Trump

I don’t know if you saw the movie Arrival earlier this year. But I did. Four times.

That’s because it had so many of the elements that interest the super geek in me. Science fiction, time anomalies, aliens, language and Jeremy Renner.

The premise is this: 12 alien vessels simultaneously land at various points on the globe. They are still and silent which of course scares the bejesus out of all of the military types in charge of figuring out what they want. America decides to send a scientist and a world-class linguist along with several CIA goons into the ship in Montana (at the invitation of the aliens), to figure out how to communicate.

Hilarity ensues.
Not really. But needless to say, this is when the movie really gets interesting.

Language is a sophisticated skill-set developed over time by a species in order to communicate complex thoughts, emotions, and ideas. One wrong word can start a war—wiping out mankind. Such a calamity takes place in the movie when the linguist mistakenly translates weapon instead of tool. As you can imagine, the guy from the CIA blows a gasket and the entire project goes off the rails.

(Cue the dire music.)

That’s a HUGE oversimplification of a very complicated plot and I won’t blow the ending for you but let’s just say the whip-smart woman with all the right words keeps a cool head and saves a planet (or two).
Again.

All of this to say, I believe words have energy. A power beyond their meaning in the dictionary. They should be chosen carefully especially if you’re, I don’t know, someone whose words can influence worldwide financial markets—and launch missiles.

Saying that a ridiculous, nonsensical word has hidden meaning to a chosen few instead of admitting the fact that you were tantrum-texting in the middle of the night is an insult to those of us who possess a working brain, treasure words, and to those people who take the time to pick just the right ones. Like journalists and diplomats to name a few.

It is also terrifying for all the reasons that need no explanation. I know how this movie can end.

Let’s not get distracted by the absurdity that surrounds us these days. It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

Well, I’m hurting. Are you? 

Carry on,
xox

Um, Yeah, what he said.

Since Donald Trump landed with a giant, orange thud on my radar two-ish years ago, I have watched him traverse the political landscape with a mix of slack-jawed awe and mild nausea.

Who is this guy and how in the hell did this happen?

Previous to running for the office of President of The United States he was just another self-aggrandizing blowhard who lived in a golden tower, cheated on his wives, called himself a billionaire, starred in a cheesy reality show and had something to say about everyone and everything.

Not necessarily an educated opinion—just something to say.

He assumed he had an audience. I guess he thought people cared…Right? Someone must have said that to him once, “Hey, Don, I’d love to hear what you have to say about Roe V Wade!”

He slithered his way through his preferred method of communication—a Howard Stern interview, waffling back and forth on his opinions of the Clintons, Barack Obama, abortion, and the Iraq war on a regular basis.
It was all in good fun back then.

Just a couple of douches talking nonsense.

New Yorkers couldn’t stand the guy and yet, without ever holding public office or participating in any kind of community organizing besides building skyscrapers with his name emblazoned on them in thirty-foot high gold lettering—he gained some traction.

And in 2015 after some consideration (I can’t write that it was careful because that word can never be used in the same sentence as his name), Trump decided to you know, run for Leader of the Free World.

After the most wtf campaign on record and the most wtf win in the history of winning—he now sits behind the big desk in the Oval Office.

“Nothing like this has remotely happened!” has been echoing around the globe since November and I for one have just GOT to put some kind of positive spin on this…this…this anomaly.

What is an anomaly anyway?

Webster defines it as “something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected.”

An oddity. A peculiarity. 

A quirk. A rarity.

Something inconsistent with the norm.

Yes, yup, uh huh and bingo.

It seems to me we are now living in the Age of Absurdity. I can resist (which believe me, on the things that matter I am) but on one point in particular, I say, if you can’t beat ‘um—join ‘um. Do you wanna know what the tipping point was for me?

One word. Oprah.

She voiced in a recent interview exactly what I’ve been thinking.

When asked if she was interested in running for President she responded saying that Mr. Trump’s election had made her re-evaluate her previous skepticism about running for President.

“I never considered the question even a possibility,” she told David Rubenstein on his Bloomberg Television program when pressed about whether she might consider running in 2020. “I just thought, ‘Oh… oh?'”
Referring to Mr. Trump, Mr. Rubenstein said: “It’s clear you don’t need government experience to be elected president of the United States”.

“That’s what I thought,” she continued. “I thought, ‘Oh, gee, I don’t have the experience, I don’t know enough.’ And now I’m thinking, ‘Oh.'”

That’s crazy, right? …CRAZY GOOD!

Will Oprah run? Probably not. But that’s not the point.

How many of us think we’re “unqualified” for a promotion because of the way things have always been done?
How many of us never even try things we know nothing about like writing books, screenplays or musicals?

What if we could accept this new normal and have the kind of faith in ourselves that Trump apparently has? We don’t have to go all dark and twisty narcissistic. What about supremely, peculiarly and unexpectedly confident?

You know what I mean.

If you’re like me you reconsider opportunities because of your age (too young or too old), your inexperience, the fact that you’re unfamiliar with the “system”, and the knowledge that certain things Just aren’t done that way.

I think we can all agree that time is over.

All bets are off.

