While years and actions will ultimately determine the length of footnote allowed Donald Trump in the annals of history, his mark on pop culture is becoming quite obvious.

Contrary to punitive, ultra-conservative and pervasively power-hungry platforms, the 45th president of the United States is now inspiring liberal, meaningful television story lines. At least two dramas on network television more than slightly reference the shortcomings and undoing of the former (self-proclaimed) reality television icon.

Most obvious was the title change of Madam Secretary to Madam President during the show’s season premiere. The theme of collusion, corruption, and cyber meddling of foreign countries provided the punch required to set the course for the upcoming season as the first fictional female U.S. president sets out on her journey.

Television has a history of solid Whitehouse-based episodic dramas. Madam Secretary has already had a decent run and, no doubt, we will watch further not-so-subtle references to the current real-life administration for the remainder of the season. Trump’s ways and days are full of mass media story lines waiting to be retold.

But, it was the new courtroom drama All Rise that caught my eye with an episode heavily based on the ‘send them home’ cries you often hear reported at Trump rallies as he attempts to cap (in fact, eliminate) immigration into his country. It may well be the watermark of his presidency, with or without his promised walls.

The courtroom case we end up following in episode two of All Rise – in addition to the show’s sub-text along the racial divide – stems from charges levied against a driver who attempts to run down a woman with his pickup truck after shouting “go back where you came from”.

Immigration, on this continent and globally, is a hot topic and is not particularly new to television; Madam Secretary last season focused its camera on the children being held captive, away from their parents, at the Mexican border in an accurate moment of art reflecting life.

What I find refreshing is the tone of the writing in both shows. I believe we are starting to hear some true empathy behind the stories, and we are seeing believable characters fighting injustice, human rights, and freedom of the press as it continues to be called into question by a president who spends more of his time bragging and tweeting insults than taking care of the nation’s business.

I don’t watch a lot of television. In fact, I now only stream and with not a lot of regularity, but every once on a while a show captures my imagination.

Edward R. Murrow, more than half a century ago, labeled television as the “opiate of the people”, a criticism over poor programming and the improper use of what, then, was considered progressive technology. In the decades that followed, channels were added and programs improved, and while a swath of pap still exists, there is a show or two that seems to raise the bar. In doing so, it raises our consciousness of what is happening on this planet.

It does not, however, shield us from the self-serving and sufficiently insidious posturing of an amoral politician that continues to take up a large percentage of the never-ending news cycle. Perhaps the subjects and story lines addressed on small screen dramas may help nudge us towards a kinder gentle nation.

In an era where the reality of what’s going on has out-trumped reality television, I can only hope entertainment with a mindful message and sympathetic soul can get us thinking about what really matters.

Even my name will carry forward
to years I will not touch. This certainty remains
as truthful as it is obvious. We exist
in this fractured reality.

We all will die.
Admit that and you will move
more freely in this world.

Journey or adventure.

Most of us, week to week, are not aware
of a destination or even our path.
This has been my familiarity.

No other person’s experience can be
compared to your own experience.
We know various versions of the truth.

Time is tactile.

My hand will cup a breast only while my lips
have a taste to be quenched by lust,
or temptation.

Others will touch, or wish not to be touched.

Morals coat any decision made.
Experience tells us so.

Any human connection is hard; even harder
is loss of connection. Emotions are a commodity
shared with few, expressed by even less of us.

Trust.

The mind is never vacant, but a room muddled
by darkness. This space hosts a scent
I will remember after I
am left for dead.

We will all die; most of us alone.
Admit that, and you will move
more freely through this life.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

I took my time on Sunday, riding my bike to a particular place.

I didn’t have to be there at a particular time, but I first felt I was rushing after taking much of the morning meandering through the first draft of a manuscript I’ve been working on, and then had set aside.

At the beginning of last week – in an effort to meet a self-imposed deadline that would allow me to finalize another nearly-completed project – I found myself rushing through the story. It was only a first draft, and in a few weeks I knew I’d soon become consumed in the process, the plot, and the fictional lives I had created years before.

This time was supposed to be an initial quick read-through to familiarize myself with the work after it had sat long enough to become excitingly unfamiliar. Sunday I took my time. In fact, I decided that morning I would allow myself one more day with the work. A self-imposed deadline can selfishly be extended.

I wanted more time.

I changed up my pace partway through the bike ride on Sunday. I saw the hand-painted lettering on the bike path that served as a warning, or a reminder. Slow.

I had been rushing. It was the final day of summer, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, and I had been speeding through it. I don’t often, intentionally, ride my bike slowly. Cycling has always been one of those things I thought required speed. I’ve been like that since I was a kid, always pedaling hard, then, as a teenager when I would race or train.

I always believed a bike’s gears were meant for speed. The more gears you have, the greater the speed, or potential for speed.

