Apocalypse Now?

I don’t pay much attention to the current president’s tweets because:

  1. They’re usually meant to distract from something else much more important.
  2. They’re usually mind-numbingly juvenile and as an “older person” I don’t like to waste my remaining years with stupid.
  3. They’re usually an empty threat or a lie.
That’s about enough of that

But when, on Saturday, he co-opted Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now poster and dialogue to make a joke threat of invading the great American city of Chicago – a town where I went to grad school, lived in briefly in my early twenties, and formed key lasting friendships over more than four decades, he pissed me off.

Royally.

Though royalty is something he will never be no matter how much he tries to act like King George III.

Anyway, I hate to reprint him (Note: POTUS, not the Real King) but desperate times call for desperate measures when you sense danger.   So here it is.

This is real. This is our president.

Some observations:

  1. When the president of a country thinks it’s cool to declare “war” on an American city – metaphorically, in reality or both – it’s time to stop what you’re doing and pay attention. (Note: You are allowed, however, to watch the men’s U.S. Open’s Final Sunday because we don’t want to ruin EVERYTHING good).
Rooting for Mr. Handsome

2. This POTUS renamed our Department of Defense to our Department of War by executive order on Friday even though it’s not official and not legal since that power lies with Congress.  So clearly he’s signaling how he’s planning to “rule” unless he’s stopped.

3. The ad he’s “parodying” features a black-hearted but fictional U.S. lieutenant colonel during the Vietnam War who famously said, I love the smell of napalm in the morning.  It was a piece of dialogue illustrating how uncaring, sadistic and morally reprehensible/insane this fictional military man was.  So when you are the actual real-life president – and put an image of YOU in place of the colonel – it means either:

a. You want to be seen as just that.

b. You are just that. 

Or

You are BOTH a. and b.  At least in your own mind.

Totally fine. No problems at all. #yikes

Whichever you or I choose to answer to any of these questions or observations it’s clear that the current occupant of the Oval Office intends to order his battalions of enforcers (Note: ICE Agents, the National Guard from a red state since blue states aren’t playing and, well other masked guys) into the streets of another blue city to round up as many people as possible – much in the style napalm rid Vietnam of Vietnamese of all ages that fictional colonel wanted to exterminate.

Will he do it? 

Won’t he do it?

How are these even questions we have to ponder??

That’s the reality show teaser promo this POTUS, a former reality TV show host and life-long bottom feeding huckster who in the last year has made $3-5 Billion in bitcoin selling virtual tchotchkes of himself, wants us to play.

Well, we’re not playing.

But we ARE paying attention.

Chicago assemble!

Because there are 2.72 million people in Chicago, many of them non-white and a lot of them immigrants, who are being threatened. They are threatened not so much by the face of the colonel inserted in the ad, but by someone with the same face acting more like a real life counterpart of the fictional Col. Kurtz that Marlon Brando played in the last third of that Coppola film classic.

And he was plain bat shit crazy.

Um… yes

Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker is clearly treating the situation as such.  Over the weekend his response was short and to the point.

The President of the United States is threatening to go to war with an American city.  This is not a joke.  Illinois won’t be intimidated by a wannabe dictator.

Preach Gov

Tens of thousands of people across the country took to the streets in red and blue cities in the last week, enraged at the militaristic threats, mass raids rounding up innocent citizens and the stripping of rights and legal status.

The current administration is also losing court cases nationwide, most recently from the federal bench, which ruled his deployment of troops in my home state of California was illegal.

And yet the threats continue, often veiled in lame comedy, as do the lies (Note: Crime is down in Chicago and Washington, D.C. and Los Angeles).  As does the misinformation and obsequiousness of his cabinet AND his private spray of willingly sycophantic billionaires (Note: Check out Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg caught on a hot mic serving up embarrassingly servile by watching this four minute segment in its entirety) which has now reached Saturday Night Live level.

It all reeks of either a new Gilded Age or the beginning of a contemporary version of the French Revolution. 

Though many people are saying it’s beginning to sound more like Russian oligarchy or the seeds of a late 1930s-style German dictatorship.

Um.. RED ALERT HERE

Whatever it is or is not any of those, it’s worth paying attention to. 

Not because it’s now co-opted imagery and dialogue from one of our greatest American director’s work.

