Day 572

Day 572 Tuesday August 14, 2018 1,006 Days to Go

Historians who look at Homer in the original Greek know that the stories Homer told come from a much earlier time. They can tell this because the names of the weapons and armor described are not from Homer’s time, but from the Bronze Age. The names of the heroes however are believed to be associated with the time of Homer. In other words, the stories were updated with names of folks currently in vogue. I have certainly seen this in various jokes. The punchline remains the same but the names of the people performing the actions are updated. The last time I heard the joke about three people in a plummeting aircraft with only two parachutes was in Nixon’s time. One of the people on the doomed plane was Kissinger who declared, “I’m the smartest person in the world. I therefore need to save myself.” He grabs a pack and jumps out of the plane. One of the two remaining people turns to the other one and says, “You take that parachute. The smartest person in the world just grabbed my backpack and jumped out of the plane. I’ll take the other one.”
And so it is today with Trump. In this case the question is, “Who will he throw under the bus?” (Today? or Next? is probably in order, but I’m guessing someone gets thrown under the bus every day with him.)
This brings us nearly up to date. We are on the brink of a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. Here we have Philandreous (played by Donald Sr.) and here we have Philoneous (played by Donald Jr.) and as is true today as it was in the times of the ancient Greeks: Philoneous is the son of Philandreous. Philoneous has done everything a good son, desperate to please his father would do. He has modeled his life after his dad’s. In this case, that means he has lied constantly, misrepresented facts, and done shady business deals – just like dear old dad. But is that enough to win his father’s approval? *
As we will see, yes and no.
As it turns out father counseled son, when his son got in trouble. Unfortunately, in so doing dad committed a crime. Thus, dad is in as much trouble as his son. The authorities are closing in. There seems little escape from justice. Not that they haven’t tried mind you. And because, “Hey, the old tricks worked in the past, Why not now?” Why not now indeed!
The problem is, of course, the pro-counsel. One Antipas who represents the law of the land, and will not yield. Not even for a nice bag of ducats, or the threat of bodily harm. Physical and psychological intimidation have not worked. Nor have threats against his family, friends, and associates. Nor has sending out their cronies to wail in the public square about the un-justice being wrought or the damage being done to their family and fortune. Of course, it’s been shown throughout the play that whatever the Phil family acquired it was done by corrupt means, and therefore they aren’t entitled to any of it.
We are now at what we hope is the final scene because, to be honest, this play has gone on way too long. Here we are in the tower. The knights, swords drawn, are climbing the circular stairs. Soon they will be at the door. The last line of defense. Except for the last of the hangers-on who will be used as fodder to save the father son pair for a few more seconds. This would be their court legal scholar (who doubles as, not jester, but contortionist clown and punching bag) Jefferonis, and their town crier Sanderious.
Jefferonis has been told to stand on the steps and fight off the knights. (“But I don’t know how to hold a sword.” “Don’t worry you’ll learn quick.”)
He is quickly dispatched by the ascending knights either by his throwing the sword down the center opening and saying in a long southern wail, “You can have him! I don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout no swords.” Or, the knights just run him through with their swords and he raises a feeble arm, elbow crooked as he falls against the wall saying, “Oh, my.” [Director’s choice.]
As the knights reach the final few steps their stands Sanderious in all her wide hipped satorious splendor. White robe flowing, arms under her large and ample breasts, sardonic glaring stare. The knights hesitate and look up at her. She raises an eyebrow and casts a glance down at them. “I am sorry to inform you, but their are no more visitations for today.”
The knights look at her repulsiveness and one says, “This is bullshit!” They advance and throw her off the steps into the yawning opening at the center of the staircase. Her scream can be heard to go from high pitch to low as she falls ending in the sound of a splat or splash. [Once again Director’s choice: hard floor or shallow pool.]
Now the knights of justice (as they are called) are at the door. (Their numbers have been decimated by Philandreous’ expunging several of their leaders in mock trials in the village square.) Pounding and prying, it won’t be long now. Fortunately, for the father and son, Rapunsel left a long coil of her hair in the tower.** Long enough for one to climb down, get on the horse that Putanius, king of the evil state of Mordar, has dispatched. If they can only get to the horse! Unfortunately, there is nothing to tie the hair rope to.

But to update the tragedy, from this point on, I’ll use our current players names. (ie Don Sr. and Don Jr.)
Don Sr. “Tell you what. Wrap the rope around your waist so I can let myself down.”
Don Jr. “Okay, then what?”
Don Sr. “Then I’ll get on the horse and go see Putanius. Always liked that guy. Great guy.”
Don Jr. “What about me?”
Don Sr. “What about you?”
Don Jr. “How do I get down?”
Don Sr. (acts to show that he just realized the problem, then quickly acts to show he’s working on a lie, a subterfuge…) “How do you get down? Well, let’s see. You can climb down the rope. Just like I did.”
Don Jr. “But who’s going to hold the rope?”
Don Sr. “I am.”
Don Jr. “But you are already down!”
Don Sr. “Oh. Hum. I didn’t know. God-dammit.”
The knights have managed to poke holes in the wood of the door. Their sword blades are seen coming through the openings in the wood.
Don Sr. “No time. Wrap the rope around your waist.”
Jr does. The knights break through the door as Don Sr. leaps from the window (okay he gingerly gets to the edge, hangs on by his fingernails, then grabs the rope thus pulling Jr to the edge of the window and begins his descent. The knights rush in run Jr through with their swords.
Don Jr. (dying breath) “Dad!!!!”
Don Sr. (now on the horse) “I’ll go get help.” Turns and trots off, in no big hurry.

(Exeunt)

Will that be how it ends?
Will Dad, faced with a terrible choice, save himself or his son?
(Come on. It’s Trump. There’s no question here. The egotistical narcissistic bastard will save himself. He’s got more sons.)
Or is there an alternate ending?

[Hint: It’s not the Director’s choice.]

* I have taken some liberties with the naming of characters, the fables told, allegory and metaphor, and basically everything. I regret none of it.
** I told you I took liberties, what did you expect? (“Yes, it’s Deus Ex Machina you little sh*t. I know that. Yes, you’re never supposed to have something the audience had no way of knowing about enter into the story to save the day. Hey, did you see that gun on the wall? No? Well, that’s because I didn’t tell you it was there.”
– BANG! –
“One dead little shit. “)

1,006 Days to Go

PS Partial of Michelangelo’s “The Holy Family with Two Angels” Getty Museum, LA