This month marks seven years that I’ve been writing this blog, and with mathematical convenience, my 300^th essay in it.

It has been my great pleasure—and therapy—to vent more or less weekly lo those many years, and I am grateful to everyone who has supported this labor of love and self-care on my part….by which I mean everyone who reads it, or even just diplomatically moves it into the trash folder every week without bothering to unsubscribe. Your kindness and tact are much appreciated.

To commemorate this anniversary, I’m turning the tables and letting myself be interviewed by my good friend Isabella Tuttisanti del Barilla, the renowned Italian photojournalist, internationally famous sunglasses designer, award-winning amateur pastry chef, and professional parkour competitor. (Good luck at the 2028 Olympics in LA, Isa!)

Edited for clarity and vetted against libel by The King’s Necktie’s crack legal team of Saul Goodman, Esq. and Dewey Cheatem & Howe LLP. (Note to self: This month’s retainer is overdue.)

TLDNR

ISABELLA TUTTISANTI DEL BARILLA: It’s nice to see you again, Bobby. It’s been what? Three years?

THE KING’S NECKTIE: Yes. Since Kuala Lumpur, and “the incident.” You in the clear now?

ITdB: Yes, the doctor gave me an ointment; thanks. And thank you for asking me to do the interview. Do you mind if I smoke?

TKN: I’d prefer if you didn’t.

(She lights up.)

ITdB: So what made you start writing this blog?

TKN: Concern for my own mental health, mostly. When Trump came to power….I hate to say “elected,” because I don’t dispute that he won the Electoral College, or that that’s the super fucked up way we choose our presidents, but I don’t want to suggest that a majority of Americans voted for him. Just enough to make it happen.

Anyway, when Trump came to power my head was at risk of exploding with every passing day and every new outrage, so after a few months I needed a way to let off that steam. Luckily, the Internet exists, or I’d be standing on street corners handing out mimeographs.

But when I started writing this thing in May of 2017, it felt self-indulgent to me—like, who gives a shit what I think? But I really didn’t care, because I was so angry. So I began writing the blog primarily just as catharsis, and I figured if anyone other than me got anything out of it, that was a bonus. I’m a big Peter Greenaway fan, and back in the ‘90s, at a Q&A at the San Francisco Film Festival, I heard an audience member ask him about the accusation that he makes films only for himself. And Greenaway looked surprised, and said. “I think it’s the height of arrogance to imagine that one makes films for anyone but oneself.“ That’s my ethos too, with this blog.

I do feel a little embarrassed still, but I can’t stop. Or more precisely, I should say that I am unwilling to stop. If I didn’t let off that steam, I’d go nuts.

Does that answer your question?

ITdB: Sorry—I nodded off. What were you saying?

TKN: Just that—

ITdB: Where did the name come from?

TKN: I’ve always been fond of the quote that appears on the masthead, ever since I first read it years ago, but I was under the impression that it was from Edward Abbey. Then I learned that wasn’t the case. Apparently when he was the editor of his college literary magazine at the University of New Mexico in the Twenties, he’d used that it on the cover of an issue and attributed it to Louisa May Alcott, for the sake of sheer absurdism, I presume. After I learned that, I was under the mis-impression that the quote was really from Diderot, the French Enlightenment philosopher. But then a  sharp-eyed reader informed me that it was really Jean Meslier—another Frenchman—who was an apostate priest turned atheist in the early 19^th century. But I like the original Louisa May Alcott joke. For a long time, about once a month I’d get some wiseacre writing to tell me it wasn’t Alcott, so finally I put a disclaimer in the fine print saying, “Yes, I know it was really Meslier.”

ITdB: Yes, but isn’t it a little violent? The imagery? Especially in these fraught times?

TKN: I hear you. When I started the blog, as angry and upset as I was about Trump, the idea of political violence in the US wasn’t really a worry. Obviously, the quote is just a somewhat tongue-in-cheek quip about the insidious power of despotism and organized religion, which frequently go hand in hand, you may have noticed. But after January 6, talk about stringing up political leaders doesn’t feel so metaphorical, or distant anymore. So I’ll admit it makes me a little uneasy now. But at this point, the brand is what it is.

ITdB: Everyone has their reasons, right?

TKN: Right. So why shouldn’t I? Like the bit in Catch-22, where they ask Yossarian about his request not to fly any more missions: “Suppose everyone felt that way?” And he answers, “Then I’d be a damned fool to feel any other way, wouldn’t I?”

ITdB: One of the things about this blog is that it’s a bit….

(pause)

TKN: Long-winded?

