Only a handful of countries manage to produce more stuff per hour of work. And artificial intelligence now promises to put the United States that much further ahead.

But this story ignores how the US chooses to spend its riches. It seems reasonable that the success of a society and its system of government, the morality of its political compromises and agreements, would be determined to an important degree by how it chooses to deploy the fruits of its accomplishments and how it apportions the costs of its failures. Unlike China, the US did not offer much to the people eking out a living around the poverty line. Per head, the US’s economic output is six times China’s, and yet, inexplicably, there seem to be more abjectly poor Americans than Chinese.

The story of US inequality is known by now. It is nonetheless breathtaking how its lopsided distribution of income keeps getting worse. In 1980, the income of Americans in the middle of the income distribution added up to a bit more than 52.5% of the income of those perched at the top 90th percentile. At the turn of the century, it was 48%. By 2023, it had slipped further, to 42.5%.

The poor’s share of the US economic pie is shrinking to developing-world levels. The income of Americans in the top 90th percentile of wealth grew more than twice as fast between 2000 and 2023 as that of Americans in the bottom 10th percentile. These days, Americans in the poorest 10th of the population draw about 1.8% of the nation’s income, about the same as poor Bolivians. In Nigeria, they reap 3%, in China 3.1%, in Bangladesh 3.7%.

It would be comfortable to blame market forces. They have played a critical role in shaping the US’s distribution of success. Globalization and technology have not only contributed to reduce the share of national income that is spent on labor. They have also exacerbated inequalities among the working class, rewarding the most educated workers while replacing the less skilled with robots.

And yet, a summary glance at the Trump administration’s main initiatives – the president’s Big Beautiful Bill Act and his indiscriminate tariffs, which will raise the price of many staples and produce a drag on business spending and employment – underscores how the US’s dismal performance at sharing the fruits of its success with the less well-to-do in its society is not some bug in American capitalism. It is a feature.

The legislation will take health coverage from millions of people and dramatically raise healthcare costs for millions more through massive cuts to Medicaid and the health insurance subsidies under the Affordable Care Act. It will trim hundreds of billions from the Snap nutrition assistance program for the poor. Altogether, the latest estimate by the Budget Lab at Yale finds that the impact of Trump’s tariffs and his big, beautiful bill will trim household income for all except the richest fifth of American families. The bottom 10% would suffer a 7% cut.

Sure, America’s indifference towards its poor did not appear suddenly during the Trump administration. It’s been a feature of Democratic and Republican governments over the last 50 years, letting appeals to market efficiency trump calls to address the US’s growing inequalities. Since Jimmy Carter left office, the income of the rich has grown more than that of the poor in every administration except that of Bill Clinton and, yep, Donald Trump’s first, when subsidies to respond to the Covid pandemic raised incomes across the poorer half of the population.

What’s telling is that despite Trump’s claims to represent the common American worker trodden upon by indifferent economic forces, he is out to exacerbate the ills of American capitalism. The millions of angry Maga followers applauding Trump’s swipes at an unfair global order will eventually come to find that the rhetoric may have changed, but the US is not about to change the way it shares its riches.

This is not to congratulate China for its authoritarian government, for its repression of minorities or for the iron fist it deploys against any form of dissent. But it merits pondering how this undemocratic government could successfully slash its poverty rate when the richest and oldest democracy in the world wouldn’t.

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/nov/23/china-us-poverty-income-inequality

So it’s not just about stopping the Starbucks cravings? 

Millennials have reached the age where their parents and grandparents were probably homeowners. But because the typical millennial has met with economic upheaval for much of their working life, they’ve been on a slower timeline.

https://wapo.st/4oh5811

https://share.google/BmTGrrDJi9NsaiTAi

HughFreakingDillon

brianlux said:

But anyway, this... this is sane thinking. This is a clear and accurate rundown written by Bruce Fanger of what went down in that meeting:

Thirty Minutes in the Lion’s Den: The Interview Trump Thought He Controlled

White Rose USA — November

There’s a strange thing that happens when you watch the full thirty-minute interview instead of the clipped version the internet tosses around. The edges soften. The masks slip. And you start to see the actual geometry of the interaction — where power sits, where insecurity leaks, where the tone changes, where the truth speaks by accident. The viral clip makes it look like a moment. The full meeting reveals a dynamic.

