- Jun 30, 2004
- 15,722
- 1,454
- 126
I really didn’t think much of it when Obama was presenting the Medal of Freedom to various well-known people maybe a week ago. All that time, the President knew all the details of the CIA report. He had plenty of time to become familiar with Donald Trump – his history, his business, his industry – his prototype. I think he was holding his own “intelligence briefings” close to the vest.
He probably calculated that revealing what he knew before the election would taint his credibility with suspicions that followed FBI Director Comey’s revelations about Hillary’s e-mails: inappropriately influencing the election outcome.
But what would be fair? What would be right? And how would it all play out after the election? And now, for the first time we’d ever remember among my own generation, Electoral College voters are coming forward vowing to flip their votes against Donald Trump. Before the other day, speculations about any chance the Electoral College would deny Trump the White House were unrealistic with a very small likelihood. Now, with maybe a month to go, one can’t be so sure either way.
I do remember watching as Robert De Niro stepped up to take his medal. He was nonchalant – almost chilly and indifferent. After the Prez put the medal around De Niro’s neck, he gave the President a big hug. The President, for whatever was in his mind, didn’t have a spotlight opportunity to display his poker face as he did at a White House Correspondent’s dinner, offering up jokes to his audience and knowing full well that he would soon be in a room with others watching video feeds of Osama bin Laden’s final moments.
But it still didn’t sink in, until I was able to catch the presentation on HBO of the movie “Heist,” featuring De Niro as “Pope” – a casino tycoon operating in a wide underworld of people who worked for him. It brought to mind his roles in “Heat” and “Casino.” All fictional characters, some parallel to Donald Trump’s business history.
A few days later, I caught the last half of the “Cape Fear” remake – with De Niro’s memorable portrayal of Max Cady, the evil cornpone rapist and ex-convict, overshadowing Robert Mitchum in the original film. Sometimes, even the fictional villain of a film or novel becomes a vehicle for script-lines of Truth.
And that nails it – from the ending scenes of the film, coming around full circle to the present emerging news frenzy:
“I'm Virgil --- and I'm guiding you through the gates of Hell!
We are now in the 9th Circle -- the Circle of Trai-tors!
Traitors to country!
Traitors to fellow man!
Traitors to God!
You, sir...are charged with betrayin' the principles of all three! [He gives Nick Nolte another kick in the head.]
So, perhaps soon losing the support of McCain, McConnell, Graham and others, the newest development in the campaign aftermath – Ladies and Gentlemen! – may I present --- I give you . . . . Traitor Trump! TRAI-TOR! TRA-I-TOR! TRAAAI-TOR!!!
GUESS WHO . . . HAS . . . . THE HIGH GROUND NOW?!!!! We who suspect what we’re saying:
TRAI-I-I-TORS!!! TRA-I-I-I-TORS!!
And now I know how to deal with the Trumpies with whom I do business, when I’d been thinking to give them abrupt notice that they would no longer have that business, and why.
“Gotchur Traitor in the White House?! Good for you! Ya got yur Traitor in the White House! Does ya proud, don’ it?! Must be proud to be a Quisling, ain’ it? So that’s the country ya voted for – good luck to you, buddy! Well – you’re good at what I pay you for. But don’t leave town! May be, that the FBI wants to interview any Commie Dupes among us!”
Last night, I had the first good dream in deep sleep I ever remember over several years. I was my 70-year-old self, visiting a donut shop across town in the middle of a sunny morning, and I met up with a young attractive police-woman in uniform less than half my age. She gave me her phone number. That was it – the whole dream, ending in a scrap of paper, a first name and a phone number. Then I woke up, realized there was no scrap of paper, and caught the ending scenes on my TV with James Caan in the original “Killer Elite” about a CIA contract killer. As Caan and Burt Young sail away under the Golden Gate Bridge, I flipped the channel to the stark reality of Smerconish on CNN. He was commenting on the latest CIA intelligence revelations, noting that Trump’s response to them seemed “almost treasonous.”
Should we worry now about speaking our mind about Trump, fearful of vengeful tweets such as those directed last week at the union president Chuck Jones? Worried that we’ll need to take time out to attend our tax audit? Worried that our social security check won’t appear on time in our bank account? Worried that a family member in ill health supported by Affordable Care will be left in the lurch? And worried that our country is being flushed down a “great-again” toilet?
I doubt it. Trai-tor! Trai-i-tor! Traitor and Russian Mole on the White House doorstep! Traitor to God! Traitor to Country! Traitor to Fellow Man!! Republicans support a Traitor! The Tory Quislings got their Traitor in the White House!
Stranger than fiction, but it isn’t fantasy, is it? I may enjoy my movies; I may remember a lot of script-lines. But I know the difference between fiction and fact.
