Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

We knew this day would come.

At least, those of us who’ve been written off by Kathleen Kennedy and her clone army of SJW shills as butthurt fanboys, bigots and Russian bots. We knew. We absolutely knew it would come down to this. As sure as the prophecy of The Chosen One.

We knew this film would be an unmitigated catastrophe. It was merely a question of magnitude.

We knew there was no way JJ Abrams was going to pull off a satisfying conclusion, let alone a coherent movie, out from the trash fire known as The Last Jedi.

We knew that this whole God forsaken sequel trilogy was a meandering hodgepodge of SJW talking points pretending to be a story.

We read all the leaks on Reddit and facepalmed at each revelation.

We knew that none of these characters had an ounce of real charisma, chemistry or charm.

We knew that both JJ Abrams and Rian Johnson ran roughshod over the canonical pillars of the Star Wars mythology for the express purpose of pandering to their imaginary legions of woke superfans.

We knew that there was no real story here at all.

We knew this was an unplanned and haphazard patchwork of half-baked ideas and malformed characters; an execrable and contemptuous spitball of a film directed squarely in the eye of every person who ever cared about this franchise.

We knew it, and yet, all we could do is watch from the sidelines as JJ Abrams, Rian Johnson and Kathleen Kennedy absolutely demolished one of pop culture’s most durable mythologies like a three-headed Admiral Holdo Cerberus running a kamikaze mission on First Order Star Destroyers. All while being insulted and attacked by Johnson and his media minions as trolls and bigots for daring to have a critical view of his shitty movie.

Young fools! Only now, at the end, do you understand!

So how bad is it?

Honestly, not that bad. Search your feelings. You know it to be true.

The Rise of Skywalker has earned the most dubious distinction in pop culture history. It is the most entertainingly brazen act of contempt, incompetence and indifference ever committed by a major entertainment company. When even the establishment media shills are openly conceding that JJ Abrams spends a good chunk of the film walking back Rian Johnson’s choices, you know there is no way this film can avoid being an epic calamity. And yet, somehow, against all the odds, that’s exactly what he did. Indeed, the Dark Side is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be… unnatural.

It feels redundant to point out its myriad flaws because the entire trilogy has been mismanaged from the start, and as expected, The Rise of Skywalker is loaded with them. It is filled with major abuses, missed opportunities, and earth shattering WTFs. However, to be perfectly fair, it has some honest successes. So let’s take a look at the Force miracles and missteps JJ Abrams has performed for this would-be epic finale to the Skywalker saga.

Rise of the Retcon

How the fuck is Palpatine even in this film? Seriously. The motherfucker gets thrown down a shaft and then survives the explosion of the Death Star? Really? Look, I can buy into the fact that Sith are never fully vanquished, but this was simultaneously the most blatant appeal to nostalgia and act of desperation ever committed. After Rian Johnson completely derailed this trilogy, I understand why this was necessary, but it doesn’t absolve JJ Abrams either. Apparently, theres’ a Sith homeworld called Exogol with genetic engineers, giant ass statues and legions of Sith acolytes who sit around doing incantations while Palpatine is kept alive with a midichlorian enriched IV drip. Somehow, no one ever knew about this homeworld nor suspected that the Palpatine zombie ghost was pulling all the strings the whole time, but whatever man. The most galling thing about this entire device is that it absolutely nullifies the triumphs of the original characters. Luke, Leia and Han put everything on the line to defeat Palpatine the first time, but HAHA IT’S ALL A RUSE YOU DUMB FANBOYS! GEORGE LUCAS WAS JUST TROLLING AND YOU NEEDED KATHLEEN KENNEDY AND JJ ABRAMS TO LIFT THE VEIL! I guess it’s something JJ Abrams pulled out of that mystery box he likes to talk about.

The retconning of Palpatine also necessitated the inclusion of the films two MacGuffins: the Sith dagger and the Wayfinder GPS system. Again, how the Wayfinder was intact after the destruction of the Endor Death Star absolutely beggars belief. But whatever man. Mystery box or something.

What? How? Why?

Why did it take three films for Kylo Ren to actually seem fearsome and imposing?

Why would he fear the re-emergence of Palpatine? Wouldn’t he be enthusiastic about the return of the most legendary Sith?

Why didn’t Kylo Ren just start blasting the shit out of Rey while he was in the TIE fighter? How did he survive that crash landing?

How the fuck did Palpatine build that fleet of Star Destroyers without conscripting or employing the services of several worlds and interplanetary defense contractors? Or anyone disccovering it?

Why didn’t General Pryde just tilt the Star Destoyer to the side and force the Riders of Endor to just fall off?

If Finn and Jannah broke the psychological conditioning of the First Order, why treat all stormtroopers as murderous goons? Doesn’t this make every stormtrooper a potential new ally?

Why weren’t the Knights of Ren introduced at the beginning of the trilogy so we could actually appreciate Ben Solo’s victory? Why were they presented as super badasses but ultimately killed and wasted like Phasma and Snoke?

