It’s 2020, and when have we ever been so immersed in the daily media onslaught of political noise & partisan divisiveness? The narrative flows constantly 24/7 and all we can do is passively absorb the torrent of clashing punditry, White House scandal, Impeachment, etc. etc, ad nauseam. However, there are alternatives. WE ARE THE MEDIA!
In the age of TRUMPological Episodic Drama, performance is reality, and reality is performance. We have lost all notion of the real in the impeachment saga. We are now deep in the cinematic spectacle. The Trial of the Century has been rendered as a mini-series with a cast of colorful, sordid characters that grips our attention daily, hourly!, with the most lurid details.
When artists emerge from their studios to use the public space as their canvas, things can get dangerously interesting. Art is traditionally a sequestered activity. You know, the romantic notion that the artist holed up in their atelier studio bathes in the silence of the night to create impossible images of the imagination. On the other hand, there is another path for artistic creation.
On the one hand, there is the corrosive effect of Celebrity, which infiltrates & corrupts the human spirit through intrigue & scandal. We have already seen how this infiltration can worm its way into the political process to induce monstrous manipulation of the body politic. Celebrity can easily be weaponized and used to destroy the values that make us human, by appealing to an adrenalized stimulation of hatred and divisiveness. We have seen this in full force with XTreme TRUMPology. But there is another kind of Celebrity, that which appeals to our better angels, those who use their Star Power to rally hope, determination, and to challenge the corruption of greed, war and environmental destruction.
New Year’s reflection on the endless journey to the core of things. Navigating through the twists + turns, the pitfalls, the revelations, the bad mistakes, the fatal errors, but maybe, just maybe, this is essential to a direction that has no end point. The waves of doubt that accompany this journey are no more or less relevant than the fleeting moments of euphoria + revelation.
Was the TRUMP impeachment a flaccid exercise in Congressional futility, a spit in the ocean, a tree falling in the silence of the forest? We saw TRUMP in his showbiz post-real mindset claiming it doesn’t “feel like impeachment,” or claiming it “impeachment-lite” as he blithely referred to how it felt to be only the third impeached president in American history. It might appear on the surface that nothing seemed to substantially change after the Congressional spanking was completed with the bang of Nancy Pelosi’s gavel.