And so does the Central Intelligence Agency. Who ya gonna belief? Mr. Orangutan Hair?!
String 'Im Up! String 'Im Up!
Or just hold still for the Electoral College, or anything that follows whatever the outcome.
He probably calculated that revealing what he knew before the election would taint his credibility with suspicions that followed FBI Director Comey’s revelations about Hillary’s e-mails: inappropriately influencing the election outcome.
But what would be fair? What would be right? And how would it all play out after the election? And now, for the first time we’d ever remember among my own generation, Electoral College voters are coming forward vowing to flip their votes against Donald Trump. Before the other day, speculations about any chance the Electoral College would deny Trump the White House were unrealistic with a very small likelihood. Now, with maybe a month to go, one can’t be so sure either way.
I do remember watching as Robert De Niro stepped up to take his medal. He was nonchalant – almost chilly and indifferent. After the Prez put the medal around De Niro’s neck, he gave the President a big hug. The President, for whatever was in his mind, didn’t have a spotlight opportunity to display his poker face as he did at a White House Correspondent’s dinner, offering up jokes to his audience and knowing full well that he would soon be in a room with others watching video feeds of Osama bin Laden’s final moments.
But it still didn’t sink in, until I was able to catch the presentation on HBO of the movie “Heist,” featuring De Niro as “Pope” – a casino tycoon operating in a wide underworld of people who worked for him. It brought to mind his roles in “Heat” and “Casino.” All fictional characters, some parallel to Donald Trump’s business history.
A few days later, I caught the last half of the “Cape Fear” remake – with De Niro’s memorable portrayal of Max Cady, the evil cornpone rapist and ex-convict, overshadowing Robert Mitchum in the original film. Sometimes, even the fictional villain of a film or novel becomes a vehicle for script-lines of Truth.
And that nails it – from the ending scenes of the film, coming around full circle to the present emerging news frenzy:
“I'm Virgil --- and I'm guiding you through the gates of Hell!
We are now in the 9th Circle -- the Circle of Trai-tors!
Traitors to country!
Traitors to fellow man!
Traitors to God!
You, sir...are charged with betrayin' the principles of all three! [He gives Nick Nolte another kick in the head.]
So, perhaps soon losing the support of McCain, McConnell, Graham and others, the newest development in the campaign aftermath – Ladies and Gentlemen! – may I present --- I give you . . . . Traitor Trump! TRAI-TOR! TRA-I-TOR! TRAAAI-TOR!!!
GUESS WHO . . . HAS . . . . THE HIGH GROUND NOW?!!!! We who suspect what we’re saying:
TRAI-I-I-TORS!!! TRA-I-I-I-TORS!!
And now I know how to deal with the Trumpies with whom I do business, when I’d been thinking to give them abrupt notice that they would no longer have that business, and why.
“Gotchur Traitor in the White House?! Good for you! Ya got yur Traitor in the White House! Does ya proud, don’ it?! Must be proud to be a Quisling, ain’ it? So that’s the country ya voted for – good luck to you, buddy! Well – you’re good at what I pay you for. But don’t leave town! May be, that the FBI wants to interview any Commie Dupes among us!”
Last night, I had the first good dream in deep sleep I ever remember over several years. I was my 70-year-old self, visiting a donut shop across town in the middle of a sunny morning, and I met up with a young attractive police-woman in uniform less than half my age. She gave me her phone number. That was it – the whole dream, ending in a scrap of paper, a first name and a phone number. Then I woke up, realized there was no scrap of paper, and caught the ending scenes on my TV with James Caan in the original “Killer Elite” about a CIA contract killer. As Caan and Burt Young sail away under the Golden Gate Bridge, I flipped the channel to the stark reality of Smerconish on CNN. He was commenting on the latest CIA intelligence revelations, noting that Trump’s response to them seemed “almost treasonous.”
Should we worry now about speaking our mind about Trump, fearful of vengeful tweets such as those directed last week at the union president Chuck Jones? Worried that we’ll need to take time out to attend our tax audit? Worried that our social security check won’t appear on time in our bank account? Worried that a family member in ill health supported by Affordable Care will be left in the lurch? And worried that our country is being flushed down a “great-again” toilet?
I doubt it. Trai-tor! Trai-i-tor! Traitor and Russian Mole on the White House doorstep! Traitor to God! Traitor to Country! Traitor to Fellow Man!! Republicans support a Traitor! The Tory Quislings got their Traitor in the White House!
Stranger than fiction, but it isn’t fantasy, is it? I may enjoy my movies; I may remember a lot of script-lines. But I know the difference between fiction and fact.
And so does the Central Intelligence Agency. Who ya gonna belief? Mr. Orangutan Hair?!
String 'Im Up! String 'Im Up!
Or just hold still for the Electoral College, or anything that follows whatever the outcome.
Facebook
Twitter