How is Luke’s X-Wing still functional after being at the bottom of the ocean after all those years?

Why would you hire Keri Russell and keep her in a helmet for the entire film?

Why would Hux be a double agent for the Resistance just to spite Kylo Ren? Couldn’t he find another way to undermine him that didn’t involve exposing the First Order to their mortal enemies?

Whatever.

Suck on it, Rian Johnson

Thankfully, JJ Abrams did try to walk back some of Rian Johnson’s most egregious errors. While The Last Jedi did irreparable damage to the legacy of Luke Skywalker, JJ Abrams did his best to redeem him. Furthermore, the role of the annoying and pointless PETA activist, Rose Tico, was blessedly diminished. Her affection for Finn was set up to be a meaningful romantic connection, but that thread was jettisoned too. Given the ad hoc nature of the whole thing, it’s par for the course.

Best Jedi EVAR!

Fantasy and sci-fi properties which feature characters with fantastical powers only work when you have rules that govern the acquisition and usage of the powers. The way the Force was introduced in the OT was very effective because it was gradual. Most importantly, it carried dramatic weight because the ability to utilize its power was presented as something that required training and discipline regardless of whether you were on the Dark or Light side. Each film presented new aspects to the Force, but it worked because there was a sense of restraint. All of that restraint has been abandoned in The Rise of Skywalker.

It’s a problem that has plagued Rey since The Force Awakens, and The Rise of Skywalker only doubles down. Rey has been a Mary Sue throughout the trilogy and this film basically made her a Force Jesus. She can do a Force pull on entire ships. She can do Force Skyping and she can transport matter though the Force. She can summon Force lightning. And now, she can do Force healing! Hallelujah!

I was never afraid for Rey. There was never a moment that I was concerned for her welfare. Daisy Ridley does her best with what she’s been given, but the entire character is a giant panderfest. She’s a humorless and wooden caricature of female power. Characters are only interesting if they have real deficits, weaknesses and failures and her yearning to know her past isn’t enough to make her a compelling hero.

ReyLo

I actually didn’t mind the ReyLo moments and I think the whole thing should have been treated as a proper star crossed romance from the start. As in they actually fall in love with one another. The scene on the Endor Death Star wreckage was Rey’s most vulnerable moment and I actually kind of liked her for the first time. What people like Kathleen Kennedy, JJ Abrams and Rian Johnson are too ideologically possessed to recognize is that despite all of Leia’s tough chick qualities, she was also a bit of a raging cunt. This is why Han Solo’s wisecracks were funny. He diffused her imperious bitchiness and he made her more vulnerable by allowing her to be feminine. Feminists love to bitch about the Leia’s metal slave bikini, but that was something that added to her overall appeal. The Disney Lucasfilm cabal has gone so far out of their way to imbue Rey with every conceivable expertise and power that they’ve destroyed whatever natural female charisma she could have had. This is what made the final resolution so unsatisfying given the film’s emphasis on the necessity of friends and meaningful bonds.

The Rise of Skywalker?

This film is called The Rise of Skywalker and yet not a single member of the Skywalker clan is even alive. Rey can just appropriate the name cuz identity is a social construct or something. If Rey is the future of the Jedi, wouldn’t it make sense for her and Ben to raise a family and rebuild the Jedi order now that the Sith have been permanently vanquished and the Republic now bear the burden of governing? Nah! We’re too #WOKE for such sentimentality. A woman don’t need no man, amirite?

We’re supposed to believe that the victory over the First Order and the Sith is complete this time, and the restoration of the Republic will bring about another golden age of peace and security. I guess.

While JJ Abrams did pull off a miraculous feat, everything about this trilogy was so haphazard and random that it’s hard to care. The film is too rushed. The characters spend too much time yelling at each other. The jokes rarely land. The retcons and MacGuffins are dumb.

Yet somehow, I kind of did care. Just a little. The moment between Ben and Han was kind of sweet and heroic. It was nice to see Luke treated with a little respect. The climax felt like he was trying to outdo Avengers: Endgame and LOTR, but I found it somewhat rousing.

It’s not the best possible ending to the Skywalker saga, but I suppose it’s the one we deserve in 2020. Leave it to the Disney Corporation to hand the legacy of the Jedi to a Palpatine and sell it as the resolution to the Skywalker saga.

Lucasfilm after Kathleen Kennedy: Our Only Hope?

Now that The Rise of Skywalker is out and a confirmed turd, what will become of Star Wars? Can Lucasfilm right the ship after Kathleen Kennedy and coterie of pop culture arsonists have immolated the lore? Can Star Wars be salvaged? Can Star Wars ever matter again?

Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future.

God willing, the rumors are true that Kathleen Kennedy’s ignominious tenure as head of Lucasfilm is coming to an end. Hopefully, we’ll look back on her stewardship as a mercifully brief, but painfully depraved act of vandalism on a beloved pop culture franchise. Maybe Star Wars won’t recover from her reign of terror, but we can always hope for the best and imagine the possibilities.

