A strange distortion of reality has come to my town, and its name is Mel Gibson. When Mel Gibson comes to town, all of a sudden faux farmer's markets appear on the wrong day, everyone seems to be carrying a walkie-talkie, and ropes and ropes of wires are taped to the sidewalks. Gibson is here to make a film about a daughter who has disappeared. You know, the same old fear narrative he's been peddling for pretty much ever.
On my way to a cup of coffee this morning I passed a bad simulacrum of a protest. Over and over, Gibson drove by in a car as the protesters hooted and hollered about a war. In a Gibson world, the protesters are drab, often wear smeared black eye make-up, and seem anemic. Two protesters were dressed in eagle and bear costumes. You know, like liberals do.
Sadly, I did not get to talk with Mel. I had hoped to ask him about his Yom Kippur plans.
2 comentarios:
this, sir, is a great post.
you should know you just caused someone's first laugh of the day.
thank you, jimena! that first laugh is an important one, and i'm honored to have supplied it.
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