Forbidden Planet

I have returned, after a lengthy lapse, to remake a movie on Republican lines, Forbidden Planet. I can't, however, seem to get past casting, and not for want of good candidates. There are far too many to start. Help me here. I can't picture anyone but Lindsey Graham as Robby the Robot. Would he work?

In the crucial role of Dr Morbius we have to evaluate the insidious ids of some scary characters and I fear I may not come back from that intact. We will cast him on the basis of the id alone, whose is darkest and deepest and most representative of irrational, right-wing fears. There are monsters there.

The monster itself is easy. It's Hispanics, Muslims and other vessels, made-up as carriers of the inner, repressed nastiness of the collective id of conservatives, embodying all the aggression and insecurity, objectified. They are props, vehicles and substitutes, innocent victims of the primal, conservative fear.

The fear of themselves. Who's number one? They are, the punitive masterminds of their own destruction and the destruction of us all. We are all inadvertent casualties, incidental to the id's imperatives. It's why it doesn't register, when people suffer and die all over the place because of them.

The primal drama must play out. Or maybe we should stop it. We're enabling it, after all. For now we are prisoners, which is a fair result and representation of that right-wing drive, with its cynicism and contempt for life, except for that of the "unborn," those innocents. The rest of us are guilty.

Guilty of having been born, it seems, of having begun our sentence in the prison, plantation or work-farm of life, however you choose to see it, and it's wrong to try to escape or make it less than unpleasant, the point of every plank in a unified and comprehensive conservative platform of misery.