Following poor feedback after my last iteration of this project, I put it on hold over the summer. There was potential to develop the idea, but I was unsure where to take it and needed to put space between myself and the work for a few weeks to come back and look at it with a sharper focus.
The idea of turning the Trump years into Loteria cards came from my initial translation project, in which I translated the film Clueless. However, the cards in that case did not work because the film was too divorced from the intention of the cards – it felt less like a translation and more like an imposition – and while it was fun to make, it lacked the depth I was seeking.
Loteria is played much like bingo – each player has a 4 x 4 board and has to fill a certain space on it according to what is agreed at the beginning of the game (a column, a row, four corners, a diagonal, etc). The cards are picked by a “cantor,” who then has to say a short line or aphorism for each card that comes up. The fun in the game comes from the verbal abilities of the cantor, the better the pun they make they more fun the game.
In this iteration, I wanted the Trump cards to have depth because their meaning was coded into the meaning of the Loteria cards. This mirrored the way in which Trump’s language nearly always contains thinly veiled dog-whistles, but using Mexican puns and humor in return.
The Mexicans are experts at humorous word puns, there is no one better to create a savagely funny, perfect turn of phrase. It is a characteristic of their worldview and character, and I wanted the cards to intentionally reflect that understanding. Each card is meant to have multiple layers of meaning, some more obvious than others, but all speaking with a humor and wit typical of the Mexican lexicon and culture.
El sol, the sun. In the Loteria, the Sol card represents new beginnings, an idea Trump sold to Americans by running as an anti-Establishment candidate. His candidacy and presidency however, ushered in the beginning of something else entirely, a dark period in American politics and one that continues to loom large over the country as it faces down the long journey to the 2024 elections. In this card, Trump is turned into el “solazo,” the -azo at the end creating a negative connotation – the sun is too bright, it is too harsh, it is too hot. It also borrows from history, harkening back to Louis IV, the “Sun King,” the idea that the world revolves around one man an appropriate symbol of Trump’s ego.
La botella, the bottle. Some of the cards are simpler than others, and this is the case with the bottle. Here the Diet Coke is a symbol of Trump’s deep character flaw manifested as a lack of self restraint, an addiction, a compulsion – he famously drinks an average of 12 Diet Cokes per day.
La mano, the hand. This card is simply there to poke fun at Trump’s small hand making a recognizably Trumpian gesture.
La corona, the crown. This card avails itself of a play on words on coronavirus – the virus being the crowning failure of the Trump administration. In the Loteria the crown actually symbolizes the colonization of Mexico by Spain – a painful, tragic and traumatic time in Mexico’s history – an event with some similarities with the experience of the pandemic in the US.
El diablito, the devil. The verse that is said when the devil card appears is “de patas y cuernos espera su momento,” which roughly translates to the idea that the devil is waiting in the wings for his opportunity to do harm. There is no more apt parallel for this card than Don Jr.