Greenlights & The Art of the Deal
Two different people? Are they really that different, what separates their ideals and experiences?
Matthew McConaughey expertly entertains, inspires without pushing self-help, and provides snapshots (literally) of his strange and intoxicating life. Famous, good-looking, and sexual. Matthew talks big, almost identically as he does in his movies, entertaining us with grand, tall-tale-like stories, depictions of glory moments and hilarious family memories.
One of the first memories Matthew gives us is that of his parents, his mother and father antagonizing each other, throwing objects and oozing blood. Of course in their rage, they feel complete passion and desire, collapse into each other as if they are the only two people in the world who could have ever heard, seen, or experienced their madness. It’s careless, wild, and somewhat sexy.
Later in Greenlights, Matthew walks us through a couple side quests that are inspired by what he calls “wet dreams”. These dreams and excursions sound a little familiar.
Important note: we envy actors because they can slip out of skins, over and over, to experience life in all directions and circumstances. At some point, they remove the skin, no consequences, no one gets hurt. For anyone who’s had to watch their families raw-dogging life, pulling the 9-5, coming home to cold sandwiches and milk instead of wine and caviar, the allure of possessing several lives and never actually raw-dogging the show is of course absolutely necessary to their existence. Right? Feeling important, being important, all because you could feel intensely, be seen by millions, and feel heard because a good movie isn’t a good movie if no one can put themselves/ their story in the movie. Otherwise, without this superhero-like actor’s ability, we’re just souls closeted by the every day grind.
The “wet dreams” that compelled Matthew to travel across seas, indulge in the unknown and sacrifice his conformity are much like the experiences of passion between his parents. His mother would leave, explore her freedom, and travel back always to the welcoming embrace of his father. Even in fits of rage, they’d inevitably make love, losing control of every piece of doubt between them. Inevitably, Matthew would travel back to his over-the-top, existential breakthroughs to figure himself out, I point out - in the least uncomfortable and sexiest way. Inevitably, Matthew would get bored in his skin and need to feel the comfort of the passionate, mad, and mysterious places that would take him away from monotony.
But I digress, nothing about Matthew’s book is surprising. I do, however, have an issue with one note he highlights over and over again as if to prove to us it’s the right way to think. What’s worse - doing something bad or getting caught doing something bad? Matthew gives us a few memories of his “hard” times to demonstrate his ideal - it’s much worse to get caught doing the thing than the act of doing the thing. What kind of malarkey is this? And although we see Matthew’s father literally beating this ideal in his head, we have to wonder if sometime in adulthood Matthew wouldn’t change his mind to see clearly that doing bad is bad in and of itself. Getting caught is a consequence, it happens because we did something bad. But, given that Matthew is an actor, living in different skins over and over, his grasp of consequences and reality is far out of reach - that’s a common person’s knowledge, right? Common people, such as you and me, we know what consequences are.
Greenlights is hilarious, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. But I have to wonder if the elites (I’ll get into Trump soon) live so far beyond the surface that the ability to truly grasp our attention, except by having much more money and power, is even possible. Without your being famous and or rich, I don’t know that I’d really want to hear your story. Do you really want to hear mine? Would you be interested in analyzing the data, getting to the soul of my writing, reaching in to make conclusions of your own? That’s the real meat and potatoes. That’s what I want to sink my teeth in.
Since this is more for myself, I can be completely honest and raw.
So I examine the likenesses of two men - both fabulously rich - both existing in a separate dimension from the rest of us who aren’t familiar with glitz and glamour.
Whereas Matthew seeks to awe, entertain, and meet us on a plane of consciousness, Trump simply exists in the state of the grind. He’s a rock, as he states. He delivers, and we walk with him through several deals, phone calls, and meetings.
Zoning laws, civic planning meetings, architectural drawings, light bulbs and hinges - it’s the details that get a little boring, but they all lead to one thing that becomes increasingly clear toward the last chapter. Trump loves New York, up and down. From the nitty gritty to the elite functions in clubs - Trump doesn’t forget to find the edge. I’ll admit, when I turned the first page, I expected a bombardment of achievements, accounts of excellence and every review of how greatly esteemed Donald Trump is in the right circles. “Here’s the formula to success, and I’m about to inspire the shit out of you” is exactly what I anticipated because I judge Trump’s character as 90% arrogance and 10% genius. I humbly accept that I was wrong about the book.
Trump doesn’t provide any formulas. Instead, we get somewhat of a resume, a portfolio with a few insights that aren’t deeper than surface level - you can make up your own mind if there’s a better way to handle business. I am unfamiliar with the writer who helped in the creation of Art of the Deal, but I hand it to them - they knew what they were doing. Anyone, business-minded or not, can appreciate Art of the Deal and get a little picture of who Trump is without having their hands held page-to-page. If you and I were in conversation about Art of the Deal, I’d ask what you think of the title.
