Another insightful stimulating article. Thank you. When Jerry Falwell was getting started connecting his religion to political power, many American evangelicals and the religious minded in general worried that they and their worship would be corrupted by this connection. Turns out they were correct in their concerns.
Nevertheless, though many evangelicals may "confuse" Trump with a second coming, that doesn't seem even the half of it. As I listened to Iowans who did not reference scripture but were drawn to Trump and seemed otherwise sensible and solid, my puzzlement deepened at Trump's increasing hold on his midwestern salt-of-the-earth base. The Christ comparisons and explanations did not quite hit the mark with the folks I watched, especially as their support grew with each indictment, though perhaps the prodigal son returning works.
Then yesterday morning a music algorithm out of the blue played a Woody Guthrie dust bowl song about Pretty Boy Floyd - the myth, of course, not the "reality," and it struck home. Bonnie & Clyde, The Grapes of Wrath; The Rainmaker. The other bandit heroes and heroines and bunko artists of that Depression era and most every era where hope outruns reality. The myth of the bandit savior. Take the myth of Charles A. (Pretty Boy) Floyd, an apple cheeked mid-western American.
In the song and myth, he's a desperate man on the run from unjust lawmen for a justified crime. A criminal, perhaps, but one who stood up for the neglected & forgotten, who paid off farmers' mortgages with his stolen money and by burning down banks and the mortgage papers inside; who begged a night's rest of farmers and left $100 bills under his pillow in the morning. That myth appeals even to me, if you somehow could graft it on to a billionaire NY'er, which his base has somehow done.
Watch Trump's campaign talks and don't critique them like a politician or news anchor but see them as entertaining tent shows set up in farmer's fields rife with snake oil salesmen and revivalists like Billy Sunday (a top baseball player like Falwell) or Aimee Semple McPherson or Jim and Tammy Faye Baker. Also the Rainmakers of those desperate drought ridden days. Anyway, that's three myths ever popular in the midwest/rural lore just waiting for hard times and the right person to attach them to.
Here's a Youtube link to the Woody Guthrie song which is more compelling than my above hypothesis. I understand most would not trust clicking on it, but the song is easily found by googling Guthrie & Pretty Boy Floyd
Fascinating folklore tie-in -- you've added a lot of color to the Le Creuset Dutch oven here! The Midwestern perspective is interesting and often overlooked. The Woody Guthrie song you linked to is plaintive, fatalistic and speaks to the inevitable, a forlorn quality. Thank you for your touching insights, Pete!
Another insightful stimulating article. Thank you. When Jerry Falwell was getting started connecting his religion to political power, many American evangelicals and the religious minded in general worried that they and their worship would be corrupted by this connection. Turns out they were correct in their concerns.
Nevertheless, though many evangelicals may "confuse" Trump with a second coming, that doesn't seem even the half of it. As I listened to Iowans who did not reference scripture but were drawn to Trump and seemed otherwise sensible and solid, my puzzlement deepened at Trump's increasing hold on his midwestern salt-of-the-earth base. The Christ comparisons and explanations did not quite hit the mark with the folks I watched, especially as their support grew with each indictment, though perhaps the prodigal son returning works.
Then yesterday morning a music algorithm out of the blue played a Woody Guthrie dust bowl song about Pretty Boy Floyd - the myth, of course, not the "reality," and it struck home. Bonnie & Clyde, The Grapes of Wrath; The Rainmaker. The other bandit heroes and heroines and bunko artists of that Depression era and most every era where hope outruns reality. The myth of the bandit savior. Take the myth of Charles A. (Pretty Boy) Floyd, an apple cheeked mid-western American.
In the song and myth, he's a desperate man on the run from unjust lawmen for a justified crime. A criminal, perhaps, but one who stood up for the neglected & forgotten, who paid off farmers' mortgages with his stolen money and by burning down banks and the mortgage papers inside; who begged a night's rest of farmers and left $100 bills under his pillow in the morning. That myth appeals even to me, if you somehow could graft it on to a billionaire NY'er, which his base has somehow done.
Watch Trump's campaign talks and don't critique them like a politician or news anchor but see them as entertaining tent shows set up in farmer's fields rife with snake oil salesmen and revivalists like Billy Sunday (a top baseball player like Falwell) or Aimee Semple McPherson or Jim and Tammy Faye Baker. Also the Rainmakers of those desperate drought ridden days. Anyway, that's three myths ever popular in the midwest/rural lore just waiting for hard times and the right person to attach them to.
Here's a Youtube link to the Woody Guthrie song which is more compelling than my above hypothesis. I understand most would not trust clicking on it, but the song is easily found by googling Guthrie & Pretty Boy Floyd
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H53yLW7aTSE
Thanks again for stirring the pot and setting the table.
Fascinating folklore tie-in -- you've added a lot of color to the Le Creuset Dutch oven here! The Midwestern perspective is interesting and often overlooked. The Woody Guthrie song you linked to is plaintive, fatalistic and speaks to the inevitable, a forlorn quality. Thank you for your touching insights, Pete!