But because it’s more serious than the heart attack lead actor Martin Sheen had that caused Apocalypse Now to famously shut down during filming.

He recovered from that and went on to play the president of our dreams on The West Wing.

Where art thou, President Bartlet?

But will we?

Let’s do more than hope we can do the same and recast our real life leader in the next election.

One that is not only free but fair.

And take to the streets en masse if the narrative begins to more and more lean towards the apocalypse.

The Doors – “The End” (with scenes from Apocalpyse Now)

LA on ICE

Greetings from L.A.  – that burning, trash heap of a city invaded and occupied by illegal aliens and criminals!  A dangerous, hellscape of paid insurrectionists intent on ripping away the fabric of our country!!

The place that I call home.

Well, guess what TACO —

WE LOVE L.A.!!!!

We’re with you Tay!

And thanks to you, now more people than ever, in NOT ONLY the country BUT THE WORLD, love it. 

That’s because this week everyone saw us trying to save democracy by exercising our constitutional right to protest. 

And if the worst you can say about protestors in a city of about 12.5 million is that there were no fatalities and comparatively little violence or vandalism (Note: The worst of the latter being a couple of self-driving Waymo cars being set on fire, something I myself contemplated doing in frustration long before any protest) we’re doing pretty well.

Take that

Especially because it’s not every day you see your home experience a real invasion.  The kind where the federal government sends in masked, unidentified and armed federal agents to infiltrate your neighborhood and arbitrarily grab your friends, family, neighbors, co-workers, acquaintances and fellow citizens off the street, throw them into vans and, for no discernible reason they will articulate, attempt to disappear them into custody, perhaps never to be heard from again.

It’s like some crazy old rich 79-year-old Floridian-transplanted-from-New York’s birthday wish in a pretend game where he’d get to be president of the United States for the next four years and do anything he wants.

Oh….

Ugh x 2000

I know.  It’s not funny.   But it could be because this should all just be some massive American punk move from a gaggle of overprivileged man-boys and mean girls with too much money and time and privilege on their hands.

Oh…

And now I have a migraine

Since Homeland Security’s “invasion” of Southern California earlier in the week, the only real and true invasion going on in any of the many neighborhoods I know includes secret ICE agents joined by 2000 members of the National Guard and 700 fighting-ready U.S. Marines with military weapons, all guarding the federal building downtown and patrolling a few key blocks nearby for no reason other than they were ordered to by a rogue federal government commandeered by a rogue president.

Which is to say nothing of the hundreds of L.A. police and sheriff officers shooting rubber bullets and tear gas bombs downtown on Saturday (6/14), as millions in other cities nationwide symbolically joined us in the No Kings Protest against the democracy-breaking Trump policies.

But let’s back up a little.

It’s been that kind of week

Earlier this week, our current, ahem, POTUS took power over the National Guard from the governor of a state (Note: In this case, California but coming soon to a state near you) for the first time in more than 60 years, a power grab now being fought by California in appeals court and soon likely the U.S. Supreme Court.  A couple days later he topped it off with commanding U.S. (Note: OUR) military troops, the kind trained NOT to keep the peace but to instead be efficient killing machines in places as far off as Fallujah, Kandahar and soon likely…well, you get the idea…into our city to pick off anyone who couldn’t pass for a white Afrikaner farmer. (Note: Let’s just say even I could in a pinch).

Listen up, cuz they fallin’

Meanwhile, here in L.A. hundreds of non-white children and adults are being pulled off the streets from Home Depots, schools, supermarkets, playgrounds and farmlands.  This week the local news was rife with six and eight year olds crying and screaming as a parent was literally dragged away from them as their older teenage sibling, barely managing to hold it together, tried to comfort them.  Then there was the story of the late twenties Black military vet shoved to his knees by one of these uniformed baboons and put in a chokehold because he had the temerity to walk up the steps of the Veteran Administration building downtown to check on his benefits (Note: This was midday and there was no reason NOT to enter the V.A. that day).  Though the one seared into my brain is that of the ICE agents with kerchiefs around their mouths chasing down a Mexican farm worker from the Central Valley through a strawberry patch he was employed to work in.

