My writing system is somewhat reminiscent of the cooking method I used to employ in my bachelor days, where I would throw things into my pot, or (if the pot was dirty) into my pan, and heat them up on the stove while adding other things and stirring. Eventually I would stop cooking and eat. I often start a piece about something that catches my eye or ear, and then I'm reminded of some other aspect to it, and I mention some things that have been under my skin for a while, and finally I look at the time and I've written a huge long screed without mentioning the original theme at all. Today I'm struck by a bunch of little things in the media.
TAILOR CONTACTS SATAN FOR VARIOUS REASONS
On my phone, I get these little headlines in minuscule digest form so I can keep up between morning newspapers. I've tried to tailor this digest to my preferences, but it hasn't been an entirely successful tailoring. (On the old Thriller TV show, there was an episode where a tailor tried to bring his dead son back to life in a manner that wouldn't occur to most of us-- he made an evil suit using black magic; it involved evil thread, I think, and evil buttons, and so forth. That's the kind of tailoring I've been doing.) Yesterday, I was about to click on a headline about the Ariana Grande bombing, when a headline about video of Melania slapping the President's hand away popped up. It took every ounce of self control I had to not click on that one. Then I looked at the two headlines, competing for my attention on my phone (or, as my mom used to call it, my "little machine") and thought about how fucked up we've become.
GOP IS LIKE A PSYCHOTIC NURSE (This may seem inflammatory, but it's just a metaphor)
This morning I read an article about how health care in Iowa is doomed, because the GOP there opted out, or opted in, or some kind of opting, and thus made it virtually impossible for "Obamacare" to succeed. Even Catherine Rampell's excellent prose and analysis, with its youthful vigor, couldn't entice me to do much more than skim this piece, as it seemed disturbingly and dully familiar. Perhaps a kindly Republican can explain to me why I shouldn't conclude that the failure of Obamacare they keep moaning about isn't like a psychotic nurse slowly poisoning her wealthy dowager patient. And perhaps in this metaphor it's unfair to see the GOP as a Joan Crawford type. If I were the GOP, I'd rather be compared to Barbara Stanwyck, who could be evil but sexy. She had the kind of voice that was like sinister honey, whereas Joan's voice was shrill and sounded like someone near the end of her rope. Barbara tended to convey that she had many evil years ahead of her, and if you wanted to you could hang around and watch. Not if you were the patient, of course, because of all the arsenic. (Is arsenic the one that smells a little like almonds, or is that strychnine? Curare is the one typically administered with a blowgun, so the murderer can be standing outside the building; that's all I know for sure.)
ARTICLE ABOUT SMALL TOWN PERSPECTIVE READS LIKE A CITY SLICKER GAWKING AT RUBES
Another article involved a Post reporter traveling to one of the many small towns whose economy has been wrecked by liberals. Obese locals were interviewed, as always, at a diner, where the presence of coffee and Formica loosened their tongues. The main thing revealed was that Americans don't read, and even television is wearying for them if "Washington" is discussed too much. Onsite political analysis excerpted in the article included the observations that many world leaders are too tough for an American woman to negotiate with, and that Trump hasn't been given a chance to shine because of the media, Washington, etc. It's these types of utterances that have convinced me that no amount of incompetence and corruption on Trump's part will result in his most dedicated voters changing their minds about him. The narrative many of them cling to is that Trump is trying to do all the things he said he'd do, but he's hamstrung at every turn by dot dot dot. If Trump is impeached, he'll be a martyr figure forever. The nagging concern persists, however, that reporters may not be talking to the small town folks that do read and engage in critical thinking. I recall a moment at Howard when a bunch of students were listening to a radio news report where an African-American was being interviewed in the aftermath of some event. The interviewee was less than articulate, like many people a reporter can easily find standing around on the street, and a Howard student rolled her eyes and asked rhetorically, "Why do they always pick the most country-ass (EPITHET EXPUNGED) to talk to?" That question remains rhetorical to this day, and with a slight rewording can be applied to these Podunk Diner articles.
TAILOR CONTACTS SATAN FOR VARIOUS REASONS
On my phone, I get these little headlines in minuscule digest form so I can keep up between morning newspapers. I've tried to tailor this digest to my preferences, but it hasn't been an entirely successful tailoring. (On the old Thriller TV show, there was an episode where a tailor tried to bring his dead son back to life in a manner that wouldn't occur to most of us-- he made an evil suit using black magic; it involved evil thread, I think, and evil buttons, and so forth. That's the kind of tailoring I've been doing.) Yesterday, I was about to click on a headline about the Ariana Grande bombing, when a headline about video of Melania slapping the President's hand away popped up. It took every ounce of self control I had to not click on that one. Then I looked at the two headlines, competing for my attention on my phone (or, as my mom used to call it, my "little machine") and thought about how fucked up we've become.
GOP IS LIKE A PSYCHOTIC NURSE (This may seem inflammatory, but it's just a metaphor)
This morning I read an article about how health care in Iowa is doomed, because the GOP there opted out, or opted in, or some kind of opting, and thus made it virtually impossible for "Obamacare" to succeed. Even Catherine Rampell's excellent prose and analysis, with its youthful vigor, couldn't entice me to do much more than skim this piece, as it seemed disturbingly and dully familiar. Perhaps a kindly Republican can explain to me why I shouldn't conclude that the failure of Obamacare they keep moaning about isn't like a psychotic nurse slowly poisoning her wealthy dowager patient. And perhaps in this metaphor it's unfair to see the GOP as a Joan Crawford type. If I were the GOP, I'd rather be compared to Barbara Stanwyck, who could be evil but sexy. She had the kind of voice that was like sinister honey, whereas Joan's voice was shrill and sounded like someone near the end of her rope. Barbara tended to convey that she had many evil years ahead of her, and if you wanted to you could hang around and watch. Not if you were the patient, of course, because of all the arsenic. (Is arsenic the one that smells a little like almonds, or is that strychnine? Curare is the one typically administered with a blowgun, so the murderer can be standing outside the building; that's all I know for sure.)
ARTICLE ABOUT SMALL TOWN PERSPECTIVE READS LIKE A CITY SLICKER GAWKING AT RUBES
Another article involved a Post reporter traveling to one of the many small towns whose economy has been wrecked by liberals. Obese locals were interviewed, as always, at a diner, where the presence of coffee and Formica loosened their tongues. The main thing revealed was that Americans don't read, and even television is wearying for them if "Washington" is discussed too much. Onsite political analysis excerpted in the article included the observations that many world leaders are too tough for an American woman to negotiate with, and that Trump hasn't been given a chance to shine because of the media, Washington, etc. It's these types of utterances that have convinced me that no amount of incompetence and corruption on Trump's part will result in his most dedicated voters changing their minds about him. The narrative many of them cling to is that Trump is trying to do all the things he said he'd do, but he's hamstrung at every turn by dot dot dot. If Trump is impeached, he'll be a martyr figure forever. The nagging concern persists, however, that reporters may not be talking to the small town folks that do read and engage in critical thinking. I recall a moment at Howard when a bunch of students were listening to a radio news report where an African-American was being interviewed in the aftermath of some event. The interviewee was less than articulate, like many people a reporter can easily find standing around on the street, and a Howard student rolled her eyes and asked rhetorically, "Why do they always pick the most country-ass (EPITHET EXPUNGED) to talk to?" That question remains rhetorical to this day, and with a slight rewording can be applied to these Podunk Diner articles.
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