In a normal world, the failure of the sequel trilogy should prompt an earnest reappraisal of the relevance of the entire Star Wars franchise in the 21st century. At its core, Star Wars celebrates the revolutionary ethos; the scrappy underdogs taking on the mechanistic totalitarian behemoth. In 1977, this mixture of pulp sci-fi, Jungian archetypes, and old school Hollywood swashbuckling felt fresh and innovative. You could even make the case that it had reactionary overtones since the final celebration of A New Hope heralded the restoration of a monarchical aristocracy. Even if Princess Leia ultimately submitted herself to the interplanetary democratic bureaucracy, she was still royalty. Even JJ Abrams affirmed this fact in one of Lor San Tekka’s throwaway lines.

The sequel trilogy tried to present itself as a fresh update by putting a more multicultural, intersectional veneer on Star Wars, but the underlying formula remained the same. Embattled democratic idealists fighting an infinitely resourced technocratic military dictatorship. But what’s so rebellious about pandering to feminists, LGBTQ ideologues, and vegans or giving lip service to other hollow progressive pieties? Nothing.

Is this pop space opera formula even relevant anymore if you’re looking to revive Star Wars for a new generation?

It could be.

If the Disney Corporation had any real courage or was really interested making Star Wars relevant while repurposing the basic formula, they would have to completely realign the struggle between the Rebellion and the Empire. What gets easily forgotten is that the Rebels simply want to reclaim the seat of power of the interplanetary democratic imperium. They’re not trying to dismantle the Galactic Senate. Their ambitions are no different than the Empire in terms of acquiring power. You’re left to assume that they’ll just be more humane cuz womyn and multiculturalism and shit.

A more courageous 21st century Star Wars would focus on the #Brexiteers of the New Republic; planets who are sick of a bloated and decadent bureaucracy of indifferent elites on Coruscant. It would focus on societies who don’t want the crushing conformity and ineptitude of a multiplanetary super state. Since Disney is a propaganda arm of the globalist power structure, they’ll never do that. If anything, they’ll continue to offer up cartoonish strawmen of secessionists and Nazis as the sole embodiments of pure evil.

Should Disney just break the universe down into its constituent parts and focus on small scale projects like The Mandalorian?

Maybe. The Mandalorian seems to be drawing enthusiastic praise from the fans. Perhaps Star Wars makes more sense as a crime/Western or as a gritty remix of The Dirty Dozen a la Rogue One. It invites questions about whether or not these reinventions can even be called Star Wars, but people just want something that’s good even if it bears no resemblance to the OT. If Lucasfilm can just write a decent story and create memorable characters, the fans would be lining up to hand over their cash.

What’s obvious to anyone who isn’t already ideologically aligned with the Disney Corporation is that they are the Empire. Does anyone really believe that the military-industrial corporate powers behind a multibillion dollar global conglomerate like the Disney Corporation represent any kind of real world revolutionary underdog? Mass produced revolutionary chic is the ethos and the product of the global corporate democratic elite. #Rebellion is the establishment. Subsequently, they’re ideologically cornered. The safe bet is that we’ll continue to watch all their storytelling choices get funneled into this narrow cul de sac. Any other narrative choices are either too risky or just too far off the ideological reservation for the Disney Corporation.

Despite the romantic lip service to democracy, the Star Wars franchise is actually a subtle indictment of democracy. The prequel series traces the decline of the Old Republic while the subsequent chapters portray two generations of revolution. Not exactly a glowing endorsement of democracy. The series constantly glorifies rebellion as the highest virtue, but portrays the ability to govern and lead as a recipe for dictatorship. The Empire are clearly more accomplished at marshalling resources and maintaining order, but the means by which they achieve it is either through violence, fear, brainwashing or overwhelming military might.

A more honest and mature Star Wars would portray pro-Empire worlds who were beneficiaries of the military-industrial contracts and largesse. To amass that much military might purely through coercion absolutely strains credibility. Comfort, leisure, and entertainment coupled with order, safety and stability are far more effective means of population control than guns, prisons and superweapons ever will be. The perennial portrait of murderous Imperial monsters who just want to annihilate every world in the galaxy just doesn’t add up. They need resources, labor, and a tax base. They won’t have anything to govern if they just vaporize every planet in the imperium. It’s not exactly the mythic dichotomy portrayed in the franchise, but it would be a fresh update.

A more honest and mature Star Wars would also portray the Rebels for what they likely really are in the real world: controlled opposition; a subversive element which provides a pretext for consolidating more power. The Rebels would either be demagogues marshalling public sentiment, terror cells, or fifth column elements attempting to destabilize planets unsympathetic to the Empire. No one in the New Republic really wants a Holdo leading military fleets. In contrast to their real world progressive counterparts, the Rebels clearly do not repudiate firearm ownership, opportunistically glorify military leadership or embrace phony postures of pacifism.

