We grew up in the 70s. Came of age in the 80s.
It was rad. So rad, we often talk about how rad it all was.
So you know, we edit, but never censor. Not language or ideas or emotion.
In this edition: Elections, Inclusion, and Trumpkinhead
Zan: It’s fall!
Yesterday was Halloween! And we’re exactly one week away from Election Day.
Max: Yep.
Zan: And I was
thinking… Remember the 1988 horror flick, Pumpkinhead? Wouldn’t it be great to
modernize it and retitle as Trumpkinhead
- A Giant Orange-faced Puppet?
Max: Oh, that’s
good.
Zan: It’d be
funny, but not. Like our current election. Do you remember any elections from
the 80s?
Max: Of course!
My mom made me help her campaign for Mondale/Ferraro.
Zan: Are you
serious? That’s amazing.
Max: Imagine how
wonderful things would be if they had won.
Zan: For one
thing, the topic of equality would’ve advanced more quickly.
Max: Exactly.
Zan: So, what
kind of campaigning did you do?
Max: Mostly door-to-door. I was twelve and handed out information on who to call if the person needed a ride to vote.
Zan: Grassroots
efforts. That's so…now. Did you consider yourself a feminist, a liberal?
Max: No. I knew
what those things were, but… I don’t know. My mom was negatively impacted by
her feminism when she stood up with women who were victims of work-place
discrimination. They won, but that story followed her from job to job. Well, it
followed her from job interview to job interview. For years she couldn’t find
work, which was hard on us. Really hard. Anyway, I was sent out, alone, to
canvas the neighborhood and ask for votes. I didn’t think about being liberal
or feminist—though I was both. I feel like my mom only included me to impress
the other people campaigning. And most of our neighbors were African-American
and they were voting for Reagan—kind of surprising, thinking back on that—so I
felt discouraged.
Zan: Holy shit
for her! And double holy shit for you!
Max: Now, of
course, I know why I’m liberal.
Zan: Why?
Max: My son. There’s
a lot of bullshit out there to influence him to join the “us versus them”
movement. Like any teen, he’s on the Internet a lot and I worry he’ll stumble
upon Trump trolls that preach prejudice or tell him he doesn’t have a place in
this world anymore. You and I both know what that feels like—being different and
feeling like there isn’t a place for us. In the end, I’m lucky. My kid will ask
questions and I can talk him, knowing he’ll retain what I say. I just have to
hope he uses my advice when the time comes. Why are you liberal?
Zan: That exact
thing you just mentioned—inclusion. It’s innate in me to be inclusive, search
for solutions, and support ideas that make things better for everyone, not just
the few. In my experience, having those goals can be messy and create
opposition, because to include everyone takes a large mechanism. As I grew up
and learned about politics, I saw one party—Republicans—calling the large mechanism “big
government”. For as long as I remember, my gut instinct has been to say, “Big
government? I love big government.
It’s for everyone.” I won’t drag the conversation down with how so-called big
government can and should work. Instead, I’ll just add that my first memory of an
election is Carter/Reagan ‘80. Our class held a mock-election and I
was deeply conflicted. My family supported Reagan. Some interesting, smart, and
admirable kids in my class supported Carter. In the end, I cast my ballot for Reagan, but as we watched Election Day coverage at school, I
secretly rooted for Carter. He lost and I felt sad. I couldn’t name my
disappointment then.
Max: Can you name it now?
Zan: Yeah. Easily. Ronald Reagan invoked fear as a campaign tool. At least for me, a third grader, the way he talked about nuclear war read as fear-mongering. And I knew fear. In my house it took on another form...fear of others. Which is really the same fear as Reagan's we-must-stop-foreign-nations-or-we'll-have-war fear. I knew behind the nations were people and Reagan was suggesting that those people were the enemy. That seemed ugly to me, and what I saw at home...family members making racist or sexist slurs...looked ugly. And I didn’t want to be ugly. I
didn’t want to be fear-full. And that notion of us-against-them had me looking around at my classmates. There were girls as smart and capable as boys. Boys as sensitive and gentle as girls. Kids
with different skin tones and socio-economic status, kids with disabilities. Different was everywhere. And these kids weren’t my enemies. They were my friends. We were in it together. It seemed so simple. It is so simple. Which is why Trump for
President really does sound like a scary movie?
