Graham Plaster

culture + diplomacy + ethics + smart power + technology + humanities + entrepreneurship + philosophy

Wearable, Snackable, Shareable, On-Demand, Streaming

Picture this: everyone around you is wearing virtual reality contact lenses connected by bluetooth to their smart watches and phones, and to biometric implants monitoring health and energy, and cloud-networked clothing with various comfort or performance enhancements. Sure, some among them are counter-cultural, choosing to shed the wearable tech in favor of old fashioned (and yet trendy) “simple” clothes.  But as you look around, it is clear that there is a current which is sweeping us all towards a world where more and more is connected “informationally”.  Everything is wearable, snackable, shareable, on-demand and streaming. In this world, information is constantly raining down on us. Let’s call this information deluged world “[s]eattle” because people in Seattle adapt to the rain rather than moving away.

In this world, information is constantly raining down on us. Let’s call this information deluged world “[s]eattle” because people in Seattle adapt to the rain rather than moving away.

In seattle I need an umbrella and a rain jacket to have any kind of a social life.  In seattle there are pleasant storms that water my potted plants, and there are storms that knock down power lines.  In seattle, the rain is part of our identity as a community.

The information deluge will be like that.  Some will move away, but for most of us, it will be a force that we adapt to.  How will we adapt?  Here are 5 of my many predictions:

  1. Despite hopes and fears about AI and big data algorithms, people at large will still heavily depend on their social networks to curate the information around them.  The internet of things will be organized (increasingly) around social relationships.  While there are many instances where relationships are organized around information, this eventually feeds back into the more human pattern of organizing information around relationships.  Technology will evolve to support the human desire to be social and connected in meaningful ways.
  2. Meaningful connections that are made through unique social channels (i.e. a Roku station for NASA aficionados with a corresponding Facebook page) will lead to some stratification between social groups.  This is because, as we are able to find people more like ourselves, we are less inclined to engage (professionally and politically) with others around us of different opinions. Birds of a feather flock together, and when technology fosters this phenomenon, some flocks get bigger than we expect (cat video lovers?) and some shrink (brick and mortar associations).
  3. Many technologies that currently exist will fail to gain popular usage because creators won’t anticipate human nature and desires.
  4. There will be an increasing premium on humans who are good at curating the good from the bad – the good tech from the useless, the good articles from the clickbait, the good music from the blah, the good opportunities from the time-sucks.  These curators will be our trusted sources in a noisy world.  Obtaining status as a trusted curator will require more than a high academic degree, fame or money.  It will require consistent, excellent choices that become a track record worth trusting.
  5. One of the main obstacles to technology’s potential will be litigiousness.  If we determine that driverless cars could save thousands of lives every year, but are afraid of what a vehicle’s algorithm would do in a lose-lose scenario (and the implications for who would be at fault), we could become wrapped around the axle with the law. Likely story.  On the other hand, law is one of the only things holding back technology’s intrusion into every corner of our lives, so it is a double edged sword.

Reflections on 9-11

This is my chapter excerpted from the book In the Shadow of Greatness, true accounts from the first Naval Academy class to graduate after 9-11 which was praised by Tom Brokaw as a “must read for all Americans” and made the Chief of Naval Operations official reading list.  I recommend the book not because I helped to edit it, but because of all of the other stories included which give a valuable perspective on how 9-11 shaped our generation, a generation wedged between Gen-x and the Millennials.

It’s an hour until midnight on September 11th, 2010 and I am on board a plane bound for Jordan. The small monitor embedded in the headrest of the seat in front of me displays a GPS map of the East Coast of the United States. Location names are written in yellow Arabic script, making the familiar geography seem like a foreign land.

After a few seconds the screen switches over to a graphic of the plane with an arrow pointing towards Mecca, to aid the observant with their prayers. Mothers in hijab are trying to keep restless children happy through the red eye, but there will be some crying all night. It can’t be helped. As I recall my multiple PCS moves, flying and driving across the country with children in tow, my heart goes out to the parents.