This wasn’t a showdown. It wasn’t a humiliation. It wasn’t a triumph for either man. It was something far more revealing: a case study in how a bully behaves when he can’t rely on fear, and how a principled politician behaves when he refuses the role of the victim.

The meeting begins as all Trump meetings do — with noise.

The first five minutes are pure Trump: monologues disguised as greetings, numbers inflated beyond physics, scattered recollections of the 1980s like the era froze and preserved him in amber. You can practically hear his brain flipping through its greatest hits, trying to set the tone: This is my room. My chair. My story.

But Mamdani doesn’t react to any of it.

And that is the first hinge of the meeting.

A man like Trump needs emotional feedback to function. Fear works. Flattery works. Even anger works. Mamdani gives him nothing. He sits there with the calm of someone who refuses to let the other person set the emotional tempo. It’s a small thing, but with Trump, it’s enough to break the cycle.

Then comes the shift — the “gracious Trump” phase.

People mistake this for maturity or diplomacy. It’s not. It’s a reflex Trump only deploys when he can’t dominate the room. The tone goes soft, the eyebrows lift, the compliments come out in forced, syrupy bursts.

“You’re doing great work.”

“New York is lucky to have you.”

“You’re a very smart guy.”

It sounds statesmanlike until you remember the same man called him a communist threat two weeks earlier. What’s happening here isn’t respect — it’s adaptation. A chameleon trying to match the color of the wall.

Trump is gracious when graciousness benefits Trump.

As Mamdani shifts to policy, Trump drifts into autobiography.

This is the most telling stretch — minutes twelve to eighteen. Mamdani tries to talk like a mayor-elect:

transit

housing

Rikers

federal cooperation

immigrant protections

Real issues, real stakes, real governance.

Trump responds by vanishing into his own mythology. Crime statistics from memory that don’t exist. Grievances about prosecutors. Stories from “the old days.” Complaints about how unfairly he’s been treated.

It’s not sabotage — it’s incapacity.

Mamdani is speaking a civic language Trump’s brain can’t decode.

They aren’t having the same conversation.

They aren’t even on the same continent.

Then comes the moment everyone’s dissecting — the “fascistic tendencies” line.

And yes, it happened in the room, not after. Mamdani doesn’t weaponize the word. He doesn’t turn it into a headline. He does something more dangerous: he analytically names the pattern.

Immigrant raids.

Political retribution.

Targeting dissent.

Erosion of checks and balances.

Threats against the judiciary.

He lays out the evidence and names the behavior: fascistic tendencies.

Trump nods and smiles like someone being told he has an excellent golf swing.

It’s not bravado. It’s not denial.

It’s something almost sadder: he doesn’t understand the language of critique unless it’s blunt and emotional. Mamdani moved the discussion into the realm of political analysis, and Trump’s instincts don’t live there. So he simply… accepts it. Not because he agrees, but because he can’t absorb what the words actually mean.

The last ten minutes are the clearest portrait of Trump’s psyche.

Once Mamdani refuses to bend, Trump compensates by overcorrecting into flattery:

“You’re going to surprise people.”

“I feel very comfortable with you.”

“We’re going to get along great.”

It’s dominance disguised as benevolence. When Trump can’t conquer, he tries to adopt. He folds the other person into his narrative: You and I are the same. We’re allies. You approve of me. I approve of you.

It’s a kind of political camouflage — digest the threat by complimenting it.

Mamdani doesn’t take the bait.

He doesn’t fight.

He doesn’t flatter.

He just continues speaking plainly.

Which leaves Trump in the one position he hates most:

performing civility for an audience that isn’t fooled.

What the meeting really showed

The full interview isn’t about Mamdani calling Trump a fascist.

It’s not about Trump pretending to be gracious.

It’s not about a progressive mayor meeting an authoritarian president.

What the meeting showed is simpler and more damning:

Trump is only powerful when the room fears him.

