RFK Jr. has made another foray into the public eye, with his latest attempt to be all things to all men. First, he was the relatable Dead Worm in His Brain Guy, then, the down-to-earth Dead Bear Prankster, and now, he’s the wholesome Grandfather Figure Who Asphyxiates a Grasshopper in Front of You.
Like any real and absolutely normal Grandfather, when making a video, RFK favors looking at himself on his phone screen over looking down the lens. So far, so standard. To fully immerse us in the Grandpops experience, he makes sure to hold his phone approximately two feet below his face, giving us, the viewer, the vantage point of a hopeful child, ready to receive the rich wisdom soon to be imparted by this totally garden-variety G-pa. Maybe RFK has finally found his groove!
Then — what’s that sound? Is it the sound of a fetid corpse being dragged across brittle autumn leaves? No! That sound you hear is just the voice of our kindly, normal Poppa, telling us that he has found a grasshopper in his house.
He lurches towards the small creature. Then grasping, nay, choking the harmless insect in his decaying hand, our lesson begins. Turns out, our Dad’s Dad is quite the entomologist. There is nothing he doesn’t know about bird grasshoppers.
He begins his lecture, but we can’t hear him. Not with the beady, pleading eyes of the captive grasshopper staring at us through the lens, begging for someone, anyone, to help. RFK says he will let him go. Do we believe him? The grasshopper staring into our souls doesn’t. Grandy-poops reassures us, “Don’t worry, I’m not hurting him now.”
The grasshopper silently begs for their life. And what a life it has been. Knowing what we have learned in this brief lesson from RFK so far, the life of a bird grasshopper is short. In grasshopper years, this ill-fated fellow has spent months of his existence in the clammy hand of a man who believes that the 2020 presidential election was stolen.
But wait! What’s this? “I’m going to let him go.” Sweet mercy! G-daddy loosens his grip on our grass dwelling friend, and…
The grasshopper stays. Not only that, but it crawls on to the back on RFK’s hand. Could it be that the hopper is suffering from Stockholm Syndrome? (Ok, so I know that Stockholm Syndrome isn’t actually a thing, but please stay with me for the sake of anthropomorphic whimsy.) Or worse – maybe this grasshopper was a Republican all along. Never fear, for unlike Taylor Swift, this leggy, tuneful singer doesn’t need to fear the consequences of showing political allegiance. Coming to their senses, the plucky hopper leaps to freedom, to a place where the grass is most certainly greener (and bluer).