We all hear quite a bit from the so-called president Trump how he’s down on the haters. As if anyone not in agreement with his world view can be easily dismissed as baseless and unreasonable. Haters are irrational; they don’t think about what they’re hating; it’s an unconscious reaction to anything Trump.
According to Trump.
However, back in the real world…
Sometimes I wonder if the world will come to its senses.
In my lifetime.
Would be nice, but it’s starting to seem unlikely.
Eventually, yes. Humanity grows.
But real progress is not measured in years. Nor in centuries I’m afraid.
But look back…
I’m going to have to quit reading the news. Every time I tune in, it’s another disgusting Donny Trump episode that reminds me how far the United States has fallen. My mind should be on other things I suppose, but I find myself fascinated by the shit-flinging monkey spectacle that is called Trump. The people have spoken – and I accept that. I accept that enough people wanted a shit-flinging monkey for president to make it happen.
By the way, no offense to monkeys. They’re actually kind of cute and all. I just don’t want one near the nuclear launch codes.
Hey. Maybe it’s just me but I hate crime movies where the criminals are a bunch of dumb asses. Like this one. In fairness, it’s not so much that their character is stupid, but that the script calls for stupid things in order to advance the plot.
See, the main hacker kid was supposed to be brainy and knowledgeable, even if he doesn’t know hacking exactly. More like a bunch of idiotic clichés like all you gotta do is cruise on over to darkweb.com and create an account.
Anyway, some Columbian guy forgets his credit card in a strip club so Mr. Hacker and his beer buzz buddy decide to use it to withdraw a bunch of cash. It’s a very high end card, but it’s too dangerous to use more than once. Beer Buzz and Hacker agree. One big score, no more. Good times.
Months later in the movie, someone decided that they need to push the plot sideways and get a little bathroom blood revenge porn splashed…
This film had a lot of promise, but it veers off course pretty rapidly.
Let’s recap. Seven septuplet (is that redundant?) sisters conveniently named Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. live together in a rooftop apartment. Each can only go out into the world on their namesake day because it’s against the law to have siblings. Overpopulation, scare resources, all of that stuff. You know the drill. No more double cheeseburgers.
At the end of each day, that day’s sister - who has ventured forth under the singular identity of Karen Settman – must pow wow with the other six…
It’s times like these that I wonder how a particular trajectory of society intersected at the correct moment with a man of courage, conviction and love. I’m not usually a believer in fate, but it’s times like these when I question my confidence in the randomness of events.
I know little of Martin Luther King outside of the legend. I was a teenager when he was assassinated and although his struggles didn’t at the time seem to affect me personally, we had been living in the decade of assassinations of decency and I knew even then, perhaps with only a faint intuition, …