Sunday I geared down and casually cruised the bike path across town. I’ve always enjoyed the feeling of speed on a bicycle. Sunday, I wasn’t even thinking of it. While still mindful of where I was going, I began looking around; enjoying the sights, and paying attention to buildings and features I normally would ride by.

I was trying not to rush. I do that too much. I rush. I think we, as a society, all do. We try too hard, to do too much, too quickly.

We even multi-task to try and do more than is required, or expected. We program ourselves, and our kids, to be at certain places, at certain times, on certain days. In the process we all try to squeeze in a little enjoyment or relaxation. Then we find out what we are squeezing in is neither enjoyable nor relaxing.

I haven’t been to yoga in a while. At one point in my life, and it wasn’t that long ago, yoga became that point in the day (many, many days in a row) where I could slow right down, breathe, and find stillness.

Yoga allowed me silence, or time to silence the mind. It taught me to slow down. It became the 90 minutes of the day where I could, essentially, check out of everything that was happening on the outside, and allow me to get inside myself. Yoga was a needed break, daily, more than regularly.

I made a point of slowing down. Then life began to speed up.

I moved to a new city five years back, a busier city where the pace is hectic, and there is more time required with a commute, and getting from there to here, and just keeping up with the busyness.

In fits and starts, I tried to incorporate yoga back into my new lifestyle in a new city. It became harder to fit in a class, or find a class (or get to class), with the distance, and all that traffic and all that rushing. And all those excuses.

At a time when I really could have used the slowness of a yoga class, I became caught up in the rush. No go equals no slow.

A few summers back I made a conscious effort to spend more time on my bike. My cycling is not with the regularity of yoga, nor is it as beneficial to the mind or muscle, but it does allow a genuine connection the road we are all on.

I’d like to get off the fast lane.

The weather is expected to remain unseasonably warm for the next while. It is my intention to ride the bike until common sense tells me it is too cold, or too icy.
I intend to ride a little longer, a little further, and a little slower.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

What are we: seven, eight days into a federal election in Canada? I’ve lost count.

Already I’m sick and tired of the dubious and deceitful nature of party politics and the inglorious leaders marching their sheep into battle.

You see, in Canada at least, elections are no longer about the candidate, but the cause. Voters have only one vote, and the person elected is only now recognized as a digit in the grand total that will put one person (one party) into power.

There were, perhaps, days — and it may well have been long before I could vote — when you could count on the local candidate to support and defend the constituency they were elected to represent. In those days, perhaps, honest people did honest work. Honestly.

Now, I realize this may sound like an old man ranting about how things were in the old days, but I suppose I’ve accepted that I am older now, and I’ve grown tired of the same old song.

Federal elections and — to a (marginally) lesser extent — provincial elections, have become routine. It’s the same old thing, over and over again; from the structured spin a party delivers in over-hyped platforms, to the manner in which the media will cover a campaign race.

It is a system where reporters follow around the chosen ones, waiting for crumbs to be dropped at structured points along the campaign trail. Access to the leaders, or the candidates, is regimented or, at times, non-existent. Every aspect of the branded campaign is designed to be strategically introduced during heavily choreographed presentations rather than addressing true societal concerns in a timely matter.

It’s all about controlling the narrative.

Political parties will respond only to their own polls. Politicians will only provide prepared answers. Politicians will only repeat the same answers. Reporters are given no time for follow through. It appears as if some reporters have no interest in follow-up.

It is a flawed system that counts on the electorate not caring or not bothering. It assumes disinterest and dismisses the intellect of the voter.

It is action and reaction until voting day, and then inaction through the years to follow. It is a flawed mechanism built on errors and ignorance.

There is a pattern to the errors, but even worse, an acceptance of the pattern; even an outright reliance on a perception of the continued stupidity of the electorate. Why else would a politician say things that cannot be backed up, or make statements that can never be validated? Never, at any point, will they acknowledge past mistakes.

And there are so many mistakes. Time is not an unproven principle.

We hear the same things, and we listen to them again, time after time; particularly at election time. Politicians lie, they cheat, and, sadly, are accountable only to their party. Politicians give politics a bad name.

We seem to accept that. We end up with the governments we deserve. Don’t accept what is offered, because it is rarely provided.

If we want something different, we cannot allow things to be done the same way they have been done. We, the electorate, deserve change. Don’t just ask for it; demand it.

Do not trust, or reward, the incompetence we have come to accept.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

What you have has nothing to do
with what you have been given.
It’s not fate,
it’s not kismet, and it’s not obvious.
It is what we choose to allow.
Many times, how we live is simply a choice.
Other times you have to ask.
We all have so much to do. Obligations.
Survival: doing what needs to be done.
What is expected is not often clear, or
not always possible.
Sometimes, if you have too many options,
you make the wrong choices.
Try to choose carefully, decide what
will fit into the current situation.
Accept the reality.
Choosing is difficult,
and often contentious. You need to know
where you are, more than where to start.
Admit your mistakes
early in the process. Honesty is always easier.

© 2019 j.g. lewis