The rules have all been broken. They are scattered at our feet. That can either be a bad thing—or a good thing.

I say if the idea occurs to you and you think you’d be good at it—go for it!

Who knows, you may end up President of The United States.

Carry on
xox

Guys,
This is from the end of last summer, and unfortunately, it’s become even more relevant NOW, (after all of his Super Tuesday wins virtually guarantee him the nomination).

I’ve never been super political, but this is nuts. How did this thing get legs? Somebody explain this to me.

Every time I see the man speak (which is exclusively on CNN at the gym), my blood curdles. It’s a train wreck. I’m truly horrified. I try to face the other way but those are the harder machines and well, I guess I’m not THAT horrified.

The closest thing to an explanation that I got was something I heard on the radio while driving the other day. “People are pissed, they’re angry, and they’re not gonna take it anymore! So they resonate with the meanest, angriest, candidate. He says what they WANT to say”, the political pundit practically yelled at the interviewer.

Even Christie (who’s one donut away from being a nice guy), got all Jersey on Trump’s ass and then turned around and kissed it with his endorsement. What. The. Fuck?

I get it that people are pissed. Some things appear to be in shambles. But you guys, most things are not.

I slept in a bed last night. I have access to the internet. I prepared food from my refrigerator. My husband has Medical insurance for the first time in fifteen years. I’m not running for my life from a ruthless dictator. I’m not a refugee and I’m guessing that you’re not either.

I always say, ‘travel the world and then come back and tell me you hate it here’. Don’t get me wrong, we have some shit to fix, but America doesn’t need to be made great again. It already is.
There. I said it.

If you disagree and you think that Trump is the best man for the job, please explain it to me. Please!
xox

I’m writing a screenplay, and a musical, and what that means besides a whole lot of hair pulling and teeth gnashing is: I have to be able to tell a compelling story in a little over a hundred pages (depending who you talk to), and write dialogue. Lots and lots of snappy dialogue.

Hopefully, I can raise my game and it will be much smarter and funnier than anything I could ever hope to say.

Every day I re-read the pages and ask myself (or the character), How can we say that better?

When you do enough homework on your characters (one year and a half of character development for the play), you can put them in almost any situation and they’ll write the dialogue for themselves while you sit back and take dictation. If I get stuck I’m too much in my head, over thinking things, and I need a chocolate break.

How can we say that better?

Sarcasm is too easy. Irony is sarcasm’s older, smarter brother.

A well-articulated fight scene is better than a simple Fuck you!
Fuck you is too easy. It’s lazy. People want more.

When two characters are able to state their respective points of view in a witty and entertaining way, well, jackpot!
If they stoop to hurling witless insults it bores me, and the next day it won’t make the cut.
Again, it’s pedestrian writing. Much too uninspired.

I’ve started to translate this way of thinking to my personal life. I can’t tell you how many times a DAY I demand from myself:
How can you say that better?

Am I mad; or sad? What’s my motivation here? Do I have a compelling argument or do I just need to eat? Will I lob a Fuck You or will I say what I mean?—You hurt my feelings! Am I being clear or passive aggressive?

The reason I bring this up is that I’m extremely disappointed in the G.O.P. Even more so than usual.

What’s with the huge public support of Donald Trump and why are they backing him by having him at the debate tonight? He’ll bring to the debate what Mike Tyson brought to the Evander Holyfield fight. If he feels outmatched, he’ll get frustrated and make the easy choice—he’ll fight dirty. He’s the verbal equivalent of an ear biter. And he’s incredibly mean-spirited.

He has elevated public humiliation and mean-spiritedness to a spectator sport. People are going to tune in just to see who he will verbally eviscerate, and I for one am disgusted. Do we want a bully for President of the United States?

Does he have a platform? Can he form an argument that doesn’t insult my intelligence? Can he actually debate? My nineteen-year-old nephew could craft a better argument than what I’ve heard from him so far.

In our school debates we would be disqualified if we leveled verbal “low blows” disguised as insults.
We had to know our shit, We had to have done our homework. No ear biting. Mean was not allowed—too easy. You’d look foolish and lazy if you showed up unprepared.

As I’ve watched him spew his vitriol, insulting a war veteran and an entire race of people, just to name a few, I’ve wanted to scream at the television.

Donald! How can you say that better?

Do your homework! Stop being so lazy! Stop acting so banal!
You don’t think McCain’s a war hero? Tell me about your deferments!
Do you want tighter immigration restrictions? Lay out a better plan than having Mexicans build a wall.

Insults should get you disqualified.
Mean spiritedness shouldn’t get laughs. Really people? Humor is smart. Insults are not.

Tonight, Donald Trump will take the place of, and steal the spotlight from another candidate who is articulate and better qualified. Right? I mean, as disenchanted as I am, I’m certain that man exists.

The stakes are high you guys. This isn’t his reality show boardroom—it’s a run for the Oval Office. Arguably, the most powerful position in the world.

Will Trump become the Presidential nominee of the Republican Party? Stay tuned to this developing plot in his latest reality fiasco.

And as sick as that possibility makes me, as a Democrat, I hope so.

Carry on,
xox

This is just…pathetic.