It is the best of France. It is the worst of France. That is, it is “French.” In no person is this embodied more perfectly than in the body that goes by the name Marine Le-Pen. Ms. Le-Pen, in the tradition of most French politicians, has the ability to be haughty on the one hand while being devilishly base on the other. Or in the words of once-a-week British-American comedian John Oliver, “It’s particularly challenging for [us] to watch because, well, we’ve seen this show before — and it isn’t pretty.”
It seems safe to assume Mr. fancy-pants Oliver was referring to the recently elected president of these less-than-united states when calling Le-Pen, “How do you say in French? A demagogic asshole. A monstrous, demagogic asshole.”
While he wasn’t necessarily playing his Trump card, he was certainly having his way with it. Something Le-Pen knows all about. She does, after all, attempt to play to the worst instincts of humankind. Her success in doing so is less a testament to her political savvy than it is to her coarseness.
C’mon France. While my knowledge of your culture is mostly limited to Tom Hanks and Audrey Tautou in “Da Vinci Code,” [yes, I had to look Audrey up, bless her soul.] Le-Pen seems to be a hair-on-fire dragoness. If you please, discard her with utmost haste.