I'm not even a little bit over Bowie's death. I wrote 500 words that I scrapped because it didn't translate.
Instead of telling you about the rich role he played in my life during my high school years (and how, when I listen to his music, it's like a guy I was in love with getting really hot over the last ten years and walking into my office and hugging me), or how many of my friendships have a hard core of Bowie admiration floating at their nucleus, I will instead share this amazing New Yorker cartoon I also posted on my instagram.
Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do....
One tangential statement on Iman. I think in like, seventh grade, we had to do a project on, um, influential people of color in America // it could have been immigrants // I have no idea // my middle school years are forgotten.
It was still sort-of pre-Google, and the teacher gave us a list of options of people to research. Iman was on the list. So, all I know about Iman is that I did some sort of a book report on her in the seventh grade. She's so beautiful, and she and Bowie were perfection on earth. Wah.
Three other things:
(AKA, obsessively writing is curing the anxiety I woke up with / the grief / holy shit, Snape died, fuck this week.)
1. I was thinking about my relationship with politics.
For me, following politics is a like googling an ex. The rush of anxiety. The overwhelming need to know everything that's going on. Looking and looking and looking. Lying to myself by affirming, "Oh, I'll be able to look away!" Seeking validation of, "I'm so glad I'm better off without THAT in my life!"
It literally never feels good. It sucks me in and I get more sad, obsessive, lonely, and worried about my future.
And really and truly, I never stalk exes (or girlfriends of guys I like) for this reason.
In the same way, I do not actively follow politics. The last political trail I trailed was the 2004 election (I was fucking obsessed).
This year though, it's happening. I feel my giant green inner-self Hulking out during these debates. I shamefully flicker on talk radio. I find myself slipping in political thoughts at work. I'm actually nervous about this outcome and it's consuming me.
2. Have I told you my theory on Donald Trump yet?
No. Of course I haven't. Here's the Charity Palamara (TM) theory.
I think that the closest thing we have to a national religion in this country is Celebrity Idol Worship. I'm obviously not the first one to point this out. Yeezus.
So, if our religion is celebrities, then the argument lays itself out when we talk about Donald Trump.
This is a man who hosted a show called The Celebrity Apprentice. And we feel like we know him! And he speaks the lingua franca! And he has ~*star power*~! And he knows how to "paint the dream" (no immigrants, LOL!!!)! And look guys, he's so rich, he'll make all of us rich!
He becomes a demigod and it's really easy to be like, OMG MR. TRUMP, YOU SO GET IT. BE OUR KING! FIX IT FELIX!
But, this is dangerous for many reasons; the most detrimental being that he doesn't respect the Constitution or the Founding. The other one is that he's such an incorrigible asshole.
Yes, we all agree that the system needs change. And change and looking at things in new ways is vital for any lasting institution -- cars, phones, wartime weaponry, clothes, you get it. It usually takes an outside perspective to do this. I wish we were starting with someone who created a tool we know works (tech).
3. Here's list of tickets we're all ready to see:
1. Paul Ryan / Kim Kardashian (D)
2. Teresa Heinz Kerry / Dan Carlin (I)
3. Jeb Bush / Cheryl Strayed (R)
4. Mark Zuckerberg / Carly Fiorina (R)
5. Joe Biden / Aurora Tower (D) (lolz)
Last thing -- here's my new favorite Amy Schumer sketch.
Alternately titled: Charity On A Date.
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