Not quite the Holy Roman Empire — which was neither holy, Roman, nor an empire, observed Voltaire — but Trump's Truth Social strives for the selfsame, threefold fraudulence whenever possible.
"Between posts about conspiracy theories and right-wing grievances was an unusual advertisement: a photo of former President Donald J. Trump holding a $1,000 bill made of gold, which he was apparently offering free to supporters.
"But there were a few catches: The bill was not free, it was not made of gold, and it was not offered by Mr. Trump."
So writes Stuart Thompson, The NY Times' technology reporter of disinformation on the internet. That's a big, sprawling job, what with Trump still scamming with every fiber of his congenitally unscrupulous being. But Thompson was up to the job, the results of which sprawl across the Times' pages in a sometimes risible, frequently repellent, always deceptive way.
The $1,000 bill is just one of the stunts from the "hucksters and fringe marketers" who exclusively populate Truth Social's advertising milieu. The proffers are not directly from Trump — he's merely the vendor for vendors — but he's desperately happy to charge for them, since his site is unable to attract legitimate advertisers.
Thompson looked at hundreds of Trump's ads, and found nothing but grifts for "alternative medicine, diet pills, gun accessories, Trump-themed trinkets, children’s books about the dangers of communism, an 'anti-woke' life insurance company, a vaccine exemption card, coins, bills, gold-plated bars, knives, ammo, tactical gear, hats, T-shirts and other items." Perusing Trump's site is like watching TV infomercials at 3 a.m. for $19,95 junk, free shipping graciously included.
Truth Social needs every one of these scams — and more. The site raised about $37 million initially but has been eating nearly $2 million each month. Established advertisers and those not under federal investigation adhere to William Safire's condemnation of written clichés — Truth Social is to be avoided like the plague.
But Trump's ad playbook has become self-reinforcing. Notes advertising consultant Tom Denford: "The more you stray from that safe center, the more you become the fringe or the extreme on anything, then the less money you’re going to get." Even Trump's advertisers complain that his reading audience is too small, so Mr. Musk, here he comes.
As I scoured the various swindles, one in particular jumped out as the most hilariously repugnant. This one:
"Sponsored Truth," says the ad at the top. One wonders how many of Trump's few readers gobbled up this time-pressing offer.
Have his reader-consumers had enough? Not quite. "Can you not vet the ads on Truth? I’ve been scammed more than once," wrote one apparently eager to be swindled yet again.
That any Truth Social follower would still not "get" the inside joke of Trump's sustained abuse may be dumbfounding to rational beings, but it's impeccable confirmation of Truth's followers' likeness to largemouth bass.