No presidential election was ever decided by a housefly, or even a horsefly. But the most famous fly in American history made its national television debut on October 7, 2020 when it landed squarely on the head of Republican Mike Pence, the then-incumbent vice president, who was in the middle of a debate against his Democratic counterpart, Kamala Harris. Despite its diminutive size, the fly looked majestic in all its raven glory, in vivid contrast to Pence’s snow-white head of hair. Pence continued to speak in his typical button-down conservative manner, completely oblivious that his thunder was stolen by a small insect, upon which every viewer was fixated. Essentially, the fly was every bit as effective a photobomber as anyone who ever held up two fingers behind someone’s head, mimicking rabbit ears, while the two posed for a photo. The fly didn’t cost Donald Trump and Pence the election, but it sure was a bad look. Like the perfect storm of a light suit, a five-o-clock shadow, and aftereffects of a knee injury and a high fever were for Richard Nixon on the evening of his first debate with John F. Kennedy.

This time, though, the bad look was self-inflicted. It was Trump insisting that Haitian PHIs (Persons Here Illegally) in Ohio are eating their neighbors’ domesticated animals. In Trump’s own words: “In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs. The people that came in. They’re eating the cats. They’re eating – they’re eating the pets of the people that live there.” Even the least savvy campaign strategists know this footage is absolutely priceless: they play it over and over again in swing states to dissuade undecided voters who are considering casting a ballot for Trump.
Even more frustrating is that Trump didn’t need to bring it up. You had me at “illegal alien,” Mr. President. You had me at “thousands upon thousands are pouring in through the border.” You had me at they’re being put up in nice hotels, given cell phones, credit cards, and precious seats in classrooms, and they get in-state tuition at public universities where American-born out-of-state residents have to pay more. Not to mention the gunrunning, drugdealing, and human trafficking. All that was more than enough to convince me to vote for you, Sir; it’s not as if I was on the fence and learning the illegals might be skyllophagists was the final straw.

It’s not looking particularly good for Trump at the moment, only because Kamala has no business being tied with him in the polls, let alone being ahead. We are involved – albeit indirectly – in two wars overseas. Grocery prices have gone through the roof for three years, and the news of easing inflation lately simply means prices will continue to rise at a slower rate. There’s no reason to think that with Harris in office prices would actually come down. Same with the borders; sure, there are some eleventh-hour crackdowns happening now, but what about all the countless PHIs who’ve been waltzing through the gates since Joe Biden took office?

For those reasons and many more, a major party challenger to an incumbent administration with such a record should be up by double digits. But Trump missed many opportunities, including picking a running mate. Not that his choice, JD Vance, isn’t excellent in many respects, but he’s a double-down of Trump, and a prototypical, off-putting Trump Doberman, like Don Jr. or Eric.
I wondered for a long while: why Vance? But now I think I understand Trump’s gambit: harvesting unharvested hillbillies. There remains a segment of ‘hillbilly voters’ in critical swing states who’ve yet to be swept up into MAGA Nation, and Vance is the secret weapon to draw them out.

I didn’t conceptualize this theory on my own; it was a friend of mine who opened my eyes. The friend has generations of roots in Appalachia. He’s no hillbilly in the sense that a New Yorker might think of one: he doesn’t look or talk like a character from Hee Haw. In fact, he’s well-educated and well-spoken, and looks more like George Will. But my friend explained Appalachia very well, and even introduced me to a fantastic book titled ‘American Nations’, written by Colin Woodward, which explores vast differences in American culture largely determined by geographical boundaries. JD Vance, then, may be the GOP’s secret weapon. He doesn’t bring more women or voters of color to the table; it’s unharvested hillbillies he’ll attract. The harvested ones were voting for Trump anyway, as were the tens of millions of other Trump voters, male and female alike, of varying ages, ethnic backgrounds, and levels of education. It’s those unharvested ones that Vance will be mining.

If Trump manages to pull off this strategy, he’ll look like a political genius. Conventional wisdom suggested he join forces with Nikki Haley, Marco Rubio, or Glenn Youngkin. But in those instances, Trump would have to compromise insofar as worrying that they might turn on him. After all, so many who were once in Trump’s inner circle or just outside of it were fired or quit in a huff and then ran straight to their publisher of choice to write their tell-all memoirs.

In Vance, Trump has an undiluted protégé. Four years ago, one might’ve thought that protégé would be Florida Governor Ron DeSantis. But when DeSantis decided to run for president this time around, Trump took that as an unequivocal act of disloyalty. If Trump’s learned his lesson, he may have vetted Vance far more thoroughly.

Kamala’s got the media, academia, Hollywood, and even some of Wall Street in her pocket. The question is whether there enough unharvested hillbillies to neutralize that huge advantage.