Kamala Harris is the star in the 2024 sequel of this 1979 classic movie.

I’ve found it fascinating that in both national polling as well as social media posts from actual friends of mine who are staunchly liberal, Kackles Harris (and Tampon Tim) enjoy a popularity that is incredibly puzzling to rational, thinking adults (aka conservatives), even though this pair has yet to say or post anything firm and substantial in policy but only to copycat Trump on the idea of eliminating taxes on tips.

As the lowest rated former presidential candidate as well as current vice president, how is her apparent popularity even possible? Rational thinking people would be appalled at these unelected people on any ticket for the predominant leadership role in world affairs, but they are not. The Democrats I know seem to be entirely happy with a choice they did not make.

I don’t believe it is entirely about “anyone but Trump,” because there is also Robert Kennedy Jr.; fully vetted and outspoken on his policy positions but not enjoying the same poll numbers as the lady whose brain functions only marginally better than the current occupant of the Oval Office (well, when he’s not on vacation, anyway).

Unless she reads from a teleprompter, Kackles makes no sense anytime she opens her mouth. Wait… I take that back... she would make sense to a kindergartner. But kindergartners don’t vote, so they hide her from unscripted public interaction that might influence her voting base.

In a discussion between Bret Baier and Brian Kilmeade this week, I heard Bret say that Kamela is intentionally remaining a “blank canvas,” trying to “figure out who she is.” I believe that is a great start, however, I believe she is instead portraying herself as a Rorschach Inkblot Test, where people see in her whatever they want to see because she has not made her positions clear but rather, in fact, has flip-flopped on almost everything. This strategy is interesting, because now any and all policy criticism can be rebutted simply because she hasn’t made her policies clear. Like her running away from being the “border czar,” she can’t be criticized for not fixing the problem.

This reminds me of the 1979 movie Being There starring Peter Sellers and Shirley MacLaine. In a sentence, it’s about an idiot (Chance) who stumbled into the right places at the right times, and ascended to great heights in world leadership not by true wisdom and true leadership, but by world leaders and a fawning public interpreting what they wanted to hear as perceived parables of a great mind, which were in fact nothing more than ramblings of a simple-minded gardener who can only talk about gardening and nothing else.

Sound familiar?

We are truly living in this prescient movie right now.

Roger Ebert presents an interesting analysis worthy of comparison to the woman who stumbled into the position of maybe becoming president.

Early in the film he introduces himself as "Chance... the gardener,'' and is misunderstood as having said "Chauncey Gardener.'' Just the sort of WASP name that matches his clothing and demeanor, and soon he is telling the President: "Spring, summer, autumn, winter... then spring again.''

Sound familiar?

According to Roger Ebert,

“It has the appeal of an ingenious intellectual game, in which the hero survives a series of challenges he doesn't understand, using words that are both universal and meaningless. But are Chance's sayings noticeably less useful than when the president tells us about a "bridge to the 21st century?'' Sensible public speech in our time is limited by (1) the need to stay within he confines of the 10-second TV sound bite; (2) the desire to avoid being pinned down to specific claims or promises; and (3) the abbreviated attention span of the audience, which, like Chance, likes to watch but always has a channel-changer poised.”

“If Chance's little slogans reveal how superficial public utterance can be, his reception reveals still more. Because he is WASP, middle-aged, well-groomed, dressed in tailored suits, and speaks like an educated man, he is automatically presumed to be a person of substance. He is, in fact, socially naive ("You're always going to be a little boy,'' Louise tells him). But this leads to a directness than can be mistaken for confidence, as when he addresses the president by his first name, or enfolds his hand in both of his own. The movie argues that if you look right, sound right, speak in platitudes and have powerful friends, you can go far in our society. By the end of the film, Chance is being seriously proposed as a presidential candidate. Well, why not?”

In the final sequence, Chance is seen walking on water which is a feat attributed to only one other person in human history. Obviously not a prophet, but instead elevated to that level by people who saw in him only what they wanted to see, and not who he really was.

Sound familiar?

Quoting Roger Ebert again:

“What are we to assume? That Chance is a Christ figure? That the wisdom of great leaders only has the appearance of meaning? That we find in politics and religion whatever we seek? That like the Road Runner (who also defies gravity) he will not sink until he understands his dilemma?”

“The movie's implications are alarming. Is it possible that we are all just clever versions of Chance the gardener? That we are trained from an early age to respond automatically to given words and concepts? That we never really think out much of anything for ourselves, but are content to repeat what works for others in the same situation?”

So, while we wait for that much-anticipated first unscripted interview, town hall, debate, etc., be prepared for the idea that it won’t happen. I believe her campaign staff has seen this movie and is following the script.

Image: AT via Magic Studio