Friday afternoon, when the former White House communications director, disgraced, brought his 2019 Absolution Tour to Canada as a guest marquee for the paying elite lunch at an annual meeting known as the Toronto Global Forum, it was hard not to think at the end Colombian author Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
"Wisdom comes to us when it can no longer do any good," the Nobel Prize winner wrote in his novel about desire, Love at the time of cholera. Is it too late for all of us, as far as Scaramucci's hard-won wisdom is concerned?
During the summer, Trump's senior aide who set a land speed record for the shortest time spent as presidential spokesman – six or 11 days, depending on the metric – announced that he had realized that his ex boss was no longer mentally fit to occupy the Oval Office. Since then, Mr. Scaramucci has intensified the rhetoric in the hope of moving Mr. Trump, supporting a challenger in the Republican primaries or simply encouraging the president to step aside.
Evidently, he showed up in Toronto, packing military-grade rhetorical flamethrowers, and the friendly officers of the Canadian border service agency made it a sign.
"I think the President is in serious mental decline," Scaramucci told Dimitri Soudas, former director of communications for Stephen Harper, who was his interlocutor at lunch time at the Royal York Hotel. "And I'm not saying it now because I'm a political opponent or I've repudiated. I'm saying it objectively, looking at what's going on.
"You have the leader of the free world that creates resentment and dissent, and a license to hate the great American experiment," he continued. "The name of the country is" United ". You have a disunifying leader who destroys the social fabric of the country. This is metastatic cancer. You may not survive that."
What, could you wonder at this point, it took so long for Mr. Scaramucci to notice the ugliness millions of others have seen years ago?
"I accept the fact that it came to my mind late," he admitted during a polite post-appearance scrum with a handful of Canadian journalists, who seemed almost embarrassed by the unlikely seriousness of the man known as The Mooch.
"I think you can say that I was humiliated by that. I admitted my mistake." Now, he said, it is important that he and the others work together to give disenchanted Trump supporters "a ramp" which will allow them to save face and vote for someone else they can believe.
That's why, he said, it's "in intense discussions right now with several people" who are thinking of becoming Republican primary challengers. But time is running out.
"If they don't make that decision in the next three or six weeks, it will probably be Donald J. Trump [as a Republican candidate], unless the mental decline accelerates on a faster descent – at that point someone like Senator [Mitch] McConnell will have to say & # 39; Wait a second & # 39; "and orchestrate the removal of Mr. Trump from the office.
"It will be out of the race by March. This is my prediction ".
Why, asked Soudas, did he sign up to work for Trump in the first place?
"It's a very good question," Scaramucci began, striking a note of self-reflection. "I just want to warn everyone in the room. We tend to think a lot about ourselves. And sometimes we look at others with great justice and great holiness. But what I would like to remind everyone in this room is that we all come from a product of our environment, of our idea of self ".
He was the son of a family of workers "who lived most of the American dream. The American elected president asked you to go and work for him. I don't know. If you can refuse him, God bless you. I couldn't."
So now he is working to repair the damage he has done. But he has an escape hatch in mind. Decades ago, he spent four months in Canada when his firm, Goldman Sachs, was serving the Cadillac Fairview.
"I'm in love with Canada," Scaramucci told the crowd. "I'm not just saying why I'm here. I also watch The Handmaid & # 39; s Tale"- the television adaptation of Margaret Atwood's dystopian bestseller, in which people flee through a modern underground railway in Canada from the United States, which has become a fascist theocracy called Gilead.
"So, I know I have a house up here if I need it. You never know what will happen."
The line, full of adulation and self-deprecation, made a laugh. The Mooch knows how to read an audience.