I’m a Foreign Area Officer now, one of less than 250 Naval Officers who specialize in foreign language, culture and history. This sub-specialty was created in the wake of 9/11 because the Admirals and Generals who advise political leaders can’t find a junior officer who speaks two languages; much less possessed of the cultural awareness necessary to counsel decision makers. And although my ticket into the community was specialization in Iranian social media, needs of the Navy summoned me to an Army desk in Rosslyn, Virginia as an Operations Officer for UN Peacekeeping. There aren’t many US Military members involved in UN Peacekeeping; in fact just over 30 total. I handle admin and support for the Officers sent on one year IA (Individual Augmentation) assignments to Israel, Iraq and Egypt.

Amman is an intermediate stop en route to Iraq where I’ll be visiting two of the four US Military members serving as UN peacekeepers there. Yesterday marked the end of Ramadan which, by the numbers, could have been a more dangerous time to fly. Flying to the Middle East on 9-11 on the other hand, feels a bit surreal, especially since the flight originated in DC and laid over in New York. On the TV in the lounge, President Obama made a speech to smooth over the tension caused by a pastor in Florida who was threatening to burn a Quran.
Despite news reports of unrest in New York City and Afghanistan, JFK airport was quiet and security was relatively pain free. Dinner on the plane was good – some kind of spiced chicken. I couldn’t quite place the flavor, but washed it down with a free Corona. I spoke at length with the guy in the seat next to me in my broken Arabic about Jordanian weather, the job market in America, the difficulties of making money as a mechanic and the sacrifices we make for our children. I have four now. He has five. We both congratulate each other with a thousand congratulations, “alf mabrook!” As our conversation wanes and the night deepens, I can’t help but reflect on this day nine years ago and marvel at the course my life has taken.

I was on my way to a Creative Writing class, one of my favorites as an English major at the Academy. I’d finished breakfast early with my squad and was making a bee-line down Stribling Walk headed for Mahan Hall. The weather, as I recall, was typical Annapolis fall fare, beautiful and crisp. A youngster walked past me. I didn’t know him.

He called out to me, “Hey, a plane just flew into the World Trade Center.” I assumed he was referring to a low slow flyer of some kind, a freak accident, but his alarmed tone gave me the sense that this was more than just the news he heard at the breakfast table. He obviously felt compelled to share it with me, a stranger, for a reason. A few minutes later I arrived at the classroom in the basement of Mahan. I was the first one there and the room was still quiet. The new classrooms had pull-down screens with projectors hooked up to cable TV. I extended the screen and cued up the live news feed just as a few other students came in. They asked what was going on and I explained what little I knew, that a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers. The Professor arrived and then the rest of the students a moment later. We all stood and watched in silence as the news commentators reported on things they could not see, things that we could see happening live behind them, the impact of the second tower, the fire, the people jumping, the cascade of smoke and ash as the towers collapsed, the confused and grieving news anchors. The hour passed without any discussion and we wandered to the next class with a vague sense of appropriate process. A few rooms down the hall I found my seat in another English class. By then everyone knew. The Professor walked in. We opened In Memoriam, Tennyson’s classic poem wrestling with pain and death. She began to read and then stopped as tears came. She left the room. I tore the pages from the book and tucked them away to keep.

Turning toward our final descent in Jordan I note the bleached landscape. I would later learn that Jordan, compared to other countries, has the fourth lowest supply of fresh water. Without massive reserves of oil or gas, indeed, without even enough water, Jordan manages to get by as the safe place to do business. It is the crossroads between many points of commerce, and stands to gain the most by supplying one of the world’s most valuable commodities, security.

After a 30 minute shuttle ride, and another “alf mabrook” from the driver on hearing of my progeny, I arrive at Al Meriden Hotel in Amman. It is quite beautiful inside, with turbaned men smoking and talking in the lobby, women in expensive looking hijabs pushing strollers and corralling large families. When I get to my room, I unpack my laptop and set up Skype. The broadband connection is excellent and I quickly find myself connected to the world I know. An Army FAO friend of mine is in Pakistan at the War College there. We bring up the video and chat about our kids, learning language and nuances about Middle Eastern culture. Over Skype, I can hear the call to evening prayer beginning to crescendo. We say goodbye so he can have a virtual date with his wife and 5 kids who are in Monterey, California.