I never thought I’d see the day when the gatekeepers of a major pop culture franchise would use it to telegraph their utter hatred for the mythology and the fans the way Kathleen Kennedy has over this film cycle. As someone who always regarded the very idea of being paid generous sums of cash to tell stories and be creative as the greatest achievement, this strikes me as the height of decadence and entitlement.

I certainly think Star Wars could matter in the 21st century, but I don’t blame anyone for writing it off as a dead mythology at this point. Because of the impact it made on me while I was growing up, it’s hard for me to completely reject it. However, that doesn’t mean I’m signing up for Disney+ just so I can watch The Mandalorian either. Because George Lucas lit my soul on fire back in 1977, part of me will continue to hold out a new hope that someone at Lucasfilm will simply love Star Wars and its fans. I’d like to think there’s room for a big hearted pop culture mythology that actually respects its fans and source material. Despite being the property of the most entitled and compromised people on the planet, I believe Star Wars could reclaim that position again. Help us, Kevin Feige. You’re our only hope.

CS Lewis: The Abolition of Man

The Abolition of Man is absolutely essential because it gets to the core of what I feel is the only debate worth having at this stage of history. Lewis is talking about First Principles in the context of classical philosophy. Every claim comes prepackaged with its own ethical, epistemological and metaphysical presuppositions.

Despite his own Christian beliefs, he’s taking an ecumenical approach to time honored wisdom. If you are going to strip away all traditional notions of duty, honor, virtue in favor of a more “natural” approach to Man, then you consign Man’s soul to the meat grinder of the scientific data mill. Thus making subsequent generations slaves to the scientific class who are going to condition the masses to accept whatever definition of “good” is going to be most expedient to the larger goal of consolidating power within the scientific priesthood.

Clown World Woke Revisionism: John Legend and Kelly Clarkson play Donnie and Marie for Cancel Culture

Back in the day, all the cool kids were unanimous in their opposition to puritanical scolds of the time, the PMRC. For those who didn’t live through it or simply don’t recall, the Parents Music Resource Center was a committee comprised predominantly of the wives of Washington elites who were Deeply Troubled by the lack of content warnings on major recordings. In short, they wanted a warning label on pop and rock records which contained racy lyrical content so they could theoretically police their kids’ purchases. Needless to say, the PMRC created a shitstorm of controversy, and the ensuing schism predictably arrayed public sentiment into two camps. The forces of secular liberal rock n’ roll freedom were set against the forces of stodgy, repressive secular conservatism. The PMRC’s crowning achievement was a televised Senate hearing in 1985 which ultimately ushered in the era of the Parental Advisory sticker warning on albums.

Despite the industry concession, the hearing produced three of the most memorable and pugilistic anti-censorship speeches ever delivered by modern musicians. Not the least of which was Frank Zappa’s combative diatribe. Who didn’t relish hearing Frank Zappa dish out such well deserved scorn and contempt on this self-appointed group of busybodies?

The PMRC got their warning sticker, but the entire crusade seemed like a pyrrhic victory. All it did was incentivize rockers to make records that would earn them the sticker. The Parental Advisory became a new badge of honor for the edgy rocker or rapper. What kid didn’t want to buy the album with the Parental Advisory warning? Musicians boasted about its instant appeal. At the end of the day, the PMRC seemed like an orchestrated stunt which ultimately emboldened and sanctified the rebellious rocker who gleefully held his middle finger aloft in permanent defiance of all would-be establishment moral authority. “Fuck off, prudes” was rock n’ roll’s permanent answer to any pleas for restraint from morality cops.

However, I believe the PMRC was a harbinger of a far more pernicious trend that has achieved its ultimate and inevitable conclusion in what has now been deemed Cancel Culture. The abiding lesson that the social engineer class likely recognized (planned?) from this exercise is that top down enforcement of morality doesn’t work. Subsequently, the various gatekeepers of cultural consensus who inhabit the academic, media and entertainment spheres have cleverly smuggled a tightly knit package of woke pieties into the public consciousness through a multigenerational indoctrination campaign that is now reaping its harvest. If you can succeed at encapsulating vast social evils into omnipresent yet infinitely subjective terms like “patriarchy”, “toxic masculinity” or “rape culture”, people won’t just accept censorship. They’ll actively police content for signs of transgression and demand it. It’s the type of Pavlovian style psychological conditioning that Aldous Huxley portrayed in vivid detail in Brave New World.

All of which brings me to John Legend and Kelly Clarkson’s abominable turd of a remake of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”. To anyone who’s attuned to methods of the Missionaries of Wokegnosis, this is a sad inevitability. Any time you see a steady drip of woke thinkpieces in the media or gender studies papers bitching about something being “problematic” on one or more grounds of woke sin, you can predict with absolute and ironclad certainty that this particular piece of pop culture has been slated for demolition.

The ways that this remake is a pointless, hypocritical and destructive affront to a wonderful song are manifold, but the most egregious of which is the sanctimonious aura of moral authority that is implied by its very existence. The entire realm of rock and pop has maintained a posture of unrepentant hedonism and decadence since Elvis gyrated his hips on Ed Sullivan. “Fuck off, prudes” and “Don’t be rapey, you misogynistic bigot” are mutually exclusive positions. You can’t have it both ways, assholes.

