Why SNL’s Emmy Win Gives Trump The Last Laugh
I didn’t watch The Emmys because I find award shows boring. I’d rather rush through clips and rely on the stream of updates on Twitter.
The fashion part is always fun — but even the red carpet action has lost its luster (Joan Rivers was the shit!) and so again — I let the platform of my choice do all the work.
The best of The Emmys as far as I can tell was how ridiculously amazing SNL star — Leslie Jones looked — as she sashayed for the cameras in a stunning ensemble by American designer, Christian Siriano.
Siriano and Jones forged a gorgeous bond when Jones tweeted about how she couldn’t find a designer to outfit her for the premiere of her 2016 film — Ghostbusters:
Siriano — the season four winner of Project Runway — read the tweet — and immediately connected with his future client. Since then — they’ve been inseparable and by the looks of things — this is a match made in heaven. Jones who recently turned fifty — looked sensational — and there is nothing better than sweet revenge!
Another unlikely candidate who is certainly enjoying a belly full of laughs and vengeful pleasure is President Trump.
Sean Spicer — the former White House press secretary — who spent enough months — sounding like a rehearsed lunatic — made a surprise appearance at the televised ceremony that celebrates the excellence of an industry that is constantly basked in make-believe.
Hollywood is the ultimate wizard — where the tricks stay the same as long as the results bleed out slot machines.
When Spicer appeared on stage — the bedazzled audience — despite all that needlework — managed to contort their faces in disbelief — as the unfunny man rolled onto his segment with satisfying confidence.
The morning after — was an onslaught of abuse from popular outlets — who’ve banded together to attack Hollywood — and the culture that created permission to bypass the urgencies of a wilting nation — in favor of comical relief.
My favorite is CNN’s entry — which calls out Hollywood for “enabling” Sean Spicer — and all the filth that he represents as Trump’s former and present guard dog.
The truth is that we all participated in the best that Hollywood has to offer and we did it willingly.
We had a bloody good time watching Alec Baldwin nail his impersonations of a man we loathe. Kate McKinnon was outstanding as Hillary Clinton — and undoubtedly her career will continue to blossom. And Melissa McCarthy made Spicer her bitch each time she roared into the creepy den of incoherence.
SNL killed it at Emmys 2017. The esteemed variety show that is basically an institution at this point — took home four awards — with two allotted to both Baldwin and McKinnon.
Most of you are convinced that Spicer’s addition to the telecast somehow elevates the climate of disarray that we’re trying to vanquish. The article in CNN slams Hollywood’s superficiality and hampering inability to distinguish between entertainment and real life”
“the entire thing was a massive validation for Spicer.”
It goes on to delve into a very interesting assessment about how our society has evolved into a spirited and shameless web of indulgence — that can’t be thwarted by the threats of a conscience:
“What Spicer’s Emmy appearance proved is that in our culture, fame and infamy are indistinguishable. All that matters is that you are famous. How you got there doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even matter whether people are saying bad things or good things about you. It just matters that they are talking about you.”
The essay was written with passionate insistence that is sprouted by the insatiable goal to point the sore finger at the bad guys — while we consistently mop up our mess. Sometimes we get all cleaned up — and then often times — the spill spreads into places of discomfort.
For those of us who watched with glee — as America’s favorite past time became a fiesta of punch lines and what seemed like the endless “fuck you” to the persons of our nightmares — we can’t bank on wiping the stain of atonement.
We are all part of the culture that needs an escape. Something to take the edge off after a hectic election season and the reality of impending doom after the results are verified.
What better way to destress than to initiate the tradition of comical relief.
We all deserve an Emmy. We transformed the worst of ourselves into the best version we could muster — when we encouraged SNL’s new money-making venture into existence — with the creation of a laugh fest that supposedly mocks the Commander-in-Charge — but only serves as the template of how he got there in the first place.
If Kim Kardashian can rule the world — then by golly we have to accept that we don’t give a fuck how you got here — all that matters is how we can turn you into gold.
And SNL is currently splashing in the gold rush that we helped to finesse when we dutifully watched the skits — that were designed to make Trump look like shit — and yet I’m the one who feels that way.
You should feel pretty shitty too — when you calculate how you enabled the environment that allows for the merging of two worlds that should never righteously climax. Watching Alec Baldwin skewer his subject — is the exact same reasoning that inspired Emmy host Stephen Colbert — to ask Sean Spicer to join the night of a thousand stars.
It’s show business!
We recognized the brilliance of those that were assigned to present caricatures of our real life terror — and we didn’t stop to imagine how our allegiance normalizes the hostile territory that we’re currently inhabiting with the aid of Instagram.
It’s beyond whacky to condemn Spicer’s delicious surprise at an event that is formulated by the very standards that almost all of us adhere to. You can’t demonstrate your support for SNL’s superb calling in the realm of satirical fare — and then brutalize the very thing you think you can’t stand.
Sean Spicer is by no means the punch line in the messy comedic fodder that stars all of us in roles — that make us look like the stylized bots we’ve become.
Laughter is hearty and gratifying — especially when its at the expense of those accused. It’s impossible to reject the notion of tuning in to watch the hilarious dramatization of how Hollywood will always win — even when the ones making them rich — can’t fathom how rotting souls carry the best scent.
Imagine where we would be — if we all decided to ignore Baldwin’s spot on grimace or McKinnon’s striking stance as the future first female president of America.
Imagine how insane it would be if enough of us rejected the offer to transform real life stories into sketches of success for the generous vultures — that feed a population — hungry for anything that can keep the dullness of existence — shiny with surrender.
The moment Trump became SNL’s mascot — we sold out.
But Hollywood shouldn’t be blamed for doing what it does best. And we can’t be too hard on ourselves for the hypocritical approach that is currently burning up the internet.
Only two things are for certain: Leslie Jones is a goddess and Trump will never stop laughing — until you do.