WEEKLY SOUTHERN ARTS
"Sometime the boogaloo 
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              Serpico Revisited 

Picture
Serpico Revisited - by Frankie "The Poltergeist" Buttafucco 

Near the finale of the great 1973 film “Serpico,” with Al Pacino, officer Frank Serpico (Pacino) along with a group of 4 or 5 undercover cops, knock on the door at a ratty, New York apt house, where a drug deal is going down. Pacino’s character is through the door first, but gets stuck between the officers at his back and the dealers on the other side of the door, who are armed. Unable to get his hands free, to get his gun or move to retreat—Serpico is trapped, and takes a bullet to the face. It’s a cold blooded shooting, and the cops are just as guilty of attempted murder as the drug dealer that pulled the trigger. This was payback. Frank Serpico was the last honest cop, in a system so rife with corruption that he threatened to bring down one of the biggest police departments in the world. It was also a true story.

No doubt, this same story is as old and constant as the first humans who organized themselves into competing groups. Cops and robbers. Cane and Able. The democrats and republicans. This last group being among the greatest and most vile of all. Great, because they’re American (and please, don’t give me your liberal bullshit about the flaws of America—because, as a former liberal, I can recite that shit chapter and verse. I was reading Noam Chomsky, like a religious icon when you weren’t a gleam in your father’s, father’s eye.) Why am I saying this? Does it matter? Probably not. I hate to say that. But say it, I will, nonetheless.

“Trumpico!” Not Serpico! Trumpico!

Yes, on the one side of the white house door is Trump, his face jammed into stasis by the republicans at his back, who would joyously plug him in the head with a 45, if they thought they could away with it. And, on the other side of the door, is the democrats, as evil a group of sons-o-bitches as Satan ever produced! This I know, having been one.

What is Trump—or Trumpico—to do? Take the bullet? From who’s gun? Which side will pull the trigger? The blazing scum-rat republicans? Or, the spawns of Satan democrats?

“But wait a minute!” We’re talking about Trump here, not a mere mortal. Can Trump dodge bullets? You bet! He can move between the death rays aimed his direction, like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers—together—dancing in the dark—a darkness that is illuminated by death rays!

Anyway, the parallel seemed obvious to me.

Frankie “The Poltergeist” Buttafucco