Are they taking aim at Cardi b’s “Stripper Hoe” or Ariana Grande’s “Side to Side”? Of course not. Instead, they create a shitty revision of a beloved song just to virtue signal and score a few cheap #MeToo points from blue checkmarks on Twitter. Why? Because it’s easy. They can point the finger at The Past and tear down the achievements of others for failing to pass the fake moral purity test of the hashtag warriors.

The worldview which gave rise to this posture of pious censoriousness is straight out of the Herbert Marcuse School of Repressive Intolerance. It thrives on a presumption of an irreconcilable Left/Right dialectic in which all forms of convention or tradition which can be even loosely attributed to the Judeo-Christian worldview are forms of false consciousness which must be summarily torn down and remade in a progressive mold. Sadly, this is why the Missionaries of Wokegnosis cannot actually create anything of lasting value let alone anything people really want to consume. All they can do is infiltrate the legacy of works created by others and tear them down by imposing their idiotic and misguided ideology. These people simply cannot create original works that stand on their own merits. They can only desecrate the works of minds far superior to their own.

In retrospect, the PMRC seemed far more honorable than the woke revisionists of today because at least they were reasonably consistent about which songs they believed contained morally questionable or reprehensible content.

The same cannot be said about the phony #WOKE posturing of John Legend and Kelly Clarkson in their pointless and wretched revision of “Baby It’s Cold Outside”. In an utterly shameless grab for virtue points from their online echo chamber, the song is nothing but a cavalcade of the same dumb clich├ęs and platitudes that already permeate the culture. It’s bad enough that a company which manufactures shaving products for men has to push this toxic gruel into the public square, but it’s even worse that the simple pleasures that everyone could once enjoy during Christmas have to get a woke makeover.

This is ultimately what makes John Legend and Kelly Clarkson’s transformation into the Donnie and Marie of Cancel Culture just another contemptible manifestation of America’s descent into Clown World. The most decadent and compromised people on earth are dispensing moral lectures by ruining Christmas songs. Men and women can’t be flirtatious and fall in love anymore. Courtship and chivalry don’t exist. Subsequently, the ultimate virtue is for the man to treat women like radioactive material while encouraging her to #shoutyourabortion and be a “self-partnered” wine aunt. The sheer cynicism and hubris is what makes this truly detestable. It is designed to be the turd in the Christmas punchbowl. They knew it would spark a backlash and they’ll respond with some other predictably idiotic cliche about how they’re “just trying to start a conversation” or “raise awareness”. We’re not buying it, assholes. Do us all a favor and cancel your shitty and unnecessary remake.

Apocalypse Now Redux (1979)

When Apocalypse Now was released, it was heralded as a scathing indictment of the amorality of the Vietnam War. The war that divided America and defined an entire generation of alleged revolutionaries had finally been seen through the unflinching gaze of one of cinema’s greatest artists. In the wake of the release of Apocalypse Now: The Final Cut, the cinematic auteur himself has come clean and said that he doesn’t see it as an antiwar film. This is precisely the feeling with which I was left upon reviewing the film. It reveals the hot war in Vietnam as the merely the overt flipside to the domestic psychological degradation and debasement of the American soul being perpetrated through the media and the culture. If anything, Apocalypse Now reveals the savagery, futility and moral vacuum of modern warfare as its own form of psychological propaganda. The decadence and hedonism that had been unleashed in the counterculture were the exact same tools that were used to keep the ground forces numb to their own pain, loneliness and guilt. Sex, drugs and rock and roll weren’t the signifiers of rebellion that gatekeepers of culture would lead us to believe. The narcotic nihilism of The Doors’ “The End” playing against the symphony of destruction in the film’s opening isn’t really a lament. It’s a psychedelic sedative that’s meant to inoculate you to the juggernaut of inhumanity to which you are about to be subjected. These were the new chains of enslavement deployed by social engineers who had built their careers perfecting the means by which to erode the foundations of a healthy society. The combat was simply the laboratory in which the ideas were tested and the means by which the process was hastened.

Apocalypse Now makes this abundantly clear throughout the film in several different ways. The most obvious of which is the scene that Coppola himself concedes is a glorification of aerial combat. Lt. Colonel Kilgore revels in the fact that the Vietnamese are terrified by the sound of Wagner blaring over the helicopter squadron’s loudspeakers as they mercilessly slaughter the terrified civilians. The combination of aural psyops and aerial bombardment feels less like a rebuke and more like a celebration of American military dominance. Hell, you can even find articles discussing the possibility of video game adaptations. The practice of musical psyops has been extended into the era of Middle Eastern warfare with the only significant difference being the switch to heavy metal instead of 19th century operatic pagan mysticism. Same idea, different expressions.