Take the fear away, and he becomes oddly gentle, strangely polite, and completely unable to dominate the conversation.

People think tyrants rage because they’re strong.

But the truth is they only rage when they know the room will absorb it.

Mamdani didn’t absorb it.

So Trump didn’t rage.

He folded.

Nicely. Neatly.

Like a man who knows the cameras are watching and doesn’t want the world to see what he looks like when the mask cracks.

And if there’s a lesson here for the rest of the country, it’s this:

Fear is the oxygen of authoritarianism.

Take it away, and even a strongman starts to sound like a man.

Thanks for posting that. I read it on facebook a few days ago and was going to post it then fscebook did that annoying auto-refresh thing and I lost it. 😂 

i feel like this isn’t unique; I’ve noticed this same thing with other leaders he meets with that don’t give him the oxygen he requires to command the room. Insults you on twitter, meets with you abd praises you on person a week or two later. 

He’s so incredibly weak. 

brianlux

HughFreakingDillon said:

brianlux said:

But anyway, this... this is sane thinking. This is a clear and accurate rundown written by Bruce Fanger of what went down in that meeting:

Thirty Minutes in the Lion’s Den: The Interview Trump Thought He Controlled

White Rose USA — November

There’s a strange thing that happens when you watch the full thirty-minute interview instead of the clipped version the internet tosses around. The edges soften. The masks slip. And you start to see the actual geometry of the interaction — where power sits, where insecurity leaks, where the tone changes, where the truth speaks by accident. The viral clip makes it look like a moment. The full meeting reveals a dynamic.

This wasn’t a showdown. It wasn’t a humiliation. It wasn’t a triumph for either man. It was something far more revealing: a case study in how a bully behaves when he can’t rely on fear, and how a principled politician behaves when he refuses the role of the victim.

The meeting begins as all Trump meetings do — with noise.

The first five minutes are pure Trump: monologues disguised as greetings, numbers inflated beyond physics, scattered recollections of the 1980s like the era froze and preserved him in amber. You can practically hear his brain flipping through its greatest hits, trying to set the tone: This is my room. My chair. My story.

But Mamdani doesn’t react to any of it.

And that is the first hinge of the meeting.

A man like Trump needs emotional feedback to function. Fear works. Flattery works. Even anger works. Mamdani gives him nothing. He sits there with the calm of someone who refuses to let the other person set the emotional tempo. It’s a small thing, but with Trump, it’s enough to break the cycle.

Then comes the shift — the “gracious Trump” phase.

People mistake this for maturity or diplomacy. It’s not. It’s a reflex Trump only deploys when he can’t dominate the room. The tone goes soft, the eyebrows lift, the compliments come out in forced, syrupy bursts.

“You’re doing great work.”

“New York is lucky to have you.”

“You’re a very smart guy.”

It sounds statesmanlike until you remember the same man called him a communist threat two weeks earlier. What’s happening here isn’t respect — it’s adaptation. A chameleon trying to match the color of the wall.

Trump is gracious when graciousness benefits Trump.

As Mamdani shifts to policy, Trump drifts into autobiography.

This is the most telling stretch — minutes twelve to eighteen. Mamdani tries to talk like a mayor-elect:

transit

housing

Rikers

federal cooperation

immigrant protections

Real issues, real stakes, real governance.

Trump responds by vanishing into his own mythology. Crime statistics from memory that don’t exist. Grievances about prosecutors. Stories from “the old days.” Complaints about how unfairly he’s been treated.

It’s not sabotage — it’s incapacity.

Mamdani is speaking a civic language Trump’s brain can’t decode.

They aren’t having the same conversation.

They aren’t even on the same continent.

Then comes the moment everyone’s dissecting — the “fascistic tendencies” line.

And yes, it happened in the room, not after. Mamdani doesn’t weaponize the word. He doesn’t turn it into a headline. He does something more dangerous: he analytically names the pattern.

Immigrant raids.

Political retribution.

Targeting dissent.

Erosion of checks and balances.

Threats against the judiciary.

He lays out the evidence and names the behavior: fascistic tendencies.

