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Nothing but his own feces: A Chinese ghost story for Donald Trump

Dec 12 2015
878jeff dorchen

Trump isn't Mussolini, or even Bertolt Brecht's Arturo Ui. He's not Huey Long, he's not Joe McCarthy. I look at his face and I see the ghost of nothing. No ghosts! It's as if he's been beating with a ghostbusting stick. As I indicated earlier, I'm pretty good at seeing ghosts in living people, but sometimes a person is two dimensional, so there's nothing for a ghost to latch onto.

Jeff Dorchen falls in love with a pug-nosed, depression-era looking lady ghost, looks into the Chinese government's ghost movie ban, stumbles into a book deemed Too Hot for Confucious, and finds stories of love, sex, ghosts, goats, ghost-goat-babies and even a tale for the specter of Donald Trump himself - appropriately involving death, fire and coprophagy.

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Jeff Dorchen

According to his contacts on LinkedIn, Jeff Dorchen can do just about anything. He’s a visual artist, songwriter/musician, actor, essayist, poet, playwright and screenwriter.

 

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