Several weeks have passed since my trip. The time in Jordan, while filled with valuable experiences, seems insignificant next to the import of our meetings in Iraq. I was able to sit in on meetings with key leaders at the United Nations headquarters in Iraq, the US Embassy and Operational Planners leading the way for our troops to withdraw. Our chief concern during the course of that week was to connect the dots between all three entities as the balance of power was shifting away from US military toward the State Department. It became clear that the UN would be changing its security posture in ways that would make it increasingly difficult to send US military along on missions. I returned to the States with a number of items to monitor. The SITREPS from the field began to carry much more meaning in the context of my visit.

Not long after my return from Iraq, tragedy struck, but from an unexpected quarter. A US Army reservist serving in Liberia had tripped and fallen to his death from a rooftop deck. He was only weeks away from coming home to his career, wife and children. He had survived tours in Iraq and Afghanistan only to fall prey to the asymmetrical warfare of chance. His fellow peacekeepers returned to the States soon after, shaken not only by the tragedy of his death, but also by the heartrending conditions in Liberia. As we debriefed, one of them explained to me how much the rule of law had been degraded since the civil war. The infrastructure for education and governance was gone, but even more tragically, the social fabric had begun to unravel in ways that made progress seem Sisyphean. If you could imagine a state of nature, one of them said, that would be like Liberia. “Lord of the Flies?” I asked. “Of course there are two visions of the state of nature – Hobbes and Rousseau – one is nasty and brutish while the other is noble and good,” I said. I was assured that Hobbes was closer to the truth for the situation in Liberia. I couldn’t help but think back to Tennyson’s analysis of the human condition, like Hobbes, as “red in tooth and claw” (In Memoriam, Canto VVI).

The many pointless tragedies of life, pummeling us from every side in the news and social media, raise our awareness certainly, our compassion hopefully, and our defenses inevitably. Bad news cascades like floors of the Twin Towers falling in on themselves, and yet we find a way to survive and even, on good days, to thrive. And that is where Tennyson leaves off as well. Like Hobbes, he sees the human condition as lacking something. But by the end of In Memoriam, he has consoled himself with his faith:

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,
And gather dust and chaff, and call
To what I feel is Lord of all,
And faintly trust the larger hope. (Canto LV)

As I look east in anticipation of a career at the crossroads of culture and language, I continually look for the common denominators. I think the Navy, and the Naval Academy, helped develop this personal philosophy.

Whatever the human condition may be, and whatever one may say of it, it is certainly true that we share it. Likewise, I agree with Tennyson, that we share in a larger hope, that in the end the cascade of bad news will not be the end of the story.


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Folksonomy, Folktology, Language Games & Pinterest

Dan Doney likes to talk about folksonomies.  I give him the credit for bringing the term into my more recent conversations, although it has been around at least 10 years in the knowledge management circles.  Essentially, a folksonomy is a taxonomy managed by folks (read: the crowd), and became a thing in the hay day of via its social bookmarking feature.  Group tagging of photos on Facebook doesn’t impress anyone anymore, but we still have massive information management challenges that this basic capability serves to address, namely that the crowd (given the correct problem and correct crowd, i.e. Waze), has a vested interest to collaborate in organizing the information to solve the problem. (I always like to emphasize that these arrangements depend heavily on a smart understanding of the crowd and the problem.  You have to clearly articulate the value proposition to the crowd and have a strong understanding of what they really want in order to make it work.)

Recently I read this rather old blog post from 2005 about the concept of folktologies, drawing a distinction with folksonomies. The fact that both words still get the red squiggly spell check line under them tells you that the concepts might be more important than the words themselves. The last paragraph of the blog post jumped out at me:

Imagine a folksonomy combined with an ontology — a “folktology.” In a folktology, users could instantly propose or modify ontological classes and properties in the same manner that they do with tags in tagging systems. The most popular ontological constructs … would “rise to the top” and self-amplify, while the less-instantiated ones would “fall to the bottom” over time. In this way an emergent, self-organizing, and self-pruning ontology could emerge within a community. Such a system would have the ease and adaptability of a folksonomy plus the semantic richness and formal structure of an ontology.”

I immediately thought of how Pinterest boards have become just that: ontological classes organized in an endless, collective human imagination.  What is so interesting is that each board, once organized, becomes its own linguistic context.  Once I discover a board I like, the category makes sense to me as the unifying theme. The name of that Pinterest board on the other hand, might not have occurred to me, or even worked as a search term in an older search model.