Trump nods and smiles like someone being told he has an excellent golf swing.

It’s not bravado. It’s not denial.

It’s something almost sadder: he doesn’t understand the language of critique unless it’s blunt and emotional. Mamdani moved the discussion into the realm of political analysis, and Trump’s instincts don’t live there. So he simply… accepts it. Not because he agrees, but because he can’t absorb what the words actually mean.

The last ten minutes are the clearest portrait of Trump’s psyche.

Once Mamdani refuses to bend, Trump compensates by overcorrecting into flattery:

“You’re going to surprise people.”

“I feel very comfortable with you.”

“We’re going to get along great.”

It’s dominance disguised as benevolence. When Trump can’t conquer, he tries to adopt. He folds the other person into his narrative: You and I are the same. We’re allies. You approve of me. I approve of you.

It’s a kind of political camouflage — digest the threat by complimenting it.

Mamdani doesn’t take the bait.

He doesn’t fight.

He doesn’t flatter.

He just continues speaking plainly.

Which leaves Trump in the one position he hates most:

performing civility for an audience that isn’t fooled.

What the meeting really showed

The full interview isn’t about Mamdani calling Trump a fascist.

It’s not about Trump pretending to be gracious.

It’s not about a progressive mayor meeting an authoritarian president.

What the meeting showed is simpler and more damning:

Trump is only powerful when the room fears him.

Take the fear away, and he becomes oddly gentle, strangely polite, and completely unable to dominate the conversation.

People think tyrants rage because they’re strong.

But the truth is they only rage when they know the room will absorb it.

Mamdani didn’t absorb it.

So Trump didn’t rage.

He folded.

Nicely. Neatly.

Like a man who knows the cameras are watching and doesn’t want the world to see what he looks like when the mask cracks.

And if there’s a lesson here for the rest of the country, it’s this:

Fear is the oxygen of authoritarianism.

Take it away, and even a strongman starts to sound like a man.

Thanks for posting that. I read it on facebook a few days ago and was going to post it then fscebook did that annoying auto-refresh thing and I lost it. 😂 

i feel like this isn’t unique; I’ve noticed this same thing with other leaders he meets with that don’t give him the oxygen he requires to command the room. Insults you on twitter, meets with you abd praises you on person a week or two later. 

He’s so incredibly weak. 

"He’s so incredibly weak. "  Exactly, and he proves that more and more each day. 

Just imagine the lowest rung legacy he will leave in his wake.  History will judge him harshly!  

Halifax2TheMax

* The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

I heard that The Bus Driver is going to introduce Arabic numerals in all NYC public schools. If so, look out Jersey and the Nutmeg State.

HughFreakingDillon

Halifax2TheMax said:

* The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

I heard that The Bus Driver is going to introduce Arabic numerals in all NYC public schools. If so, look out Jersey and the Nutmeg State.

😂 I read that. And the uneducated get whipped into a frenzy, not realizing what they were just trapped by. 

Lerxst1992

brianlux said:

But anyway, this... this is sane thinking. This is a clear and accurate rundown written by Bruce Fanger of what went down in that meeting:

Thirty Minutes in the Lion’s Den: The Interview Trump Thought He Controlled

White Rose USA — November

There’s a strange thing that happens when you watch the full thirty-minute interview instead of the clipped version the internet tosses around. The edges soften. The masks slip. And you start to see the actual geometry of the interaction — where power sits, where insecurity leaks, where the tone changes, where the truth speaks by accident. The viral clip makes it look like a moment. The full meeting reveals a dynamic.

This wasn’t a showdown. It wasn’t a humiliation. It wasn’t a triumph for either man. It was something far more revealing: a case study in how a bully behaves when he can’t rely on fear, and how a principled politician behaves when he refuses the role of the victim.

The meeting begins as all Trump meetings do — with noise.

The first five minutes are pure Trump: monologues disguised as greetings, numbers inflated beyond physics, scattered recollections of the 1980s like the era froze and preserved him in amber. You can practically hear his brain flipping through its greatest hits, trying to set the tone: This is my room. My chair. My story.

But Mamdani doesn’t react to any of it.

