The Republican National Convention, 2024.
About
Who Are You With?
When Don Jr. got on stage to say whatever the hell he had to say, which was almost certainly an echo of what everyone else had already said and would say, I went to take a shit. Fuck that guy and fuck his beard, and fuck Ted Cruz and his beard, too.
A cross between a giant bizarro bachelorette party and a preppy professional wrestling event, the 2024 Republican National Convention was a high-octane, red white and blue SPECTACLE. Human butt can Kid Rock did a short set in front of towering screens displaying fire and American flags, and Hulk goddamn Hogan ripped his goddamn shirt off. If weighed, the amount of makeup used by attendees would measure in metric tons, and to indicate an air of power and importance, to look good on TV, big-shot men wore eyeliner. While none of the Idaho delegates wore eye liner (no Poo Bahs in Idaho I guess), they were handing out potato pins like a summer camp bracelet exchange. The campiness of it all kinda masked how utterly terrifying and tyrannical the messaging was.
I was in Milwaukee with a photography press credential issued to Seattle Gay News. Every Republican who asked me who I was with became visibly uncomfortable when I told them. One person jokingly said, “oh that’s why you’re so handsome.”
When a MAGA member asks “who are you with?”, what they’re really asking is “are you with us or are you with them? What kind of American are you?” When a journalist asks that question, it’s part small talk, part street-cred check, part networking. Both groups were asking this question, and I found it annoying regardless of the motive.
Who was I with? I was WITH five wonderful photographers.
Nate Gowdy
Scott Brauer
Jeremy Hogan
Greg Evans
Maxim Elramsisy
These guys do photography for a living, and they’re damn good at it. It was a pleasure and a gift to be welcomed into their world of political photojournalism. I was there for the experience, and on night four, the grand finale, I was off my face on LSD, a hallucination inside of a right wing fever dream. I stood twenty feet from Trump’s big looming, prattling head. Behind me a mustachioed guy under a MAGA-red MAGA hat was dressed in a suit styled like a brick wall. He chugged the kool aid, I mean he really guzzled it down, for the duration of the speech. All around me newscasters, journalists, young MAGA security detail, and enthused delegates crammed in like sardines. Just before the balloon drop, which was, as you might imagine, a whole lot of fun on acid, I asked myself, “how the hell did I get here?” Was my presence in this madhouse a result of good life choices or poor life choices? I don’t know, but I do know fuck Don Jr. and don’t vote for his dad.
The photos in this zine come from the group of us, regular guys taking photos in an irregular environment. “Enjoy” might not be the right word to prompt your viewing experience, but whatever, you’ll figure it out. Bawitdaba!
Brandon Bye
O’Hare International Airport, July 19, 2024
NOTE: This zine was abandoned after Donald Trump won the 2024 election.
Outfits galore.
Magnum photographer Bruce Gilden shows Nebraska delegates his snaps, hamming up his celebrity in a room full of wanna-be celebrities.
Nancy Mace gives the crowd some anti-trans red meat to howl at.
There is a black biker bar in Milwaukee called Throttle Twisters, fyi.
On day two of the convention, the crowd turned on the press. The hostility was felt for the second half of the day.
Hostility toward this man.
And this man.
And this guy, too, with his top button buttoned.
Serious news man gets ready for news interview.
Interviewee.
Merch Is King, too.
I don’t know what to write for this caption. MAGA merch is a monetized labyrinth.
A photographer waits for a man on his phone to do something worth photographing.
The only two delegates in the room with any balls were from Texas. During Matt Gaetz’ bit, they stood up and turned their backs to him for obvious reasons. I asked them anyway. Her response: “that man is a pedophile and does not belong in this building.”
Brian Edward Kelley is best known for his role in the Nashville-based duo Florida Georgia Line. His son took off his hat seconds after this photo was taken.
Ronald Dion DeSantis marches his way to the podium after Nimarata Nikki Randhawa Haley wraps up her sellout routine.
Day 4, the final day of the convention, was wild. Here we go.
Peter Navarro pointing fingers hours after being released from doing a prison bid for Big Daddy Trump.
Pure class. Honestly, I’m for this kind of shithousery in a way.
Hulk goddamn Hogan
Human butt can Kid Rock
PBS correspondant Lisa Desjardins
Donald J Trump performing toward a fireman’s jacket. The jacket is a replica of the one that belonged to the man who died during the assassination attempt a few days before the convention. The name on the jacket is misspelled.
This is the guy with the custom tailored brick wall suit, hammered on the MAGA Kool-Aid.
MSNBC correspondent Jacob Soboroff is chill and also not chill, in a cool, fuck-you way.
Free press. Free press.
All photos by Brandon Bye