As a guy who long has struggled to laugh, especially at himself, Trump flounders as his jokes fall flat before a room full of journalists, not MAGA faithful

Trump's barbs fall flat with journalists at WHCD (BBC)

If you scour social media or check recent approval ratings, you are likely to get the idea that millions of Americans would like to see Donald Trump get a new job -- any job, other than the one he has now.

Unfortunately, we received evidence over the weekend that Trump likely won't be trading in his presidential gig for a spot on the comedy-club circuit anytime soon. That's because we learned from his  performance last Friday as featured speaker at the White House Correspondents Dinner (WHCD) that  Trump doesn't know any jokes -- other than those who reside on his hand-picked and uniquely inept cabinet. It also seems that, even if someone writes down a rib-tickler of the highest quality for him, Trump can't tell a joke to save his make-up shrouded skin. 

That is because it has been widely reported that he has a limited, almost nonexistent, sense of humor -- mainly because of an inability to laugh at himself. Mary Trump, Donald's niece who is a best-selling author and political analyst, with a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, probably knows the president's fragile and damaged psyche better than anyone. In a May 2024 article at HuffPost, Mary talked about the incident that probably created Donald's inability to laugh:

Mary Trump said her uncle Donald Trump’s inability to laugh at himself is a “dangerous” trait that can be traced back to at least a humiliating incident in his childhood, which she called the former president’s “origin story.”

On TikTok, the presumptive GOP presidential nominee’s niece recalled the time her father, Fred, dumped a bowl of mashed potatoes onto his younger brother Donald’s head to stop him from tormenting their even younger brother Robert.

Donald stopped acting out and Robert stopped crying, she said. But then everyone started laughing at Donald and he “probably felt humiliated for the first time in his life,” she continued. 

The incident was frequently brought up at family gatherings and “every single time, even six decades after the event itself occurred, Donald reacted exactly the same way,” said Mary Trump, who is one of her relative’s biggest critics.

“While everybody was laughing about it, he crossed his arms. And he pouted and he sulked until somebody changed the subject,” she said.

Mary Trump also explained the significance of an incident that long ago entered family lore:

“I think it says something about Donald that even as a little kid, he was incapable of having a sense of humor about himself, which is really not great,” she said.

“Kids need to have that kind of resilience that he never had,” she added. “But worse, at seven decades later, he still does not have the ability to laugh at himself, which I think is a dangerous thing.” 

Perhaps that is why Trump's attempts at humor during the WHCD were met mostly with a combination of quiet titters and silence. In a jointly published article at CNN and Yahoo! News, Brian Stelter provides an up-close look at the proceedings under the headline "Trump bombed at the White House Correspondents Dinner -- and proved its point." Stelter writes:

President Donald Trump bombed at the White House Correspondents' Dinner Friday night. He knew he was bombing, too, and he even tried to meta-joke his way out of it.

But no. Even the president's jokes about his bad jokes fell flat, and he was widely ridiculed for the comedy routine afterward. 

Members of the media mocking a leader's dismal performance on live TV and all across the internet? In some other countries, that's a criminal offense. But in the US, it's the norm, so maybe Trump's speech unwittingly underscored the theme of the dinner: America's robust First Amendment protections.  

In a rambling hour-long speech, Trump insulted journalists by name, repurposed old nicknames for political opponents, made a strange number of fat jokes that weren't funny at all, and sounded mad at his unnamed writers for giving him weak material to work with. "Does anyone understand this stuff?" he said at one point, and the answer was generally no.

It was bad enough that Trump's timing was poor, his material was shaky and (at times) inappropriate -- even for a glorified roast. But worst of all, the president's schtick was just plain dull, as Stelter explains:

Some of Trump's remarks were "vicious," as press secretary Karoline Leavitt promised. But more than anything, the speech was just… boring.

And boring is one thing Trump never, ever wants to be. He claimed to be singlehandedly keeping the news business afloat, commenting, "When I'm gone, you're all going to be broke."

"Nobody gives a damn about anybody else," he said, and proceeded to count how many stories on The New York Times front page are about him.

That sounds like the malignant narcissist that resides in Trump was rearing its ugly head.  It could not be pleasant for the assembled journalists to get an unobstructed view of a president at perhaps his most dysfunctional and dangerous. Stelter writes:

Attendees were mostly silent while Trump delivered lines better suited to a MAGA rally than a black-tie dinner.