And that is the first hinge of the meeting.

A man like Trump needs emotional feedback to function. Fear works. Flattery works. Even anger works. Mamdani gives him nothing. He sits there with the calm of someone who refuses to let the other person set the emotional tempo. It’s a small thing, but with Trump, it’s enough to break the cycle.

Then comes the shift — the “gracious Trump” phase.

People mistake this for maturity or diplomacy. It’s not. It’s a reflex Trump only deploys when he can’t dominate the room. The tone goes soft, the eyebrows lift, the compliments come out in forced, syrupy bursts.

“You’re doing great work.”

“New York is lucky to have you.”

“You’re a very smart guy.”

It sounds statesmanlike until you remember the same man called him a communist threat two weeks earlier. What’s happening here isn’t respect — it’s adaptation. A chameleon trying to match the color of the wall.

Trump is gracious when graciousness benefits Trump.

As Mamdani shifts to policy, Trump drifts into autobiography.

This is the most telling stretch — minutes twelve to eighteen. Mamdani tries to talk like a mayor-elect:

transit

housing

Rikers

federal cooperation

immigrant protections

Real issues, real stakes, real governance.

Trump responds by vanishing into his own mythology. Crime statistics from memory that don’t exist. Grievances about prosecutors. Stories from “the old days.” Complaints about how unfairly he’s been treated.

It’s not sabotage — it’s incapacity.

Mamdani is speaking a civic language Trump’s brain can’t decode.

They aren’t having the same conversation.

They aren’t even on the same continent.

Then comes the moment everyone’s dissecting — the “fascistic tendencies” line.

And yes, it happened in the room, not after. Mamdani doesn’t weaponize the word. He doesn’t turn it into a headline. He does something more dangerous: he analytically names the pattern.

Immigrant raids.

Political retribution.

Targeting dissent.

Erosion of checks and balances.

Threats against the judiciary.

He lays out the evidence and names the behavior: fascistic tendencies.

Trump nods and smiles like someone being told he has an excellent golf swing.

It’s not bravado. It’s not denial.

It’s something almost sadder: he doesn’t understand the language of critique unless it’s blunt and emotional. Mamdani moved the discussion into the realm of political analysis, and Trump’s instincts don’t live there. So he simply… accepts it. Not because he agrees, but because he can’t absorb what the words actually mean.

The last ten minutes are the clearest portrait of Trump’s psyche.

Once Mamdani refuses to bend, Trump compensates by overcorrecting into flattery:

“You’re going to surprise people.”

“I feel very comfortable with you.”

“We’re going to get along great.”

It’s dominance disguised as benevolence. When Trump can’t conquer, he tries to adopt. He folds the other person into his narrative: You and I are the same. We’re allies. You approve of me. I approve of you.

It’s a kind of political camouflage — digest the threat by complimenting it.

Mamdani doesn’t take the bait.

He doesn’t fight.

He doesn’t flatter.

He just continues speaking plainly.

Which leaves Trump in the one position he hates most:

performing civility for an audience that isn’t fooled.

What the meeting really showed

The full interview isn’t about Mamdani calling Trump a fascist.

It’s not about Trump pretending to be gracious.

It’s not about a progressive mayor meeting an authoritarian president.

What the meeting showed is simpler and more damning:

Trump is only powerful when the room fears him.

Take the fear away, and he becomes oddly gentle, strangely polite, and completely unable to dominate the conversation.

People think tyrants rage because they’re strong.

But the truth is they only rage when they know the room will absorb it.

Mamdani didn’t absorb it.

So Trump didn’t rage.

He folded.

Nicely. Neatly.

Like a man who knows the cameras are watching and doesn’t want the world to see what he looks like when the mask cracks.

And if there’s a lesson here for the rest of the country, it’s this:

Fear is the oxygen of authoritarianism.

Take it away, and even a strongman starts to sound like a man.

Mamdani figured out what every other highly visible democrat refuses to believe, just kiss the damn ring. He is only potus for three more years, kiss the ring, fight for your policies over his, and let the three year clock run out.

brianlux

Halifax2TheMax said:

* The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

I heard that The Bus Driver is going to introduce Arabic numerals in all NYC public schools. If so, look out Jersey and the Nutmeg State.