This, in turn, reminded me of Jean-Francois Lyotard’s writings in his 1979 book, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge and specifically his assertions about “language games”.  Language games, according to Lyotard, are the multiplicity of communities of meaning, and the innumerable systems in which meanings are produced  (that his assertions were about the inability to make assertions is a subject for another time).  Lyotard was writing in response to Wittgenstein, who explained language games thus:

“We can also think of the whole process of using words in as one of those games by means of which children learn their native language. I will call these games ‘language-games’ and will sometimes speak of a primitive language as a language-game. And the processes of naming the stones and of repeating words after someone might also be called language-games. Think of much of the use of words in games like ring-a-ring-a-roses.” –“Language-games” from Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations

Not to get too far down in the weeds with philology nerdery, but my point with all of this is that the concept of folktology allows each person to create their own language game, to a certain extent, and allow others to participate. People organize around information, and also organize information around themselves.  In the process, we create new linguistic contexts / new folktologies.  Pinterest does it well.  I look forward to seeing what other platforms will in the future.


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Ethnocentrism, Cultural Relativism, Clientitis, Human Rights & Core Values

This article from yesterday’s NY Times (U.S. Soldiers Told to Ignore Sexual Abuse of Boys by Afghan Allies) highlights a point I have been making for a while about the limits of cultural relativism as a training objective.  Put bluntly, the core values or human rights standards of an organization should not be stripped away entirely in an effort to obtain academic objectivity.  In the long run, this runs counter to the mission of the organization.

When considering culture training for business or government employees, two distinct frameworks exist. The first, “cultural relativism”, is rooted in the academic ideals of Anthropology which seeks to study culture objectively as an end unto itself. By maintaining objectivity, the anthropologist aims to strip away “ethnocentrism” that would impede the unbiased study of other cultures. This is well and good as a methodology for academic exploration, but it has serious limitations as a framework for training towards specific job tasks.

The rebuttal to this is often that ethnocentrism and cultural relativism exist on opposite ends of a spectrum, and that a healthy way forward requires a balance.  Perhaps this is good enough for government work, as they say, but I think there are some other points to consider before we dust off our hands.

The State Department has done a number of studies on what has been called, in academic circles, “clientitis” and in more crude slang, “going native”.  An example of this might be an American FSO serving overseas who begins to view the officials of the host country government as the persons he is serving.  During the Nixon administration the State Department’s Global Outlook Program (GLOP) attempted to combat clientitis by periodically rotating FSOs outside their area of specialization.

If we attempt to place clientitis on the spectrum between ethnocentrism and cultural relativism, we have a challenge.  It would seem that clientitis should be at the opposite end of the spectrum from ethnocentrism and cultural relativism could be in the middle of the line.  Or perhaps clientitis is just ethnocentrism through the looking glass. Whatever the case, the historical problem of clientitis sheds light on the fact that fighting ethnocentrism is not the only objective of culture training.  All training and education should be done with leadership and core values as underpinnings.  This means that the individual is given an opportunity to test and “affirm” his or her values as he or she reflects on differing perspectives (as opposed to stripping away or subjugating these values).

The second framework for training on culture, “universalism”, is rooted in a tradition of political philosophy affecting international laws and multilateral agreements. Clyde Kluckhohn, usually portrayed as a Universalist, concluded that true cultural relativism precluded moral criticism of any cultural practice, including slavery, cannibalism, Nazism, or communism. Universalism, by contrast, cherishes diversity among world cultures but also attempts to establish international standards through consensus, rejecting practices such as trafficking in persons, subjugation of people groups, genocide, torture, racial discrimination, and discrimination against women.

The academic ideal of cultural relativism becomes problematic in practice as governments grapple with how to regulate certain behaviors. One case in point is the UN stance on female genital mutilation (FGM). The UN has published documents with US support that state that FGM violates the human rights of girls when performed on them as infants. Cultural relativism, as a framework, might see FGM as neither good nor bad. Proponents of cultural relativism make the argument that nothing is universal and that it is ethnocentric to assert any cultural standards around the globe.

My last point is that words fail us at every turn.  Both “cultural relativism” and “universalism” have issues with what some linguists call their “dangerous sense” which is the overly simplified or misleading definition they could most easily fall into.  For those who live in ivory towers, it might be fun to debate definitions all day, but for practitioners, the more important part how the ideas perform in real life. So I only bring up the big words in order to get to the ideas behind them.