They sure did

Of course, all this was nothing compared to what happened to the senior United States Senator from my home state of California, Alex Padilla, when he dared to pose a question to U.S. Secretary of Homeland Security, aka ICE Barbie and renowned dog killer, Kristi Noem.   Cosplaying her version of chief immigration enforcer – she, of the petrified plastic surgery face accentuated by plentiful hair extensions and full pageant-style makeup, was telling a series of mistruths that culminated with this ominous threat to anyone thinking of protesting anything she or her agents choose to do in southern California.

“We are NOT going away.  We are staying here to liberate the city from the socialists and the burdensome leadership that this governor and that this mayor have placed on this country and what they have tried to insert into the city.”

She’s a charmer!

At which point OUR senator, the one who was democratically elected, along with our governor and our mayor by me and millions of other Californians, proclaimed from the back of the room as he approached:

 “I’m Senator Alex Padilla. I have questions for the secretary. Because the fact of the matter is …”

At which point he was grabbed by a bunch of agents, dragged out of the room, tackled onto the ground and physically held down by several men on the floor who grabbed his wrists behind his back and handcuffed him in full, proud view of the cameras.  And no, I’m not exaggerating even a little bit.  If you haven’t already, you can view it here.

Here’s the thing about our Senator Padilla.  He’s a graduate of MIT and an engineer, an L.A. native who was put through school by two Mexican immigrant parents – a Dad who worked as a short order cook and a mother who cleaned houses.  A guy who trained as an engineer and could have made a ton of money doing that but instead chose to enter politics in the 1990s because he wanted to give voice to a community of people who didn’t have the education and power to speak for themselves to the powers that be.  A guy who’s soft-spoken, hard-working and extremely well-liked by his Senate colleagues.  Someone who would never think of killing their 14 month old puppy instead of taking the time to train it properly, or ever consider being the public face of a modern-day version of Hitler’s Brownshirts.

If I sound a bit worked up over this it’s because:

  1. I am.  And –

2. While Sen. Padilla was being ICE-handled by Cruella’s goons on Thursday, I was five blocks away sitting in a large room at the L.A. Criminal Court House waiting to be called in for jury duty. 

It didn’t work this time

I can’t say I was shocked when the news alerts about all this popped up in my phone but nevertheless I was taken aback.  That is until another potential juror, a thirtyish woman from Thailand, nervously approached me and tentatively asked if I’d ever been on a jury before.  She was smart, had a cell phone, was conversive in the language but underneath it all looked terrified.  It was as if she felt like if she made one wrong move or gave one wrong answer some masked man out of the corner would emerge out of the shadows and take her away. 

I chalked it up to me just being dramatic (Note: Or as my shrink has said more than once, “inclined to piece things together in order to tell a story.”).  But when we were upstairs, sitting on benches outside the courtroom door to which we’d been assigned, and she requested to sit by me so I could “help guide her” through it, I wasn’t so sure.

Turns out I was right…and then some.

Somehow being right this time didn’t feel this good

Once inside the courtroom, I looked around at about 40 or so of my fellow potential jurors, well more than half of whom were of Mexican, Black, Asian or some other non-white ethnicity – truly an L.A. melting pot — and heard us all verbally answer the judge’s questions about our jobs, previous experience with law enforcement, and prior jury service.  What quickly became abundantly clear to me – storyteller or not – was that the demeanor of every single non-white person ranged from cautious and concerned to absolutely intimidated and frightened.  People stumbled over their words, told stories of police harassment and witnessing violent crime, and expressed outright concern over what constituted a right or wrong answer or whether they’d said  too much or too little.

As for the answers from the majority of us white folks, and the manner in which we gave them, well let’s just say I wish there was a new term for, um, Caucasian privilege, (Note: Did I make one up?) since everything about the term is so profoundly embarrassing and enraging to me.

As it should be to anyone who cares about democracy in 2025 and beyond.  #Resist.

We all had a venti cup that day

Oh, and P.S. – After I confidently said to the defense attorney I’d have no trouble at all with the concept of reasonable doubt in the case potentially before us, one where a woman of color was being tried for a crime against the state, I was immediately dismissed by the city’s prosecuting attorney from jury duty.

Make of that what you will.  But also know that this very kind of Caucasian privilege is what too many of my “kind” in Washington are fighting to preserve.

Randy Newman – “I Love LA”