HughFreakingDillon said:

Halifax2TheMax said:

* The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

I heard that The Bus Driver is going to introduce Arabic numerals in all NYC public schools. If so, look out Jersey and the Nutmeg State.

😂 I read that. And the uneducated get whipped into a frenzy, not realizing what they were just trapped by. 

Too funny!  😂

brianlux

Perhaps Trump will insist we go back to Roman numerals.  

    

gimmesometruth27

brianlux said:

Perhaps Trump will insist we go back to Roman numerals.  

    

too many ms and xs. he will say it is too malcom x for his liking. 

brianlux

gimmesometruth27 said:

brianlux said:

Perhaps Trump will insist we go back to Roman numerals.  

    

too many ms and xs. he will say it is too malcom x for his liking. 

Haha!  Yep! 😂

Halifax2TheMax

gimmesometruth27 said:

brianlux said:

Perhaps Trump will insist we go back to Roman numerals.  

    

too many ms and xs. he will say it is too malcom x for his liking. 

 * The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

Anyone think that CCOOTWH has seen Do The Right Thing? Mamamamamalcolm?

Go Beavers

Lerxst1992 said:

brianlux said:

But anyway, this... this is sane thinking. This is a clear and accurate rundown written by Bruce Fanger of what went down in that meeting:

Thirty Minutes in the Lion’s Den: The Interview Trump Thought He Controlled

White Rose USA — November

There’s a strange thing that happens when you watch the full thirty-minute interview instead of the clipped version the internet tosses around. The edges soften. The masks slip. And you start to see the actual geometry of the interaction — where power sits, where insecurity leaks, where the tone changes, where the truth speaks by accident. The viral clip makes it look like a moment. The full meeting reveals a dynamic.

This wasn’t a showdown. It wasn’t a humiliation. It wasn’t a triumph for either man. It was something far more revealing: a case study in how a bully behaves when he can’t rely on fear, and how a principled politician behaves when he refuses the role of the victim.

The meeting begins as all Trump meetings do — with noise.

The first five minutes are pure Trump: monologues disguised as greetings, numbers inflated beyond physics, scattered recollections of the 1980s like the era froze and preserved him in amber. You can practically hear his brain flipping through its greatest hits, trying to set the tone: This is my room. My chair. My story.

But Mamdani doesn’t react to any of it.

And that is the first hinge of the meeting.

A man like Trump needs emotional feedback to function. Fear works. Flattery works. Even anger works. Mamdani gives him nothing. He sits there with the calm of someone who refuses to let the other person set the emotional tempo. It’s a small thing, but with Trump, it’s enough to break the cycle.

Then comes the shift — the “gracious Trump” phase.

People mistake this for maturity or diplomacy. It’s not. It’s a reflex Trump only deploys when he can’t dominate the room. The tone goes soft, the eyebrows lift, the compliments come out in forced, syrupy bursts.

“You’re doing great work.”

“New York is lucky to have you.”

“You’re a very smart guy.”

It sounds statesmanlike until you remember the same man called him a communist threat two weeks earlier. What’s happening here isn’t respect — it’s adaptation. A chameleon trying to match the color of the wall.

Trump is gracious when graciousness benefits Trump.

As Mamdani shifts to policy, Trump drifts into autobiography.

This is the most telling stretch — minutes twelve to eighteen. Mamdani tries to talk like a mayor-elect:

transit

housing

Rikers

federal cooperation

immigrant protections

Real issues, real stakes, real governance.

Trump responds by vanishing into his own mythology. Crime statistics from memory that don’t exist. Grievances about prosecutors. Stories from “the old days.” Complaints about how unfairly he’s been treated.

It’s not sabotage — it’s incapacity.

Mamdani is speaking a civic language Trump’s brain can’t decode.

They aren’t having the same conversation.

They aren’t even on the same continent.

Then comes the moment everyone’s dissecting — the “fascistic tendencies” line.