Lance Cpl. Gregory Buckley Jr. swore to defend the US Constitution with his life.  He also recited and most likely memorized the Marine Corps values, which is perhaps why he struggled to ignore the young boys being raped in Afghanistan.  Here are the Marine Corps core values:


Further Reading:


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The Top 10 LinkedIn Profile Photos

LinkedIn recently embarked on a roadshow to offer free professional photo shoots for those wanting a perfect LinkedIn profile pic.  If you were lucky enough to get to one of the photo shoots (they were only in DC for 1 day), I am guessing that it may have felt a little bit like class pictures for Kindergarten.  The roadshow reinforced a few important themes we have seen and will continue to see across social media:

  1. while image isn’t everything, it certainly can mean a lot, so if a picture says 1000 words, make every word of the 1000 count
  2. social platforms which were previously text dominant are looking for ways to introduce higher quality images and content into the platform – early adopters are image conscious while maintaining authenticity
  3. there are a million ways to get image wrong and perhaps half a million ways to get it right, so rules can always be broken if broken smartly

 Since I have personally reviewed somewhere in the ballpark of 40,000 LinkedIn profiles, I wanted to do some show and tell on 10 excellent profile photos.  I am only including people I am connected to, so this isn’t actually an exhaustive search of the entire LinkedIn database (sorry to disappoint).

Before I list the 10, I want to hit a few key pointers I like to see in a good profile pic:

  • #1 rule is go with your gut – a picture should create a positive emotional response.  Despite anything else I write, this is the most important rule and should trump anything else
  • Cropping – the pic needs to be properly cropped (there is plenty of room for interpretation here) which essentially means that the excess is trimmed so that the eye is drawn to the appropriate focal point in the pic.  This can be hard to pull off when you are cropping a group photo.  Use of negative or white space is always important in design, and very difficult to use well in a small pic, but still possible.
  • Color – black and white is very classy, but runs the risk of poor contrast.  If you go with a B&W pic, make sure you have high res and good contrast.  Otherwise, a color pic is generally better for social.
  • Place – learn from political campaign photos: a picture that gives you an authentic sense of “place” and tells a story wins over one which looks like it was shot in a studio or staged.  This isn’t to say that a staged photo can’t look authentic or even be authentic – we live in a world where the two worlds are blended – but “authenticity”  “place”  and “telling a story” are all important aspects of your pic.  Using group photos, pictures with VIPs or pictures of media exposure can help build your brand, but often these pictures are not the best shots of you, so you need to be picky.  Also, the profile pic is about you, not the people around you, so be sure to make yourself the clear focal point if there are any other faces in the pic.
  • Clarity – blurry images are no good.  Use a low F-stop (shallow depth of field) for a clear face shot and the out of focus background can make it look terrific
  • Attitude – depends on your line of work, but the simplest guide is to look both kind and competent.
  • Dress – also depends on your line of work, but business casual tends to work well for close cropping because it frames the face.  If you wear a t-shirt or something low cut, you may end up leaving too much to the imagination in a tightly cropped photo.
  • Squinching – this is a word that some portrait photographers use to describe when you are just slightly tensing your eyes.  Google it and try it in a selfie. See if it works for you, but don’t let it turn you into Zoolander.
  • Eye contact – generally, looking into the camera lens when the picture is taken creates a very engaging photo, especially if you can master a natural smile. There are a number of conditions where not making eye contact with the camera can work, and this is something you have to follow your gut on.  The bottom line is, eye contact is more personal and works well if you are presenting yourself as a people person.
  • Action – too many profile pics end up presenting a static version of you.  A great pic not only has context and place, but also has some sort of action.  Action tells a story.  This can be accomplished by introducing an active hand gesture into a speaking engagement pic, or it could be a few things in the background that indicate you are located in an active environment.

OK, here are my top 10.  Feel free to add your own in the comments.

David Bray – great eye contact with the camera for a personal connection, great context to tell a story about his experience, great cropping to balance both

Brandon Friedman – well done B&W with texture, contrast and place.  Great eye contact with camera.