The role of the media in advancing the domestic propaganda effort receives emphasis as well. When Willard arrives at the beachhead where Kilgore’s division is stationed, he is immediately met by a television crew directed by Coppola himself. In a meta moment, he instructs Willard to look like he’s engaged in combat. It’s a brief but highly effective scene because Coppola is revealing that the footage that would eventually be culled by Ken Burns and repackaged as hard hitting documentary was arguably just as stage managed as the fictitious effort you are viewing.

Despite the prevalence of Domino Effect narratives promulgated by the political class and official histories, Coppola goes one better by suggesting that the Viet Cong were yet another enemy created by the US government in a century that would be defined by wars fought for the express purpose of taking down manufactured boogeymen in service of the expansion of the Pax Americana. When Willard visits with the French colonists, he is given a lecture on American proxy warfare by Gaston de Marais.

Gaston de Marais: You Americans. In 1945, yeah, after the Japanese war, your president Roosevelt didn’t want the French people to stay in Indochina. So, you Americans implant the Vietnam.

Willard: [to Hubert] What’s he mean?

Hubert: Yeah, that’s true. The Vietcong were invented by the Americans, sir.

Willard: The Americans?

Gaston de Marais: And now you take the French place. And the Vietnam fight you. And what can you do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Later in the film, Kurtz’s sardonic reading of a Time magazine article suggests the naked and sanitized deception and the media were routinely peddling. The mention of Sir Robert Thompson’s affiliation with the neocons of the RAND Corporation simultaneously hints at the technocratic administration of the war effort while foreshadowing the eventual controlled release of the Pentagon Papers. As films like Wag the Dog and Network have so brilliantly illustrated, Hollywood has been completely forthright about the media’s rank mendacity and captured allegiance on numerous occasions. You need people as skillful as Steven Spielberg who can churn out agitprop like The Post to make the shills in the media seem heroic. This is ultimately what I believe Coppola was saying with Dennis Hopper’s drug addled photojournalist. Despite Kurtz’s murderous megalomania, Hopper remained enthralled by his poetic mystique. Hardly the behavior of an allegedly objective chronicler of America’s long term commitment in Vietnam.

Apocalypse Now offers what can now be seen as a fleeting moment in the ongoing politicization of sex. Once upon a time, liberals were actually promoting sexual liberation. They still do, but it’s been overshadowed by a lot of #MeToo moral grandstanding. Libidinous displays of female sexuality were simultaneously hailed as evidence of the liberated modern woman as well as a way to stick it to the conservative prudes. Coppola brings this to the forefront by portraying what amounts to a DOD sponsored strip show featuring Playboy playmates. Not only does it show how liberalism actively promotes sexual degeneracy, but it reveals Playboy as one of many forms of legal prostitution embedded within the entertainment complex.

If this seems like it’s a world away from the current cultural moment, it’s because liberals are a clever bunch. They carefully tend to the maintenance of both sides of the dialectic by deploying assets who can push the opposing perspective. They’ll happily peddle a former stripper like Cardi b in the mainstream while the entire feminist media complex will breathlessly extol the bravery of the #MeToo “movement”. Don’t believe me? Just ask feminist extraordinaire Gloria Steinem about her stint as a CIA asset and Playboy bunny.

Much like The Godfather, Apocalypse Now is a study in the real dynamics of American power. In one of many of Willard’s voice overs, he puzzles over the seemingly arbitrary decision to take Kurtz out. Kurtz was being groomed to take his place in the highest echelons of the American power structure. Because he had made the decision to step out of line and build his own cult of personality, he became a liability. His decorated status also made it necessary to make Kurtz’s retirement a black operation. It couldn’t be conducted through official channels because it would have been bad PR. It’s not about upholding any sacred honor or fixed morality. It’s about the preservation of the power structure at any cost.

Coppola also strongly suggests the link between the occult and the deep state. Kurtz had taken his considerable military training and transformed himself into a cult leader. I also believe that the appearances of Sir James George Frazer’s Golden Bough and Willard’s discovery of a newspaper article about Charles Manson were not accidents. Kurtz ended up being sacrificed at the altar of the death cult that bred him. His only transgression was carrying out his training without the sanction of his superiors.

In the paganistic final scene, Willard is immediately recognized as the new cult leader simply by virtue of slaughtering Kurtz. Three years after the release of Apocalypse Now, screenwriter John Milius directed a little sword and sorcery film called Conan the Barbarian starring a bodybuilder named Arnold Schwarzenegger. In the film, he seeks vengeance against a cult leader who murdered his family. The final scene of Conan is deeply reminiscent of the conclusion of Apocalypse Now. The exact same premise of the gritty Vietnam War drama is effortlessly transferred over to the pulp fantasy epic. Hollywood doesn’t have a lot of tricks up its sleeve. If they’re recycling the same idea in two major motion pictures, you can bet your bottom dollar it’s a message they’re deeply invested in promoting.

