A Critique of: America Destroys Every Institution

I once again test my good will—with the country —by penning another themed critique of the said country. United State of America, the indelible.

Obama the Dutiful: Our Jilted Gilded Leader - by Darius Frank

American culture is a Marvel-style epic—in the same way teen horror flicks are Scream preserving. The societal box-set is constrained to phases like the Fiege-managed cinematic saga—just as contrived too.

It’s the original shit show—so of course it can be elevated or expanded upon. But just because it’s bigger doesn’t mean it’s better. More importantly, it doesn’t mean it changes the facts.

The villains are always “one of them”—someone connected to the in-crowd—turned heel due to paltry conditions of which they could change. The transformation often takes place in a state of agency outside the purview of the protagonist(s). Which, one would assume is necessary, because when you’re struggling as a heavily monitored and regulated body, there isn’t much room for perfecting insidiousness. The depiction of the contrary usually includes a moment, or period in time—of clear distinction—with which uninterested parties could have intervened. Additionally, they typically maintain a patriarchal sense of crime and punishment that borders on budding tyranny; black and white perceptions gleaned through the mitigation of impositions inherited by their conscription. It’s baffling sometimes how situations—unique to the dastardly—go unchecked. Often times receiving support by those who “wouldn’t go that far.”

A made for tv film series that refreshes every other Fourth of July.

The original sets the bar, defining what is right—or canon—in the series. The remake doesn’t get to retcon the facts in this production. Even as a simulation, the postulations of yore are the foundation, so much so, that any savvy viewer can speak to what will happen next from several miles away.

The problem is the source material and the perpetuation of its worst aspects becoming ratified as must haves to gauge validity of the subsequent offerings.

Contrary to popular belief, you can very well hate the original. But to then go and praise retellings for the grade of Easter eggs included, feels like it does a disservice to you and the countenance of your tastes.

In reference to the loathsome saga, that is—new to blu-ray—These United States, we’re all inconvenienced by their continued effort to impose America’s “immense power,” via the perspiration of deep suffering the imperial antagonist is capable of inflicting. It’s often the more defaming aspect of the spectacle because the nation played its worse cards at the top.

So every revolution feels like a return to its greatest hits. Except the trite display is violently pedantic and the hits struggle to keep from losing steam.

If it weren’t for the unique ways the revolutionist find to answer in bigger, better, genre-spanning forms—like industry-wide walkouts, human-chain freeway blocks, city-wide art installations, and pussy hats for god-sakes—the film series would be relegated to keeping drive-in theaters out of the red.

I’m sure there are bigoted cinephiles that would attend every premier; in their gas guzzler of choice, paying out the ass for concession, in a show of American pride.

Capitalism’s favorite concept, nationalism.

You want to be over it, and you are over it. But you are it, and the show must go on.

The way you hate it defines what to hate. It’s an essential aspect for the purveyors of spectacle and the most defining detail to canon. America has become the kitsch oppressive reference—inspiring the Nazis, the Zios, the Cartels, and the right wing to every flight of Democracy. Be it that it is genuinely destroying lives, speaking so subordinately could be dangerous business.

As an unfortunate victim and lifelong target of the American oppressive inspiration; I humbly feel that I’ve earned the entitlement of expressing my discontent—in a voice natural to my creative expression—as a bare minimum inheritance.

As an award winning, queer, Black, college graduate—constricted to a life in poverty under the nurturing parentage of disenfranchised Marine vets—with debts by shuttered institutions, and a lack of stability and security disincentivizing home and/or progeny; my opinion is the best of what I have been afforded—suffering this production.

My hermitage of indebted loneliness leaves me little more than time to invest in this indulgence. So spare me the judgement and continue reading. If you don’t, I wouldn’t be mad at you.

Ignorance is a right in America—one of the more interesting plot points to the story. And not all great things are celebrated in the land of fries that have never seen France, burgers that contain no ham, and an “appropriated” vocabulary that has done little more to honor a “melting pot” than the fiery sequel to slavery; Jim Crow. The only thing America has done independently since dumping Britain is brag about it. So if you desire bliss, I implore you to stay ignorant.

