I’m sure you’ve heard about the Shakespeare in the Park production of Julius Caesar currently running in New York.
Sure you have!
Instead of ancient Rome, the play is set in modern America. And old Julius Caesar is the President who looks surprisingly like Donald Trump.
It’s about as subtle as a brick in the face.
But having spent half of my adult life working in the theater, this is about as understated as theater people can possibly be.
Nuance and understatement aren’t exactly their forte.
The last time they managed oblique commentary on modern life was when Arthur Miller wrote “The Crucible” back in 1953.
And it’s been downhill ever since.
Frankly I’m a bit surprised they didn’t just rename the play “Julius Trump.”
Leftists are hateful and churlish by nature.
And hateful, churlish people couldn’t be subtle if their lives depended on it.
Naturally the growing outrage has prompted some corporate sponsors of this revenge snuff porn production to withdraw.
Arts patronage is a boon to business only if it doesn’t hurt the bottom line.
In fact, the news media seem more outraged and horrified by sponsors pulling out than they are a depiction of Donald Trump being assassinated on stage in front of a live audience.
Sure, we could play the “What if they portrayed Julius Caesar as a scrawny black guy in Mom jeans?” game. Couldn’t we?
Had Julius Caesar mirrored Barack Obama, the news media would have been apoplectic.
The NAACP would be demanding a DOJ civil rights investigation.
And the Macbeth witches on the View would be rending their garments and gnashing their teeth.
But why bother going down that road?
The truth is, simulated assassinations of Presidents are only in vogue when a Republican is in the White House. It’s always been that way.
Mostly because those of us on the right would never stoop so low.
And yet the same people who have been trying to suppress the free speech of everyone with whom they disagree are now working overtime to tell us that murdering a Trumpian Caesar is free speech.
Some of the defenses, however, are just, well, odd.
This morning, I happened across this tweet from Twitter’s Troll-With-Training-Wheels herself Chelsea Clinton.
In 1790, George Washington hosted a production of Julius Caesar, likely the first Shakespeare play performed for an American President. https://t.co/APzymQYXJX
— Chelsea Clinton (@ChelseaClinton) June 12, 2017
Oh, I see.
Since George Washington hosted Julius Caesar, it’s okay to portray the title character as a sitting American President?
Talk about a non-sequitur.
Honestly, one of these days Chelsea is going to troll successfully.
But I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.
Now, I spent nearly a decade as a theater director before I left to get my MFA in Playwriting at Carnegie Mellon School of Drama.
So how about I direct a production of Julius Caesar with a woman playing the title role.
And not just any woman.
We’ll cast a chunky, near-septuagenarian bottle-blonde in a pantsuit.
Brutus can be played by a loud, curmudgeonly old fart with flyaway hair and a penchant for socialism and multiple homes.
You think Chelsea would bravely defend me?
After all, George Washington hosted a production of Julius Caesar in 1790.
No. She wouldn’t defend me.
But of course I wouldn’t do it.
William Shakespeare didn’t write his plays just to satisfy my own personal dislike of Hillary Clinton.
Besides, I’m not a naval-gazing Leftist. Not to mention, I possess a common-sense filter.
And that is something Leftists lack.
The truth is, they wouldn’t want one even if we paid for the upgrade.
Like squalling infants, they can’t see beyond their own immediate wants and needs. And when they don’t get what they want, they pitch a thermonuclear-sized tantrum.
As a result, the Left lifts its leg and craps on everything.
Nothing is safe from their blind hatred and insufferable sanctimony.
Not football, awards shows, farmers’ markets, family-owned bakeries.
Not even Shakespeare.
Their obsession with Donald Trump has turned these Liberal cranks into Lili Taylor’s character Corey Flood from the movie “Say Anything.”
Everything they do, everything they say, everything they write is about Trump.
To borrow from Corey, he’s invaded their soul.
But instead of singing, “Joe lies. Joe lies when he cries,” they turn Julius Caesar into Donald Trump and stab him to death night after night.
They’re self-absorbed, petulant children who can’t handle rejection or loss.
And when America rejected their brand of naval-gazing identity politics, they lost all reason.
What were you expecting from emotional cripples like these?
Art? Understated brilliance? Nuance and subtext?
That’s never going to happen.
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