Of Course, Reality TV Is Not Real


So the NY Times finally got around to pointing out that the executive branch of the United States government is just a reality television show that currently has no end; said end will only come with the President resigning or being impeached, with his dipshit daughter and son-in-law following him out the door (if they don’t bail first and turn over on him) with an exodus of the other cabinet secretaries whose qualification for their job is they don’t know anything about their job except how to rip off the government for hundreds of thousands of dollars, followed by the true believers like Kellyanne Conway and Jeff (Mr. Burns) Miller. The sponsors of this show are the 62 million people who voted for Donnie. The thing is, they can’t vote him out. They can’t just decide to not watch. The same narcissism, defensiveness, bigotry, cruelty and  fixation on adulation that made him kind of amusing on The Apprentice and riveting in an all-out shit-show kind of way during the campaign is now something that is everywhere, a sick, fear-engendering miasma.

It’s likely that many of these people thought that what they saw on The Apprentice is what they would see in the White House because the mass/social/self-referential media have blurred all the lines. In the Bob Dylan song “The Gates of Eden” “The princess and the prince discuss what’s real and what is not. It doesn’t matter inside the gates of Eden.”  The NYT article points out that when the Donnie schtick was on TV it was actually more controlled than it is in the White House because everyone knows he’s crazy but nobody wants to do anything about it.  On TV, if Crazy Donnie isn’t selling tacos or feminine hygiene products like he was, he’s outta there.

The script for The 45th Presidency: Nightmare or Revelation? is familiar. Goofy, unlikely guy ends up in a position no one thought he could rise to through a bizarre series of perfect stormettes. His fans think his boorish name-calling is funny and admire the fact that he’ll say just about anything in public. The nerve of that guy! Damn!  He is so disrespectful of his new job that he figures he can do the new job and the old job at the same time, making him tens of millions of dollars in the process. This leads to all sorts of hilarious hijinks with Donnie and the swamp occupiers in DC. Scenes that don’t involve Donnie are centered on his progeny and their arrogant, spoiled-rich-brat head-butting with Nobel Prize winners and media personalities who have advanced degrees from Oxford instead of a series of jobs that involve nothing but looking good for the camera, starting at KBMF in Bumfuck, Iowa.

The President is on his third trophy wife, and her scenes create a lot of dramatic tension because The White House is the last fucking place on earth she wants to be, and she hates Donnie for doing this to her. In the next scene she is always smiling at some event, trying desperately to act like she cares. We, the viewers, know better. Even in the age of crass invasions of privacy, the son of Donnie and Melania does not appear on this show.  It is uncertain whether this fact is the result of the last tiny shred of decency in society holding things together or the fact that The Viewers (Donnie’s base) would object to the son being part of the show because after all, showing an innocent kid who is dragged into this insanity is a major buzzkill and not funny.  At all.

Roughly 35 percent of the people in the United States enjoy this show and think its star is doing a fantastic job if only those pointy-headed media types would quit harping on every little thing he does. Another 35 percent hate the show and think its star is an illiterate,  dangerous megalomaniac who is an embarrassment on the world stage. The future of The 45th Presidency: Nightmare or Revelation? beyond 2020 obviously depends on the remaining 30 percent. Will they even care by then?

© 2017 Joseph Galligan


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