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, …
Another week, another story about how Donald Trump did something sexist, treated a woman flippantly or contemptuously; or how he moved to cop a feel on stage without even trying to pretend that all his judgments about woman aren’t based on their looks and the size of their tits.
I moved on her like a bitch. Grab em by the pussy. Indeed. About a year ago, with the release of the Access Hollywood tape, we were handed a sordid glimpse into the small but greatly diseased pile of gray mush that resides within the skull of Donald Trump. We were repelled and revolted, aghast and put off, but not enough…
We used to want a president who inspired us to do better, who called upon our better angels. Now we have a pretender who inspires the worst parts of society to crawl forth from their prejudice and hatred so that he - a man without a moral compass - can fill a twisted need within the black hole of his being with applause and adoration.
We used to want our leaders smarter, more knowledgeable than ourselves that they might search higher and deeper for solutions to a society's problems. Now we have a man who revels in his own ignorance, takes pride in his unwillingness to learn, his unwillingness to grow.
We used to value maturity and wisdom. We used to want a president that, although imperfect, strove to be a decent human being. Now we have petulance, smut, obscenity and indecency personified in the creature named Donald Trump, and daily he excretes a widening stain on our norms and institutions.