Time to Cancel the Trump Show!

DATELINE:  Limited Series Ratings Down

Donald Trump once infamously said that he wanted each day of his presidency to be like a TV series episode. The Trump Show is not Another World, or even As the World Turns. It is stomach-turning overkill.

What fat old soap star failed to understand, among a million misunderstood points, is that even a soap opera is only on for five days per week, and it usually moves at a snail’s pace. The main characters may not appear every day. Trump violated his own comprehension of what his White House should be.

Even Dallas or Dynasty was on only for twenty weeks of the year—and then took a hiatus. It built toward a stunning climax. It did not try to create a climax each day. That is bad plotting, as Casca and Cassius might tell Brutus.

It certainly is what any decent soap writer would tell the notorious bed bug hotelier.

Trump’s show has no co-stars and no one receives a good bit of dialogue. Woe to them who ad lib, because they will find themselves out of the series post haste. Just ask Mattis, Scaramucci, Spicer, and Sessions. 

If the villain wins in an episode, Trump must put on a superhero outfit and damn the Kryptonite of collusion.

Even the good wife (or wives as it were) must be a Stepford robot, unable to speak out that she never met people he says she adores. And, most of the women are like J.R. Ewing castoffs: blondes who don’t cut it more than a guest episode or two.

You might yearn for the episode that asks who shot J.R.? You won’t find it in the Trump teleplay. He’s the one who can go out on Fifth Avenue and shoot someone (likely a black Baltimorian) and get away with murder.

He can lock up children like Richard III and not ask for a horse to help him get away. 

We do expect the forces of the empire to all turn against him in the final page of this bad show—much like they did to Laurence Olivier when he played that Son of York: chopped liver would be too good for Trump.

Oak Island, Another Week, Another Snail’s Pace

DATELINE: Getting Hands Dirty?

heartthrob alex lagina Alex Goes to Library.

We have come to realize that producers of The Curse of Oak Island will never cut to the chase.  They cut all right: after digging in mud, the treasure hunters suddenly have clean hands and clean clothes every time.

Alex Lagina never dirties his hands. He went to the library this week.

As for the chase, it has something to do with following a snail at his own self-contained pace.  And, the latest episode of the series, now in its sixth year, and tenth episode, indicated to us that it is written by the same formula that gave us As the World Turns, or Another World.

We have a soap opera here that meanders and takes a spurt of action, digests it for weeks, and then crawls onward.

On top of that, we realized again how much you have to trust the insights of the “heroes,” in this case, the Lagina Brothers. They are reasonable if not plodding. This week another “new” worker found a stone with hieroglyphs on it that the team has apparently not noticed after walking past it for years.

Call in the radar people who shoot it with red laser lights and will get back to us.

It may mean that you can add the Vikings to the Knights Templar and the Romans, to the original Captain Kidd, as visitors to Oak Island. We aren’t sure if the place was sort of a historical bank vault where you might come to make a deposit or take out a loan.

In any respect, we have noticed this season that there are dozens of background workers milling about, and huge areas of excavation. Please don’t keep selling us that this is a “mom and pop” friendly treasure hunt.

We are feeling the signs that the summer is almost over on Oak Island, and the kids will have to go back to school soon. Nephew Peter is already gone. Alex Lagina is here for a couple of weekends, and the show is likely to hang us up to dry for another season.

We see new structures in the mud at Smith’s Cove, but we remain the only one with clean hands.