The Dead Don’t Die (2019)

I suppose I have to give Jim Jarmusch some credit. I watched another one of his films, and I was so disarmed by its laconic detachment and deadpan humor, I almost forgot that it masked his utter hatred for middle America. Almost. Admittedly, it’s a skill every Hollywood filmmaker needs to master, but like Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson, Jarmusch’s skill is above average. Not perfect mind you, but certainly above average. Almost no one knows how to write real characters or craft real drama in a screenplay anymore. Subsequently, any director who can imitate the gestures of actual filmmakers gets considered an auteur and attracts a loyal following amongst Hollywood’s A-listers. His films have a distinct directorial POV, but he’s also one of those guys who has made the terms “indie” and “quirky” into pejoratives. That’s Jarmusch in a nutshell.

The Dead Don’t Die is a quintessentially postmodern zombie film. Similar to Tarantino, the whole thing is simply layers of meta-references to other films and pieces of pop culture which ultimately reveal a hollow core of contempt. Adam Driver’s Officer Ronnie Peterson foreshadows the ending by repeating the refrain “This is definitely going to end badly”. With this wink and nod, Jarmusch is signaling that there are no dramatic stakes whatsoever. He even wrangles a cheap laugh by using it as a device for breaking the fourth wall and making some self-congratulatory inside jokes. It’s the Waiting for Godot of zombie films. Whatever pleasure you derive from the film rests on your enjoyment of the deadpan banter between the characters.

The film is essentially a giant pisstake on small town Middle America. With the Cohen brothers, you at least get a kernel of residual affection. No such luck with Jarmusch. To him, these people are just contemptible hicks and hayseeds who deserve the zombie apocalypse that’s coming. Naturally, he engages in some standard Hollywood virtue signaling. The minority characters are all plucky, intelligent, and interesting. The white characters are slow witted, unsophisticated, and charmless. Steve Buscemi is bestowed with the dubious honor of perpetuating Hollywood’s deathless strawman of the provincial, racist MAGA dirtbag. He stoops to a Sarah Silverman-esque depth of hatred by giving him a hat which reads “Make America White Again” and naming his dog Rumsfeld. OMG! IT’S A REFERENCE TO DONALD RUMSFELD. AND IT’S HIS DOG! ISN’T THAT FUCKING HILARIOUS YOU GUYS! Fuck you, Jarmusch. It’s bad enough that no one in Hollywood knows or cares about anyone in middle America, but the fact that this lazy, royalist condescension is so commonplace is just beyond the pale.

On the positive side, the film can be read as subtle nod to the role of geoengineering’s effect on climate change. The zombie apocalypse is triggered by something called “polar fracking”. In the film, it messes with earth’s rotation. What it probably refers to is some kind of tech that manipulates the electromagnetic spectrum since it messes with everyone’s devices. Jarmusch undoubtedly wants it to be seen as comeuppance for middle America’s indifference to or skepticism of The Climate Crisis. Like the globalist elites they represent, if you just get past the smoke and mirrors, Hollywood is always tipping its hand.

I believe the title of the film reveals the establishment’s exasperation with middle America. After years and years of global trade polcy which has decimated rural America, a flood of opoids into the communities, agribusiness consolidation and a neverending onslaught of propaganda which consistently casts flyover country in the most negative light possible, the global elites cannot stand that middle America will not just roll over and capitulate to their progressive overlords. To them, they’re already dead. And yet, they won’t die. So let’s pile on one more insult by just portraying them as zombies that need to be culled by some righteous Malthusians who are just being responsible stewards of Mother Earth.

Bonus points for Chloe Sevigny giving one of the most honest portraits of a female cop since Tyne Daly in The Enforcer. But that’s all you get, Jarmusch.

Downton Abbey (2019)

On the surface, the deep enthusiasm for Downton Abbey seems inexplicable. In a cinematic year that has seen Captain Marvel, John Wick 3 and It: Chapter Two top the box office charts, a costume drama built around British aristocrats has inspired a level of devotion that should make even the Kathleen Kennedys of the world a little jealous. However, if you pause to think about it for a moment, it is perfectly sensible. When confronted by a world of anger, division and unrelenting gloom, the pageantry, dignity and simplicity of life at Downton is a welcome respite.

Indeed, Downton Abbey can be read as a reactionary celebration of an aristocratic social order, but I think that analysis sidesteps the show’s and the film’s overt yet subtle cheerleading for the rising tide of modernity. What I contend Julian Fellowes has achieved is a precarious yet successful tightrope walk which largely achieves its twin objectives of casting the twilight of the old world aristocracy in a favorable light while simultaneously heralding the advent of the new liberal world order.

This premise of the new film is astonishingly simple. The King and Queen of England are coming to Downton and the downstairs staff are getting sidelined by the Buckingham Palace traveling crew. The fact that Fellowes was able to easily extract two hours of rich entertainment from such a seemingly paltry storyline should be an object lesson in storytelling for at least 98% of contemporary Hollywood. Stated simply, Downton Abbey represents a world in which things like meaning, beauty, virtue, order, family, authority and faith carried actual weight. When these things matter, you can write stories that actually reach people’s emotions.

