It’s one of those words deeply subjective in nature. What qualifies as “hardcore” is completely dependent on individual perspective. It’s like “pornography.” Combined, the meaning gets even more elusive.
“Hardcore pornography is hard to define, but I know it when I see it.” – Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, 1964
Dictionary definitions are equally obtuse, reflecting intensity rather than intent with “hardcore” referenced as “unrelenting,” “uncompromising” or even ”extreme” without evaluation on merit.
All of the above is meant to qualify my personal take on what has passed through our lives as “hardcore” these recent days. I know it when I see it. Perhaps you do, too.
Comedian Michelle Wolf’s brilliantly bitter appearance before the White House Correspondents’ Dinner on April 28 was supremely hardcore, offering no quarter and taking no prisoners. Wolf, 32, graduated from the College of William & Mary in 2007 with a degree in kinesiology. I looked it up. Kinesiology is the scientific study of body movement dealing with strength. I’m certain both William and Mary would have strongly turned purple blushing at Wolf’s blistering 19-minute presentation, timidly ended halfway through on C-Span Radio due to fear of FCC retaliation – C-Span arguably displaying a discouraging profile in the process. Cable TV hung right in.
Receiving particular attention was presidential press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders (no relation to Bernie) sitting only a few feet away, hearing Wolf observe, “I actually really like Sarah. I think she’s very resourceful. She burns facts, and then she uses that ash to create a perfect smoky eye.” Due to the room’s strained acoustics, most folks thought they heard that Sarah “burns fat.” I did at home.
This brought subsequent accusations that Wolf made fun of Sarah’s weight, offering unintended verification of that fact about fat.
On a hardcore scale of 1 to 10, Michelle Wolf scored a perfect 10, faithfully mirroring the coarse, blunt, vulgar, vile and disgusting essence of Donald J. Trump and his entire administration.
The same night as the Correspondents’ Dinner, Trump appeared at another of his circus rallies, this one in Macomb County, Michigan – final frontier of white flight from Detroit. The clamoring crowd screamed to lock Hillary up. They would make Trump king – no matter what. The whole scene was frighteningly hardcore.
The very day Los Angeles Angels star Albert Pujois scored his 3,000th hit, the Washington Post offered irrefutable documentation that Trump has told 3,000 separate public lies since taking office. The count continues. That’s hellaciously hardcore.
Although he is now the subject of 11 separate federal investigations, Environmental Protection Agency Secretary Scott Pruitt remains on the job, raving evermore in that $43,000 soundproof office phone booth you paid for and grabbing a $100,000 Moroccan trip with two nights in Paris on a mission that had nothing to do with his assigned responsibilities. These and dozens of other inexcusable improprieties on Pruitt’s part are heavy hardcore.
A long-negotiated seven-nation pact signed in 2015 between Iran, China, Russia, the United Kingdom, France, Germany and the United States has temporarily halted Iran’s development of a nuclear bomb. The president has signaled his willingness to abandon the agreement, leaving the U.S. isolated and alone other than consistently surreptitious support from Jerusalem. Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing Israeli regime is aching for all-out war with Iran. Hardcore hysteria.
It saddens me to submit that our own California District Four congressman, Tom McClintock, has doubled, tripled and quadrupled down time and time again on his Trump love. How an educated, intelligent, sophisticated man such as Mr. McClintock can stoop so tragically low in craven support of a moral midget is beyond my understanding.