The great leader, liberator of rude

As plot twists go, this one's right up there: the most popular political leaders today are stand-up comedians - minus the jokes. What remains is the punchline, delivered with the blunt force of a brick lobbed at a window. Rudeness, once the preserve of cranky uncles and snarky street-cornerwalas, has become the new cool, the lingua franca of power. And for so many people having to repress rudeness because of social constraints, this is so liberating.

The modern leader doesn't have to bother with policy nuance or rhetorical flourishes. Why waste time on arguments when sneering can make the masses swoon? The insult has become the applause line, the put-down the campaign promise. Crowds cheer not for visions of prosperity, but for the sheer audacity of someone saying out loud what polite society would normally whisper guiltily. It's there for all to see: leaders as hecklers, hecklers as leaders. The mic wielded to roast opponents to cinders. The audience, meanwhile, revels in the catharsis of cruelty, seeing unkindness for what they think it is: authenticity. And, so, politics morphs into a comedy club where the applause and hoots of support fly thick and fast at the expense of civility and triumph of the jeer. The leader as anti-comedian, whose only gag is that kindness is so passe, and who makes no-holds-barred rudeness feel like power.