Max: Trumpkinhead – A Giant Orange-faced Puppet
is a better title. So what’s this horror flick about?
Zan: I’m not sure.
You love this genre, so you can help. Do you remember Pumpkinhead?
Max: It’s been a
long time. Let me look it up. Okay. I’m googling it. Okay. Oh yeah. Pumpkinhead
is conjured as revenge. So, just like Donald Trump. And that’s a good place to
start. Meaning, who unleashes Trumpkinhead? Someone who wants revenge on
America, right? Or someone who wants revenge on some modern idea? Someone like a
meninist.
Zan: Meninist?
As in anti-feminist? Did you make that up?
Max: Sadly, no.
It’s a real thing. An ignorant thing.
Zan: That is
sad. But I like the feminist angle. It suits us. What if we brand our
Trumpkinhead conjurer something more obvious though? Like, we can call him an inthekitchenist.
Max: Sexist and
humorous. I like it.
Zan: And Trumpkinhead’s
conjurer is hurt, angry. His pain is real, but his head is clouded. Like a
pumpkin—full of pulpy cobwebs and seeds. Of ideas. But nothing
useful. It’s too damp and dark in there and he’s too angry to sort through his
thoughts and take responsible action. So, like Pumpkinhead’s plot, the one who summons Trumpkinhead is confused and action
comes in the form of gruesome revenge.
Max: What’s he
angry about?
Zan: He’s an
inthekitchenist, so when his dinner is burned because his wife isn’t
paying attention, he flips out. She’s doing something important, but he doesn't get it. Let's see, what important thing can she be doing?
Max: Scratch the
wife cooking. The inthekitchenist is cooking his own dinner. Because his wife has left him. She wanted to go
back to school and he said no.
Zan: He said,
“Over my dead body.”
Max: Right. And
his kids are grown and don’t come to visit anymore. He’s alone. In the kitchen.
Mumbling things like, “It’s this feminazi bullshit. This woman card crap. ‘But
I need more education, so I can get ahead,’ she says. More education my ass. And where does she need to get ahead to? She doesn’t need to get ahead to take care of her family. To take care of me.”
Zan: Right.
That’s the crux of the male Trump supporter too. He feels left out, left
behind, and not just by his wife or kids, millennials, but by any one who looks or thinks differently than him. They're all moving up in the world and he thinks nobody cares for him anymore.
Max: But we do
care for him. A lot. We care a lot for everyone.
Zan: Right. But
as I said, his hurt manifests as seething anger and confuses him. So, instead of looking inward and trying to grow as a person or join the movement forward, the movement of inclusion, he lashes
out. Everyone becomes the enemy. And now he's burned his goddamn dinner.
Max: And as the
kitchen fills with smoke, he coughs and curses. Behind him a pumpkin his wife carved
before she left sits on the counter and election coverage is on the television.
Zan: And the
inthekitchenist fans the smoke, but it doesn’t stop the smoke detector from
sounding. Inthekitchenist becomes enraged. He’s throwing things and ranting and
raving. So much so that he doesn’t notice the blue glow of the television shift from the
screen to the face of the pumpkin, where it becomes an orange glow.
Max: And
suddenly the alarm silences and the pumpkin speaks.
Max: And then
what happens?
Zan: Well, we’ve
seen this movie. We know how it ends.
Max: True. But
the vote could save us.
Zan: Yes. The
Vote.
Zan: We are going to be okay, aren’t we, Max?
Max: As long as
Trumpkinhead is the last of his kind. As long as some genius doesn’t decide to
make versions two through four, like with the movie Pumpkinhead.
Zan: Right. But
even if there are more of him, people will know better than to buy a ticket,
right?
Max: Yes, now people know better than to pay attention to a pumpkin-headed puppet.