This might be a strong place to put a “subscribe now” button. Since I’m showing the disinterested the door. Oh poo.

We are refried beans. The reference is apt because even the cuisine is a bastardized amalgam of dishes made bigger not necessarily better. The formula for every great remake, no? The investment feels more like a form of torture to test devotion. The way you have to be American to stomach this shit is the most nauseating part of the whole theater going experience.

High cholesterol is a psyop to ween you onto ingesting their freedom juices directly. The chemicals that can survive high temperatures aren’t as abundant—or reliable—as the ones they can just spray your veggies with. So the answer to all of your dieting woes is to have a salad; stay woke.

But I digress.

They don’t provided options to cater to your desire, they provide options so that you feel like you bought into the exploitation.

For example: if all you were offered was Taco Bell, and they forced it on you, you can rebel with just cause—target meet sustained action. Although, I don’t know where you’d find the time, with the near constant bouts of diarrhea. However, if you resigned to having Taco Bell—as they forced you to choose from hundreds of alternatives—well you’d be more apathetic to fighting against their audacity—and all too selective on where to direct the effort. Atleast they gave you options. It sounds like conspiracy theory, but that’s because they sold you the concept of conspiracy theories to defame this type of existential affirmation.

Conspiracy theories—nestle right between blind patriotism and treasonous action—are the domestic terrorist holy trinity; one of the film series’ favorite personas.

It’s a convenient abdication of justice you don’t actually have to be worried about because they’ve got it. Insert insidious wink and finger gun.

Frankly, American society is more a genre than series and its defining aspects malign as much as they sensationalize a form of living that is righteously abhorrent.

Like a thriller that levies a rape scene to provide an antagonist worthy of disdain; they provide the antithesis of your liberal bloodlust—so that you might finally demo the other side of that blasted coin. The Land of Milk and Honey professing desire to become great again, besmirches its cinematic history. If your latest position is one returning to greatness, then what the hell have you been marketing in claiming to be the land of the free? Lying about how great the healthcare is? Bragging about the size of your… military; and the actual adoption of the damn milk and honey moniker?

Hell, if you de-pot the mix, what’s so great about what’s left?

The unfortunately misguided redirection to becoming “great again” is the producers looking to remake the original film with the sick shit done to greater flourish. It’s as if they’ve figured out a better way to make their sadism stick. With none of the protections—the misfortunate louses that support the new content—hope their representation provides them.

The film will be titled—‘Merica: Destroys Every Institution or America: DEI. Our shallow linguistic range loves an acronym.

This analogy has gone over so well, even I’m now afraid to expand on it. In any case the series is played. Top to bottom, the film’s depiction is as diametrically opposed to prosperous content as It 2.

I mean, they opened the film with homophobic violence and murder, yeesh.

I want to be mad at the country, as there is a litany of better topics to platform before returning to the shit that’s easy to hate. I miss the time when bigotry made an effort to bake the shit into progress. The blatant retrograde makes the villain feel dumb. To watch the hero struggle with a stupid villain is a waste of runtime. It’s not fair to the audience to be so unworthy of the Academy.

But leave it to this self indulgent machine of perpetual ineptitude to provide a profile of irrelevancy proficient in amassing millions—circulating the same funds.

Imagine that, they’re making a killing off killing the ones who make—then boast about proficiency.

It’s a sick sad world and we’re here without Daria to subvert the concept into a demonstration of early podcasting. We’ve ground up so much real life into memetastic chunks to hurl at the 1% that even the hate for our subjugation is another aspect of the empirical process. There’s no there there with this performance; and every attempt at making something “great” is squelched by the people who’ve never made anything worth a damn.

So in this phase 100 rollout, I can only ask that you spare us all and just fast forward to the part where the villain is huddled in a closet, with the revolver to their head, longing to escape punishment. We’ll leave you to the affair, if it means we get to make a better piece of content out of the rubble.

The TikTok dance to the viral sound of the end will be lit. I promise you.

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