And yes, it happened in the room, not after. Mamdani doesn’t weaponize the word. He doesn’t turn it into a headline. He does something more dangerous: he analytically names the pattern.

Immigrant raids.

Political retribution.

Targeting dissent.

Erosion of checks and balances.

Threats against the judiciary.

He lays out the evidence and names the behavior: fascistic tendencies.

Trump nods and smiles like someone being told he has an excellent golf swing.

It’s not bravado. It’s not denial.

It’s something almost sadder: he doesn’t understand the language of critique unless it’s blunt and emotional. Mamdani moved the discussion into the realm of political analysis, and Trump’s instincts don’t live there. So he simply… accepts it. Not because he agrees, but because he can’t absorb what the words actually mean.

The last ten minutes are the clearest portrait of Trump’s psyche.

Once Mamdani refuses to bend, Trump compensates by overcorrecting into flattery:

“You’re going to surprise people.”

“I feel very comfortable with you.”

“We’re going to get along great.”

It’s dominance disguised as benevolence. When Trump can’t conquer, he tries to adopt. He folds the other person into his narrative: You and I are the same. We’re allies. You approve of me. I approve of you.

It’s a kind of political camouflage — digest the threat by complimenting it.

Mamdani doesn’t take the bait.

He doesn’t fight.

He doesn’t flatter.

He just continues speaking plainly.

Which leaves Trump in the one position he hates most:

performing civility for an audience that isn’t fooled.

What the meeting really showed

The full interview isn’t about Mamdani calling Trump a fascist.

It’s not about Trump pretending to be gracious.

It’s not about a progressive mayor meeting an authoritarian president.

What the meeting showed is simpler and more damning:

Trump is only powerful when the room fears him.

Take the fear away, and he becomes oddly gentle, strangely polite, and completely unable to dominate the conversation.

People think tyrants rage because they’re strong.

But the truth is they only rage when they know the room will absorb it.

Mamdani didn’t absorb it.

So Trump didn’t rage.

He folded.

Nicely. Neatly.

Like a man who knows the cameras are watching and doesn’t want the world to see what he looks like when the mask cracks.

And if there’s a lesson here for the rest of the country, it’s this:

Fear is the oxygen of authoritarianism.

Take it away, and even a strongman starts to sound like a man.

Mamdani figured out what every other highly visible democrat refuses to believe, just kiss the damn ring. He is only potus for three more years, kiss the ring, fight for your policies over his, and let the three year clock run out.

That’s not kissing the ring. That’s called how to play an ineffective, insecure leader with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. 

Halifax2TheMax

Go Beavers said:

Lerxst1992 said:

brianlux said:

But anyway, this... this is sane thinking. This is a clear and accurate rundown written by Bruce Fanger of what went down in that meeting:

Thirty Minutes in the Lion’s Den: The Interview Trump Thought He Controlled

White Rose USA — November

There’s a strange thing that happens when you watch the full thirty-minute interview instead of the clipped version the internet tosses around. The edges soften. The masks slip. And you start to see the actual geometry of the interaction — where power sits, where insecurity leaks, where the tone changes, where the truth speaks by accident. The viral clip makes it look like a moment. The full meeting reveals a dynamic.

This wasn’t a showdown. It wasn’t a humiliation. It wasn’t a triumph for either man. It was something far more revealing: a case study in how a bully behaves when he can’t rely on fear, and how a principled politician behaves when he refuses the role of the victim.

The meeting begins as all Trump meetings do — with noise.

The first five minutes are pure Trump: monologues disguised as greetings, numbers inflated beyond physics, scattered recollections of the 1980s like the era froze and preserved him in amber. You can practically hear his brain flipping through its greatest hits, trying to set the tone: This is my room. My chair. My story.

But Mamdani doesn’t react to any of it.

And that is the first hinge of the meeting.

A man like Trump needs emotional feedback to function. Fear works. Flattery works. Even anger works. Mamdani gives him nothing. He sits there with the calm of someone who refuses to let the other person set the emotional tempo. It’s a small thing, but with Trump, it’s enough to break the cycle.

Then comes the shift — the “gracious Trump” phase.