ITdB: I was going to say exhausting. Have you ever thought about writing shorter pieces?

TKN: What do you mean?

(Long, uncomfortable pause)

I kid. Yes, of course. Lots of people have suggested that. I’ve tried it, on occasion and I understand the advantages. But the whole point of this blog was as a place for me to vent without any adult supervision, and without the editorial hand that’s on me in all my other work—for the good, usually. That includes both work-for-hire and my own stuff, where my agents and editors and publishers often press me to be briefer, for my own good. The blog, by contrast, is deliberately and unabashedly self-indulgent in that regard. But my feeling is that nobody’s under any obligation to read the whole piece, or any of it. So I’m happy with this paradigm.

ITdB: But don’t you think shorter pieces would be…..you know, better. And have more reach, and more impact?

TKN: Yes. How’s that for brevity?

Also, the speed at which I write doesn’t give me a lot of time to reflect on a piece and cut it down before posting. Like Mark Twain said, “Pardon the long letter; I didn’t have time to write a short one.”

ITdB: I think it was Louisa May Alcott who said that.

BLOGGER WALKS INTO A BAR

ITdB: Speaking of which, what about the humor in the blog? Personally, I don’t find you very funny, but I’m told some people do.

TKN: (annoyed) Awaiting your question, Isa.

ITdB: The question is, what do you say to the complaint that the jokes—“jokes”—detract from your credibility, and represent a lack of seriousness?

TKN: Well, first I would say that humor and seriousness are not antonyms. You can use humor in a deadly serious way. In fact, Ferne and I have spent a lot of time delving into that area. But semantics aside, I understand the critique.

ITdB: Awaiting your answer, Roberto.

TKN: The answer is that the humor is integral to the style. In my book, Resisting the Right, which is about to come out, I indulge in it less, for that very reason. The tone is similar, but I don’t veer off on absurdist asides, and I’m generally a little more sober.

ITdB: Not a quality you’re known for in your personal life.

TKN: Funny. And they say Italians are humorless.

ITdB: What about the criticism that you’re just preaching to the chorus—

TKN: Choir.

ITdB: …..or worse, doing harm by actively insulting and alienating people who aren’t as anti-Trump as you are?

TKN: I never set out to reach Trump supporters. That’s not what this blog is about. It’s about rallying our side. I wanted to commune with kindred spirits, and exchange information, and organize, and keep up morale. It’s purely a cheerleading task—as Jacques Servin of the Yes Men describes what they do. I didn’t intend to reach across the aisle and change the minds of any Trump supporters….and I think it’s safe to say that, as far as I know, I haven’t.

At this point I think very few Trump supporters are persuadable anyway, and I don’t wanna spend my time trying. I know there is a small sliver of folks in that squishy middle who might go one way or the other, and I know they might be pivotal in November, so I’m glad somebody with more generosity and patience than me is trying to woo them. But that’s just not what I do.

ITdB: But aren’t you doing harm by alienating them? By feeding their sense of snotty liberals who look down on them?

TKN: I suppose. But are they really reading this blog in the first place?

ITdB: Probably not. Even I don’t read it, and I hate Trump.

TKN: Compliment received. But man, I am really sick of being told to walk on eggshells so as not to offend Trump supporters. Fuck that and fuck them. They damn sure don’t worry about offending us. I don’t think it does democracy any good to infantilize these people and not call them out for their outrageous and destructive anti-American bullshit, or pretend that they’re good faith actors or that the things they’re saying and doing are “legitimate political discourse” and not an active attempt to put an end to the republic. That just plays into their game, which is the deceitful subversion of the democratic process.

When it comes to the contemporary Republican Party—which should rightly be renamed the Trump Party, by the by. I don’t think the “GOP” deserves that title, or the legacy of Lincoln, and I say that as someone who, in his youth, was a registered Republican. It’s the Trump Party now, and we should call it that.

ITdB: Focus, babe.

TKN: What I’m saying is that when it comes to the contemporary Republican-slash-Trump-Party, we are not dealing with rational actors or a legitimate political party any more. We’re dealing with a radical insurgency that intends to exploit the very means of democracy in order to destroy it, all the while shrugging and feigning innocence, or worse, acting like they’re the real defenders of the Constitution and the principles this nation was founded on, and not neo-fascist white nationalist theocrats. And we should not let them get away with that bullshit.

ITdB: (smiling) Now that’s what I came for: vintage King’s Necktie. A very on-brand diatribe.

TKN: One tries.

ITdB: Any concerns about self-righteousness?

TKN: A few. But you don’t have to be perfect or blameless yourself to notice that the next guy is a monster. Or idolizes one.