Trump's low energy led more than one TV executive to muse that the president had stumbled upon a new technique against the media: Tank the ratings with a snoozefest.

Some attendees said they were surprised that Trump didn't bring more original material, given how highly anticipated the dinner was, in part because his attendance ended his years-long boycott of the White House Correspondents' Association's annual fundraiser.

Friday's dinner was a smaller-scale redo of the April 26 affair that was postponed after a gunman tried to rush into the ballroom of the Washington Hilton hotel.

The do-over dinner was held across town at the Waldorf Astoria, a building Trump once operated as his namesake DC hotel — and an unofficial clubhouse for his first administration.

 As a president who fancies himself an expert on all things related to construction, design, and renovation, it was no surprise that Trump became obsessed with the lighting in Friday night's surroundings:

"See those beautiful chandeliers? I can tell you everything about them," he threatened.

Trump did strike some notes of unity, praising the Secret Service and denouncing political violence. "In this country, we believe in freedom of speech," he said. "We settle our differences not with bullets, but with open and vigorous debate. And no deranged loser with a gun will ever change that."

Then he joked about dinnergoers wearing bulletproof vests under their fancy outfits, "which many people didn't want to wear because they'd rather die than look 20 pounds heavier."

That last bit was genuinely funny. It had just a hint of meanness to it, but it hit on a subject -- the fear of being seen as overweight -- to which many people can relate. If Trump has a wheelhouse for humor -- perhaps one he didn't know he had -- that joke was in it. 

The WHCD seemed to spotlight this truth about our 47th president: Trump struggles to live with the media, but he can't live without it, as Stelter writes:

Trump's remarks showed how he understands the power of the press — and that he gets angry when he can't control it. He singled out several CNN journalists by name.

In response, CNN CEO Mark Thompson said in a statement, "We stand by our journalists and the integrity and fairmindedness with which the CNN team reports the news. Honest, accurate journalism may sometimes irritate politicians, but our right to report and present that reporting to the public without government interference is fully protected by the US Constitution. CNN will continue to exercise this right."

Trump also gave shoutouts to media executives whom he views as allies, namely Larry and David Ellison, who took control of Paramount last year and are now trying to buy Warner Bros. Discovery, CNN's parent company. Paramount suffered a major setback earlier on Friday when it agreed to accept a months-long delay to the merger while legal challenges are resolved.

Invoking the fact that Paramount owns CBS News, Trump said David Ellison is "going to make, I think, fantastic changes and keep some of the great stuff going." 

Trump also made a convoluted joke about the controversial changes implemented by Ellison's handpicked editor-in-chief of CBS News, Bari Weiss: "Under my administration, a once-feared and powerful regime that relentlessly attacked America has finally been toppled. Their former leaders have been removed, and they're now being run by a gay dictator facing internal divisions. But I, for one, wish Bari Weiss all the best at CBS News. She's a wonderful woman." 

Ultimately, Trump could not resist bringing his own peculiar brand of politics into the evening:

Toward the end of the speech, the president donned a red "Trump 2028" hat. His choice of attire seemed like a deliberate troll, given the outrage that erupts every time he talks about a constitutionally barred third term. He also said that he was only kidding about running again. Earlier in the evening, during a lengthy digression about his White House ballroom addition, he remarked that "I'm only going to be using it for about six months" before leaving office, a rare acknowledgment that his term has an expiration date.

At times, Trump seemed to be losing his audience, and that probably is because the speaker and the environment did not mesh. Trump is at his best speaking before a group of MAGA loyalists, in a campaign-style, off-the-cuff way -- tossing out red meat like a zookeeper feeding the lions, not worrying about whether his words are accurate or make sense. It's just a matter of pushing the emotional buttons of people who already support him. Trying to entertain and enlighten journalists is a much more nuanced task, one for which Trump is poorly suited. Stelter writes:

The more resentful and recycled Trump's speech got, the more attendees seemed to tune it out.

CNN's Betsy Klein, who was in the room, said many people were on their phones or talking amongst themselves. Others were eating macarons from the dessert trays, using the bathroom or mingling in the lobby.

"The person at the table next to me has just poured himself a comically large glass of wine," she observed nearly an hour in.

CNN's Kristen Holmes said a Republican source of hers in the room said to her, "Whoever wrote this speech should be fired."

But a few of the jabs will surely travel well on right-wing social media platforms, and Daniel Dale predicted that "the silence in the room will be portrayed by the president's allies as evidence he roasted the 'fake news' so bad they were stunned into submission."