People mistake this for maturity or diplomacy. It’s not. It’s a reflex Trump only deploys when he can’t dominate the room. The tone goes soft, the eyebrows lift, the compliments come out in forced, syrupy bursts.

“You’re doing great work.”

“New York is lucky to have you.”

“You’re a very smart guy.”

It sounds statesmanlike until you remember the same man called him a communist threat two weeks earlier. What’s happening here isn’t respect — it’s adaptation. A chameleon trying to match the color of the wall.

Trump is gracious when graciousness benefits Trump.

As Mamdani shifts to policy, Trump drifts into autobiography.

This is the most telling stretch — minutes twelve to eighteen. Mamdani tries to talk like a mayor-elect:

transit

housing

Rikers

federal cooperation

immigrant protections

Real issues, real stakes, real governance.

Trump responds by vanishing into his own mythology. Crime statistics from memory that don’t exist. Grievances about prosecutors. Stories from “the old days.” Complaints about how unfairly he’s been treated.

It’s not sabotage — it’s incapacity.

Mamdani is speaking a civic language Trump’s brain can’t decode.

They aren’t having the same conversation.

They aren’t even on the same continent.

Then comes the moment everyone’s dissecting — the “fascistic tendencies” line.

And yes, it happened in the room, not after. Mamdani doesn’t weaponize the word. He doesn’t turn it into a headline. He does something more dangerous: he analytically names the pattern.

Immigrant raids.

Political retribution.

Targeting dissent.

Erosion of checks and balances.

Threats against the judiciary.

He lays out the evidence and names the behavior: fascistic tendencies.

Trump nods and smiles like someone being told he has an excellent golf swing.

It’s not bravado. It’s not denial.

It’s something almost sadder: he doesn’t understand the language of critique unless it’s blunt and emotional. Mamdani moved the discussion into the realm of political analysis, and Trump’s instincts don’t live there. So he simply… accepts it. Not because he agrees, but because he can’t absorb what the words actually mean.

The last ten minutes are the clearest portrait of Trump’s psyche.

Once Mamdani refuses to bend, Trump compensates by overcorrecting into flattery:

“You’re going to surprise people.”

“I feel very comfortable with you.”

“We’re going to get along great.”

It’s dominance disguised as benevolence. When Trump can’t conquer, he tries to adopt. He folds the other person into his narrative: You and I are the same. We’re allies. You approve of me. I approve of you.

It’s a kind of political camouflage — digest the threat by complimenting it.

Mamdani doesn’t take the bait.

He doesn’t fight.

He doesn’t flatter.

He just continues speaking plainly.

Which leaves Trump in the one position he hates most:

performing civility for an audience that isn’t fooled.

What the meeting really showed

The full interview isn’t about Mamdani calling Trump a fascist.

It’s not about Trump pretending to be gracious.

It’s not about a progressive mayor meeting an authoritarian president.

What the meeting showed is simpler and more damning:

Trump is only powerful when the room fears him.

Take the fear away, and he becomes oddly gentle, strangely polite, and completely unable to dominate the conversation.

People think tyrants rage because they’re strong.

But the truth is they only rage when they know the room will absorb it.

Mamdani didn’t absorb it.

So Trump didn’t rage.

He folded.

Nicely. Neatly.

Like a man who knows the cameras are watching and doesn’t want the world to see what he looks like when the mask cracks.

And if there’s a lesson here for the rest of the country, it’s this:

Fear is the oxygen of authoritarianism.

Take it away, and even a strongman starts to sound like a man.

Mamdani figured out what every other highly visible democrat refuses to believe, just kiss the damn ring. He is only potus for three more years, kiss the ring, fight for your policies over his, and let the three year clock run out.

That’s not kissing the ring. That’s called how to play an ineffective, insecure leader with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. 

* The following opinion is mine and mine alone and does not represent the views of my family, friends, government and/or my past, present or future employer. US Department of State: 1-888-407-4747.

Calling a fascist a fascist and then confirming it at the behest of said fascist in the Oval before the press and then again on the Sunday political show circuit is now considered “kissing the ring”. Amazing and quite remarkable, isn’t it?