IT TAKES A VILLAGE, SANS IDIOTS

ITdB: Do you ever go back and read your old essays?

TKN: Rarely. Drunk dialing old girlfriends usually doesn’t end well. But I admit, I do occasionally have a reason to pull up an old post, and I’ll read a bit, or skim it.

ITdB: And?

TKN: And I usually find some nice stuff, but I’m also often embarrassed at what obviously should have been cut. To circle back to your earlier point about brevity.

ITdB: OK, so sticking with just people who are predisposed to share your politics: what has the reaction to the blog been over the years?

TKN: It’s been amazing, and I remain really humbled by that—

ITdB: I would take issue with the word “humble,” or that you can claim to “remain” that way….

TKN: —I’ve just been surprised at how many people read it, and the positive feedback I’ve gotten. I have some diehard supporters who I commune with every week online, people who I know only through the blog. And then sometimes I’ll run into an old friend, or even a casual acquaintance, and they’ll tell me they read it every week and love it, and I can tell from their comments that they really do. That always astounds me, because of course I have no idea how it’s landing with most people. A few people have told me, “Your blog got me through the Trump years,” which like I say, is a huge part of what I set out to do.

I’m actually shocked that so few people have unsubscribed—only a handful, literally less than ten, and I’m equally surprised which ones they were. I think there must be a substantial number of folks on the distro list who are too polite to hurt my feelings, and just dutifully move it to the trash every week.

But people have been so supportive. For example, I have a wonderful woman named Gina Patacca who is a professional copy editor who voluntarily edits it pro bono every week. Bill Moyers became a fan and a promoter of the blog, and even began publishing some of my essays on his own site, so that was a huge thing for me. I’m honored, and in his debt.

ITdB: How did that come about?

TKN: The blog was sent to him by a mutual friend, the great Oscar-nominated documentary filmmaker Bill Jersey, who’s now 96, and who’s been a friend and mentor to me since I first left film school. So as the saying goes, “It’s not what you know, or even who you know, but who knows you.”

Ferne has been the most supportive of all. You’ve heard of a golf widow? She’s a blog widow. Sometimes she’ll see me staring off into space while we’re in line at the supermarket or something, and she’ll say, “You’re writing your blog, aren’t you?” But she couldn’t be more supportive, which means a lot, because she’s a much better and smarter publicist for the blog than I am.

ITdB: You’re lucky to have her.

TKN: I know.

ITdB: Any haters?

TKN: Oh yeah. I’d be falling down on the job if there weren’t. Occasionally some Trumper stumbles across it. But less of that now than in the early days, which either belies the conventional wisdom that the algorithm seeks to create conflict, or confirms the other conventional wisdom that it silos people and trades in confirmation bias.

ITdB: What essay drew the most fire?

TKN: The most—and most hateful—pushback I got was for a couple of posts about gun violence in 2018, in the wake of Parkland. Even my essays about abortion have not been met with that kind of vitriol….though those two demos overlap a lot, which is worrying in its own right.

But it was a real glimpse into Bizarro World, with right wingers attacking me and saying crazy shit, like claiming I’d never been in the Army, for example. Which I assure you I was. But you don’t have to take my word for it, because Uncle Sam keeps records. Unless you want to believe they’re forged too, as part of some grand Illuminati-brand conspiracy.

ITdB: Let’s not rule that out.

TKN: Plenty of folks don’t. After all, lots of records were destroyed in a mysterious fire at ARPERCEN in the ‘70s.

RESISTING THE RIGHT

ITdB: So has writing the blog fulfilled your expectations, the ones you had when you started it?

TKN: Oh, yeah. Exceeded them. It’s let me develop a different set of muscles than I use as a screenwriter, which has been my main gig for more than twenty years. And it’s led to various opportunities, which I’m very grateful for.

ITdB: Perfect segue. Do you want to plug your book?

TKN: Does Rose Kennedy own a black dress? If I can’t plug it on my own blog, where can I plug it?

The book is called Resisting the Right: How to Survive the Gathering Storm, and it’s being  published by OR Books here in New York. It’s available for pre-order now and will ship at the end of June. It’s a kind of “worst case scenario” guide for what to do if Trump retakes power, and we find ourselves living under a right wing Christian nationalist autocracy, which a second Trump term would be.

ITdB: Jesus Christ. I don’t even want to think about that.

TKN: But we have to.

ITdB: So it assumes a Trump win is a fait accompli?