Lewis Shephard – great action shot with gravitas and sense of context. Excellent cropping

Cole Stryker – nice use of shallow depth of field, eye contact…Only a guy named Cole Stryker could pull off this severe stare, but it definitely works for who he is

Elizabeth (Kreft) Brienza – with a jet in the background, you know the context, but the cropping is great and she connects with the camera

Jennifer Walsh – excellent use of shallow depth of field, eye contact and color

April Lenhard – terrific action and context pic. Really communicates the kind and competent message.

Anne Gibbon – not only does the context tell a story, but her face communicates that she is telling a story.  Without making eye contact with the camera, this one still feels very connected and authentic

Suzanne (Bottorff) Wrasse – probably a professional shot, but unique in the intensity of eye contact with the camera.  Cropping is excellent as well and color really pops.

LTG Mike Flynn – tells a story and minimizes emphasis on the face, which is an interesting rule breaker.  However, for someone who has already achieved public prominence, there is less of a need to reinforce the personal brand, so less emphasis on the close cropped photo.

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Re-imagining Meetings

I propose that we re-imagine meetings once again and make one small tweak – let’s make them a lot longer…What I mean is, with a platform like Voxer, one could, in effect, hold time-lapsed (asynchronous) meetings. 

Innovation isn’t just about technology.  It is also about re-imagining human processes.  Perhaps no human process is more mundane and in need of  re-imagining than the business meeting.  We’ve tried to do just that with myriad teleconferencing platforms.  Here’s a great parody of some of the pain points we have felt during conference calls:


But with the advent of new group communications platforms like Slack and Voxer, I propose that we re-imagine meetings once again and make one small tweak – let’s make them a lot longer.  What I mean is, with a platform like Voxer, one could, in effect, hold time-lapsed meetings. 

What it might look like:

You could open a board meeting on Monday morning with the agenda posted by the chairman, take comments throughout the day and through Tuesday, then take motions for new initiatives all day Wednesday and call for a vote on Thursday, then make final announcements and task assignments on Friday.  Perhaps the entire meeting would take less than an hour, but would be split up across the white space of the work week instead of needing to be coordinated in the middle of everyone’s busy schedule.

For those already using Voxer, Slack or similar platforms effectively, this is simply an acknowledgement of what we are doing – calling it what it is.  And perhaps I am proposing that we formalize it a little bit more, only where helpful.

I have been suggesting this approach recently to several groups of which I am a part, especially when there is a consistent failure to hold well attended calls or meetings.  The major push back I have heard is that holding a time-lapsed meeting on a platform like Voxer would be too technical for some people.  I have to wonder though whether the real impediment to trying it is the leap of technological innovation, or the leap of process innovation.

Public Relations Wormholes

Jason Calacanis (This Week in Startups) in his recent news roundup made some rather obvious but profound assertions that context matters when it comes to public figures who try to make jokes (he talks about it in the last few minutes of the podcast).  He insists (I paraphrase) that business leaders, politicians and otherwise serious leaders should not attempt humor because they aren’t funny, or more accurately, aren’t positioned in a funny context.  A comedian, by contrast, can get away with social or political criticism that would be deemed offensive or inappropriate or simply not funny in any other context.

As I have blogged before, there has been a shift in power between political leadership and the media.  Media saturation has vested cameramen and the entertainment community with unprecedented power to shape public perception (which is why celebrities can often have a legitimate edge at getting elected over home grown heroes).

The media is now a diversified entity, spread across every device which both broadcasts and receives.  Potentially, any one of us could become the next SNL micro context to take a politician down a notch (which reminds me of this episode of Black Mirror – such an incredible show).

But Calacanis, his awareness of technological trajectories notwithstanding, holds fast to a traditional idea that these contexts have unmovable lines.  Politicians and business leaders can’t (apparently) get away with acting like, say, Donald Trump, and survive politically.  I would have agreed with him, but it seems that times, they are a-changing.

Hillary Clinton’s cameo on SNL was an obvious attempt to jump through the public relations wormhole that exists between the two universes of comedy and politics.  We’ve seen it a lot recently with Steven Colbert, John Oliver and other political satirists hosting political candidates as pseudo-comedic guests.

There are a lot of implications.  Perhaps in the not too distant future we will see SNL launch a political campaign consulting arm (only partially joking, if I am allowed to do that here).


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