Was I the only one in the entire nation who was totally creeped out by President Trump and widow Owens the other night?
I used to enjoy watching some of those tele-evangelists with their rapturous crowds out of the same sick pleasure one takes in watching really freaky things. Truth be told, I still pause while channel surfing when I get to those channels where the preacher is telling you to send him money and the scrawl across the bottom of the screen tells you where, and the audience is getting more and more worked up, from great broad grins, to tears of joy streaming down their cheeks, and you sit there watching saying to yourself, "Are there really people in the world who are actually like this, or are they just on TV?"
And somehow the preacher always has really creepy hair, lots of it, and the hair, somehow is important, because it is show business hair, not like normal hair, thin in spots or uneven but somehow over the top hair. Big hair.
And there on TV was the President in his spotless white shirt and his navy blue tie with the white stripes, looking more or less like a normal President, but he's looking Heavenward, up toward the gallery and having this extended exchange with this woman who is getting more and more worked up until she his clasping her hands in prayer and looking up to Heaven, where you just know she can see her dead husband up there, smiling down at her in the gallery as the President of these United States talks to her, just like God, or someone.
And everyone's clapping, just like that scene from the Elephant Man, where this deformed creature stands up and everyone in the audience turns to look at him and they applaud, as if the applause somehow washes him clean of his immense suffering and he has his Hollywood moment, which is going to sustain him until one night, trying to sleep, his head snaps forward and severs his spinal cord.
Gotta love Hollywood moments. They end all the best movies, where everyone in the control room at the space center or wherever is applauding and having a group hug, metaphorically speaking.
And there we were watching it all, in real life, or as real as life gets in Trumptopia, where, after all, we are all living in Fantasyland.
I used to enjoy watching some of those tele-evangelists with their rapturous crowds out of the same sick pleasure one takes in watching really freaky things. Truth be told, I still pause while channel surfing when I get to those channels where the preacher is telling you to send him money and the scrawl across the bottom of the screen tells you where, and the audience is getting more and more worked up, from great broad grins, to tears of joy streaming down their cheeks, and you sit there watching saying to yourself, "Are there really people in the world who are actually like this, or are they just on TV?"
And somehow the preacher always has really creepy hair, lots of it, and the hair, somehow is important, because it is show business hair, not like normal hair, thin in spots or uneven but somehow over the top hair. Big hair.
And there on TV was the President in his spotless white shirt and his navy blue tie with the white stripes, looking more or less like a normal President, but he's looking Heavenward, up toward the gallery and having this extended exchange with this woman who is getting more and more worked up until she his clasping her hands in prayer and looking up to Heaven, where you just know she can see her dead husband up there, smiling down at her in the gallery as the President of these United States talks to her, just like God, or someone.
And everyone's clapping, just like that scene from the Elephant Man, where this deformed creature stands up and everyone in the audience turns to look at him and they applaud, as if the applause somehow washes him clean of his immense suffering and he has his Hollywood moment, which is going to sustain him until one night, trying to sleep, his head snaps forward and severs his spinal cord.
Gotta love Hollywood moments. They end all the best movies, where everyone in the control room at the space center or wherever is applauding and having a group hug, metaphorically speaking.
And there we were watching it all, in real life, or as real as life gets in Trumptopia, where, after all, we are all living in Fantasyland.
Phantom,
ReplyDeleteI can assure you-you are not alone in finding the interaction between the grieving widow and the Exploiter-In-Chief creepy. Indeed. Judging from the photo, Ivanka and her hubby had a similar reaction. Worst of all, the clapping just wouldn't stop. You could tell after awhile the widow wanted to sit down, but Donald wasn't going to let that happen-no sirree, not when a record was involved. So the macabre scene played on and on and on..Donny must have been figuring the record breaking applause would make up for the fallen soldier's father who had refused to meet with him and has requested an inquiry into his son's death. Yup Donny's nothing if not shameless..
Maud
M,
ReplyDeleteOn the other hand, the Donald has been criticized for a short attention span. Here he was willing to just allow the moment to play itself out and he kept stoking the fire. Record breaking applause from the Congress and the galleries. For a puffy white man, he hung in there. And Van Jones or some name like that said it was the most extraordinary Presidential moment EVER. Which just goes to show...something.
Phantom