THE APPRESIDENCY — a review of season one.

This morning, after Super Tuesday, I was amused to find that Dictionary.com’s word of the day was:

rodomontade
  1. vainglorious boasting orbragging; pretentious,blustering talk.
  2. bragging.
  3. to boast; brag; talk big.

…A thinly veiled reference to the Republican front-runner, one can hardly doubt.

The word trump is related to triumph. In his world, The Donald is living his manifest destiny. And because small minds focus and amplify the flow of conviction like the nozzle on a hose, that conviction is powerful, especially in the estimation of onlookers who perceive their own hoses to be obstructed –by some shadowy behemoth they have little capacity to clearly see, but still have the power to blame. The power of blame is seemingly one of the last at their disposal, and certainly the easiest. Especially when the mighty blow-hard hose before them is modeling it so confidently.

Trump  starred in a “Reality T.V.” show called The Apprentice. He lives in a world of winners and losers. That is what most popular reality shows are about. Most of the media in fact is a hypnotism based on a hierarchy of winners and losers. In fact,  it might be said that the consensus reality we share in this culture, or on this planet, is framed in terms of winners and losers.

All “reality” we seem to see objectively out there is a product of perception, interpretation codified into a consensus reality. And the one we have inherited, and continue to choose,  is a “reality” founded on a scarcity consciousness  in which creatures must prey on one another to survive, one that turns God into a parent who plays favorites, withholds love and pits creatures against one another.

Swimming in this cosmology as one’s home ocean, it is nigh impossible to see– much less believe, embrace or BE– the best a human can be. As social creatures, we are susceptible to the domino effect.

Our media panders to this lowest common denominator and is a machine for manufactured conflict.

Judging from  the accepted narrative of human history, and the current enthusiasm demonstrated by a disheartening number of American people, not only have we lost the ability to distinguish between reality and perception, we have lost the ability to distinguish between what is reality and what is Reality T.V.

It makes sense. As a society, we are addicted to T.V./media, and we get our ostensibly factual information and news from the same source as our fiction and entertainment. They blur. Some of this entertainment we call, with waning irony, “Reality T.V.” And Donald Trump is a luminary of that false firmament.

We are turning this election campaign, which, in the consensus reality effects everything on the planet, into a reality T.V. show; nothing more.

Imagine a planetarium that has introduced additional celestial bodies into its representation of the sky. No one bothers to go outside anymore, because they have this facsimile in climate-controlled conditions, with cell reception and refreshments. They accept the facsimile as a reliable version of cosmos, and they don’t bother to go outside–or within– and check.

This is our predicament.

If a president of a nation is elected to lead and represent the best of a people, to model the highest potential of humanity, what is Donald Trump? Now, I don’t know the fellow personally, but it strikes me that he represents the worst of humanity, an egregious step backward into a frozen, selfish adolescence.

And as a country, we are mired in the frozen adolescence of a society allowed to become a bully before it matured. Growing up, at this point, looks like untenable sacrifice. So, of course, we might want to throw in with the loudest bully, to fall in behind the charge of the most blusterous bull, under the protective flag and fanfare of Blamefulness, in order to trample all that antagonizes us “out there.”  Alas, falling in behind such a lot of Bull, obscures the way ahead. I fear it is off a cliff. But that may be the humbling we require as a people to re-join the human race, which, at its best, isn’t a race at all, it is a dance.

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