From the inception…
Posted September 17, 2015on:
Inception is on just about everyone’s list of top ten movies that you must watch at least twice to understand. All told that would be about five hours worth of viewing confusion to produce this premise: Reality is a relative concept.
Inception is about a guy named Cobb and his team of con artists. Their con is to construct a false reality and manipulate it in order to confuse and deceive their “mark”. They use dreams within dreams to accomplish their deceit. The mind is the scene of the crime. Like I said, you need to see it at least twice.
Then there are a couple of songs by Carole King (a personal fave rave) that happened to occupy both sides on the same record back before music arrived over the intertubz via trained electrons. One song is It’s Too Late:
Stayed in bed all morning just to pass the time
There’s something wrong here, there can be no denying
One of us is changing, or maybe we’ve stopped trying
And it’s too late, baby, now it’s too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can’t hide
And I just can’t fake it
I feel the earth move under my feet
I feel the sky tumbling down, tumbling down
I feel my heart start to trembling
Whenever you’re around
Oh, darling, when you’re near me
And you tenderly call my name
I know that my emotions
Are something I just can’t tame
Here’s where I’m going with this: If the three of them, the movie and the two songs had a baby, it would be last night’s Republican debate.
There’s no doubt reality was a relative concept last night. It was all about the enticement of Republican primary voters toward a hard, hard right veering of the clown car. Something has died within the Republican Party, not the least of which is the semblance of a moral compass, but the emotional appeal of whatever is going on just can’t be tamed. There is no denying it.
I won’t begin to dissect the three hours, really five hours if you count the 6:00 baby debate with the four pre-operative Golden Girls, but here are a few examples:
- A candidate for President of these United States pretty much said, “The Supreme Court can’t be the boss of me.” Let that sink in for a minute – a candidate for President says he will blow off the Supreme Court.
- It was the “ice bucket challenge” of who can “out neocon” or be the “neoconiest”. It went something like this: “I can start a war here” – “Well, I’ll see your war and raise you unilateral air strikes” – “I’ll see your war and air strikes, and raise you a military build-up unprecedented in the history of mankind.” I always love it when the candidates talk about bombing people back to the Stone Age – a time when tablets were slightly less technical than the ones we use today.
- Then there was all the talk about insulting appearances. Really, that did happen – who said what about whom and whether or not it was justified. This is only going to get worse as we get closer to the 8th grade dance.
- And the coup de grace was the Jesus Sharia Law that seemed generally acceptable to everyone. If Jesus was the theocrat in the change to theocratic rule everyone seemed to be down with that, but everyone still seemed to have a problem with a ‘Murican Ayatollah.
There were plenty of sideshows like Gentle Ben Carson’s incessant blinking of messages via his tele-eyelids, all the drive-by shushing of candidates by other candidates, bickering about who was the “more badder” business person, and the copious amounts of collateral ejaculate let fly for “all the candidates who are better than that mean, old witch Hillary” produced by that sperm whale calling himself Hugh Hewitt (or as Forrest Trump calls him – Yoooooouge!)
The one constant was all the love, nothin’ but love, for Raygun and Kim Davis. When Raygun decides he’s had enough of the dirt napping thing, I’m sure there will be a remake of Bedtime for Bonzo co-starring the inimitable “not lovin’ the little gay boys and girls” Ms. Davis.
I just can’t do the debate justice. Y’all need to help capture the true flavor of what happened last night in Simi Valley. What made an impression on you and/or what scars led you into the nearest plastic surgeon’s office?
Take us to any place, to any issue, you might feel compelled to explore.
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