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There’s no business like showbusiness

The Donald Trump Show Has Always Been Hollywood’s Greatest Hit

We will be champions in the centuries to come. These times won’t pass us by with a quick hello and a beeline for the recycling bin.

If you’re sleeping through the rage of this terrific climate that exacerbates all the metaphors that were faithfully dormant — ease your breath with the silence that overcomes — after sitting through the greatest story ever told.

President Trump didn’t commit a crime when he won the highest office of the land. You didn’t elect him on a whim. His ascension to the throne was always in the cards — they just needed to be dealt in a timely fashion.

We moan with clicks and lick our lips with hunger and hate. We survive from the thrush of saliva from the restless animal enchained by the laws that keep him comfortably legal.

Trump’’s violent reign of contempt and ineptitude will become the orchestral script from which producers will scan and blink into memory.

The chips will fall where they may — and the synopsis that digs into the societal breeches of a nation at war with itself, with the aid of a yellow-haired flushed out monster — will be everything the Academy honors with golden confetti and nominations for a cast that looks and acts the part.

Hollywood has always been a cesspool for anything resembling the 24/7-horror show that streams without ratings or the mongering of the grand finale.

The America that Trump is currently fermenting at the expense of law and order and everything that the anthem conceives with pride — has always been the slot machine for film executives.

They plot how to keep their industry cleansed from the outside forces that threaten to indulge the vibe of diversity through the tunnels of accuracy.

Let’s think about this for a minute.

We are in commotion as we watch the most powerful man in the world surround himself with an army of recruits that have been selected to taunt naysayers with blatancy and the vile realization of their worthlessness.

By no means can we compare real life emergencies to the dramatic tidings of a screenplay that calls for a hero to show up at call time — at the crack of dawn for the benefit of entourage and crew.

We also can’t pretend that our lives haven’t become somewhat of a blur as the lines that used to separate fiction from non-fiction have blended to create a stain — that punctuates platforms that were created by our vivid need to become exactly what we are not.

You pretend that it is enough to obey the brands that pay you to mock up your existence with images of splendor and the bylines that trump any doubt that you’re ballin.

We hashtag our way through highs and lows as we categorize the emotions of success and vindication as a way to tag our entry into a specific club — that only members with enough likes can even dare to venture.

It’s Hollywood baby! The high-life.

It’s the audacity to cast roles with no respect or dutiful thought to what the threads of reason represent when you have White men and White women reporting to set with makeup that has been drenched in fake sweat — to birth the warrior stance of a Hawaiian native or a half Asian explorer, or an Egyptian Queen — or anything that doesn’t quite fit into the box that always seems to have white spaces posing as poisonous hooks — in case of contamination.

The tragedy of Hollywood is the greed that allows for character betrayal with expensive falsehood and total disregard for moviegoers — who want to pay for entertainment, but are challenged by a system that thrives off of keeping White actors employed and ethnic actors deported or gated till further notice.

Hollywood is Trump’s playground and the industry will reward him accordingly.

The currency is the same along with the value for Whiteness and the richness that is amassed from banking on its rewards each time a role needs to be filled.

From the cabinet to the WWII epic to the weakness of diversity that won’t ever need sanctimonious bastards to adhere — nature will do all the fucking.

The greatest story ever told will be lectured by brown, black, and blue black scribes that waited a mighty long time for America to be great again — in order to coin a full cast with a lead that was supposed to sport yellow-hair and a flushed skin tone, but as we know rules are meant to be broken.

It’s fucking time to break them.

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Written by

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say! https://medium.com/membership https://www.patreon.com/Ezziegirl

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