This is a day, not unlike others, where I sought to sit down and write some inane nonsense in the hopes that some misguided soul would come along to read it, hopefully calling it imparted intelligence. A place where fiction influences reality and vice versa.
After a while one can seem to run out of zany ideas that you just have to settle for reality. Then, in a twist like a Rod Sterling plot, you realize the truth has been much more crazy than any ideas you racked your brain to dream up. Truth is the bomb. That is an uh-ha moment like no other. I have had exactly those reoccurring thoughts almost every day now for months. What does it portend for our future, for my future in particular?
For posterity’s sake, we can only hope there are some lessons to be learned from this sorted process. But ironically this reality, crazy at it is, seems to be void of lessons learned from past history or prior revelations. This presents a paradox.
So are the enterprising scriptwriters for Hollywood and film also seeing the same writing on the wall that leaves this writer feeling like a dinosaur? Here is a cultural exercise to try for a test: if a thought bubble were hovering over this day, what would it say? Dare you think further, and what image would be under it?
Here is just one example from a day in which reality appears to go feral. The truth came out putting a name and face to an anonymously written NYT column in 2018, which stood media and politicos at attention. The piece: “I Am Part of the Resistance Inside the Trump Administration.” Miles Taylor turned out to be its writer, who was a staffer at Homeland Security. He left there and now has joined the CNN network of aggrieved and disgruntled government employees. He should fit right in.
Of course the kicker in the anonymity story was wondering who this insider was, or how close he really was to the president? The caustic cloud of speculation loomed over the administration for months. What did he know about daily decision-making that gave him such rich perspective on the administration? Or maybe not. And just like that, reality turned out to be crazier than the fiction it tries to emulate. But now it is too late because we have taken the bait and ran with it, as far and long as it could take us.
Still, it caused no less than 30 administration officials to deny authorship, something that apparently did not bother the astute conscience of the anonymous writer. Even Barack Obama suggested he was acting undemocratic. From a president who suffered no breaches in his administration, even while conducting a coup to undermine an incoming president.
The sheer beauty was that this person could have been any one of possibly top-tier members of the administration. And it capitalized on that beauty. Perks of anonymity. The media then parlayed that experience into a wider story across government. Protecting such anonymity became a lifeline to integrity in government, so the plot went.
Now, a man who was relatively unknown or insignificant used a cloak of anonymity to propel himself into a position of knowledge and trust, publicly. Though never knowing who he was, if he even existed – was it a he or she – left many people to question what it really said, if it was all true, about our current president and his administration?
Another irony is that he was a nobody before but only now more of a somebody. But the revealed somebody turns out to be less relevant than at least the NYT had implied.
Of course the real abject lesson for us here is to be careful what and how you trust what comes from the mainstream media organs these days. You never know where the truth starts or ends, or comes from. Yet there are times when they just reveal who they are. It did lay bare the notion that some are/were working inside the administration, covertly in their minds anyway, to either save the administration or sabotage it from being successful. However they justified it. Who says all anonymity is working for the good?
In this case, anonymity seemed to be the forbidden fruit from which all this supposed truth and honesty would flow. It turned out to be only another deception. An intermittent pause in the search for identity and perception.
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