TKN: Far from it. I am guardedly optimistic that we will prevail, if we stay focused. The book aims to help us do that, and then contemplates what we can do if we fail. I think it’s only prudent to plan for all contingencies. That’s something I was trained to do in the Army—both in the infantry and in military intelligence—and I’ve tried to apply that mentality to our current political crisis.

So the first part looks at the current state of play and how we got here, and what we can do before November 2024 to shore up our democracy and prevent a Republican return to power. In that regard it goes way beyond Trump, because even if he were to drop dead at the defendant’s table in a Manhattan courthouse tomorrow, the fascist movement will carry on.

The second half looks at how to respond if the worst does befall us, and is structured as a handbook for ways Americans can push back across a range of areas: civil disobedience, economics, journalism, public health, education, religious organizations, the arts, and even interpersonal relations, among others.

In writing it, it was my privilege to speak to loads of highly experienced and eloquent folks and to try to distill their expertise and recommendations, from Rev. Norvel Goff, Sr., who was a deacon at Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, South Carolina, at the time of the 2017 mass murder there, to Zoharah Simmons of SNCC, who was a legendary leader in the Civil Rights Movement; to MacArthur winners Jon Else and Dave Isay; Rabbi Michael Berenbaum; Tim Heaphy, who was the lead investigator for the House J6 Committee; Jacques Servin of the Yes Men; Tom Hall of the Back Row Manifesto; Shantal Palacio of the New York State Department of Education; the political strategist Jim Bernfield; the journalist Eric Alterman; the incredible James Carroll, who graciously wrote the foreword; and many others. It also draws on the work of folks like Gene Sharp, Saul Alinsky, Maria Ressa, Masha Gessen, Hannah Arendt, Tim Snyder, and so many more.

ITdB: I don’t mind telling you, Bob, I hope we don’t need your book and it sits on a high shelf and gathers dust.

TKN: Me too. But as I say, American authoritarianism isn’t going away—it has been with us in one form or another since before even the founding of this county, and it’s a safe bet that it always will be. In that regard, I would describe the book more broadly as a manual for defending democracy. And that’s a never-ending struggle.

Two other things about it that I want to mention, if I may.

ITdB: As Barack Obama told Mitt Romney, please proceed.

TKN: In the book I discuss how “resistance” is really the wrong word, per Michelle Alexander, the author of The New Jim Crow, who wrote that the forces of human rights and democracy are not the ones “resisting.” We are the mighty river that authoritarians and their supporters are trying to dam.

Similarly, “Gathering Storm” is in the subtitle to allude to ‘40s fascism. But like “resistance,” the word “survive” is misleading. Because my prescription is not just for survival, and a return to the status quo ante, meaning pre-2016, pre-Trump politics, but how to get on the path to something better—something closer to a true democracy, which the US has always aspired to, very ostentatiously, but never truly achieved for all its citizens.

ITdB: You mean, to build back better?

TKN: To coin a phrase, yes.

ITdB: Then I hope you sell a whole library of books, and that no one ever needs them.

THE FUTURE IS UNWRITTEN (BUT I HAVE A ROUGH TREATMENT)

ITdB: So how long are you going to keep this up? The blog, I mean.

TKN: Well, after the 2020 election a lot of people asked me if I was going to keep writing it. I think that was a common feeling at the time—that we’d ejected this motherfucker from power, and now things would get back to normal. But I never thought that would be the case, or that it would be safe to relax.

I’ll admit, though, that I didn’t think the nightmare was going to continue at this intensity, and even get worse, in terms of the danger we’re facing, I didn’t expect that a guy who summoned a mob to try to overthrow the government by force would stand a 50-50 chance of being returned to power. But what did Mencken say about underestimating the American public?

ITdB: And after November? What’s the future of the blog then?

TKN: Well, if Trump wins they may come kicking down my door, so I dunno. I don’t flatter myself to think that mine will be the first house they’re gonna visit, by the way; I think I’ll have a few weeks while they go after The Nation and The New York Times and The Bulwark and MSNBC first. But I do think free speech and criticism of the government is going to be a lot more fraught if that nightmare comes true. A lot.

But even if Joe wins, I think a violent white nationalist insurgency is here to stay, including its political arm, which is to say, what we used to call the Republican Party. So I don’t anticipate hanging up my blogging spurs any time soon.

ITdB: So you’re going to keep writing this thing until you die?

TKN: Or until fascism in the USA is put down for good like the rabid dog it is. Though that’s an insult both to rabies and to dogs.

So whichever comes first, yeah. I’d put my money on death.

********

Illustration: Photo by Ferne Pearlstein, taken at Grand Army Bar in downtown Brooklyn, April 5, 2024.