The characters of Downton Abbey are so lovingly drawn and the trials they endured through the series created such a firm bedrock that Fellowes didn’t need anything more from which to build a feature film. When Mary petitions Carson to return to Downton to manage the staff, your heart leaps because you already know the depth of his devotion to Mary, the Crawleys and the household. That’s just one scene. When the dramatic contours are that well sketched out, the only thing that needs to be done is to roll the camera.

It feels churlish to nitpick Downton Abbey, but I have some gripes. The main drama of the film is centered around a minor act of sedition mounted by the Downton staff. Because they’re treated so poorly by the Buckingham Palace team, they engineer a soft coup so they can serve the King and Queen themselves. After all, they’re patriots who want to show their devotion to the English monarchy as well as their provincial pride in being the staff who serve Downton Abbey. Subsequently, they manufacture an emergency in order to divert the Buckingham Palace team back to London. In essence, they mount a revolution which will enable the Downton staff to serve dinner to the King and Queen. Needless to say, we’re not talking about a Robespierre style Reign of Terror, but it feels like Fellowes had to genuflect to the orthodoxy of the revolutionary ethos. The show worked because you felt the Crawleys were inching towards modernity as opposed to diving headlong into the pool. Maybe Anna Bates had been catching up on Jean-Jacques Rousseau at that point, but Carson’s complicity in this gambit almost breaks his entire character arc.

Andy Parker’s sabotage of the water boiler is equally dubious. After being in a froth of jealousy over what he thought was Daisy’s affection for the local plumber, he breaks the mechanism all over again just to discharge his feelings. Instead of Daisy just saying “Bruh, why didn’t you just talk to me?”, she praises him for his willingness to commit an act of pointless vandalism. Men aren’t always adept at handling jealousy, but come on, Julian. This felt like a sop to Antifa garbage can stormtroopers.

I believe Downton Abbey makes the most sense as a story which serves as a proxy for how all the old world British aristocrats adapted to the democratic era. This is especially evident in Tom Branson’s entire growth arc. Tom begins as a fiery socialist revolutionary who wants economic and political equality, but eventually makes peace with the conservative values of his in-laws. In the film, Tom enjoys a nice moment of heroism which confirms his loyalty to the monarchy, but his republican sympathies are also upheld as heroic in another side story involving the Princess Mary. I believe that Tom finding peace among the aristocracy is representative of what socialism truly is: the orthodoxy of the elites masquerading as an ideology that lifts up the working classes. It’s also suggested in Edith’s run as a pro-suffrage publisher and Lord Talbot’s high end car dealership. Whether it was in the arts, publishing, academia, sports or entertainment, the socialist aristocracy simply found new ways of keeping the proles loyal to the democratic ethos. Right, Julian?

As if we didn’t need another reminder of how far down into the depths of Clown World we’ve descended, the idea of a virtuous old world aristocracy is regarded as a fanciful fiction in 2019. Albeit one that fills a gaping void in a world seemingly bereft of any larger purpose beyond consumption and mindless obedience to the orthodoxy of “progress”. When your de facto aristocrats are the Kardashians, a couple of hours fantasizing about having the Crawleys in their place is pretty damn appealing.

For many years, I couldn’t stomach a Victorian or Gilded Age drama because it required me to adopt a worldview that modernity had drummed out of my consciousness. Monarchy was just an antiquated relic that had been rightfully crushed by the enlightened dawn of Democracy. Needless to say, the fractious state of the democratic global imperium has forced me to reevaluate this assumption. It’s not a call to the return of monarchical social order that some in the media might lead you to believe, but its conservative bona fides are such a welcome relief from the seemingly neverending onslaught of wokeisms coming from Hollywood. Men and women fall in love and have children. Women look feminine and beautiful. The men are masculine and not portrayed as hapless and incompetent dolts. It feels weird to highlight these features of Downton Abbey as selling points, but it shows you how badly democratic modernity and its social engineers in Hollywood have downgraded the institutions that are upheld in the film and series. Hollywood is in such a hurry to normalize the idea that a man can fall in love with an AI that it forgets that a story which portrays family stability and continuity is exactly the kind of thing that most people want to see affirmed.

When you have a social order that is built around a hereditary monarchy, the family is sanctified as the building block of society. Society becomes oriented around the preservation of the social order. Art and architecture must also be trained towards the goal of creating timeless beauty so that generations to come will look upon their cultural inheritance with pride and a sense of duty. These notions are completely foreign to anyone who has grown up accepting the assumptions of post-Enlightenment liberalism as the pinnacle of human history. I believe this is why the Burkean model of conservatism has largely failed. Democratic capitalism was designed to uproot this old social order.

As citizens of the increasingly global democratic imperium, we’re supposed to scoff at the small minded and provincial outlook of the world portrayed in Downton Abbey. Sure, you can swoon over the beautiful costumes and elegance of Downton, but come on now. They couldn’t even handle people who are GAY! How backwards were these people, amirite?! Having to bow to a monarch is a indignity no one should have to endure, so thank goodness people have been liberated to shit in the streets without fear of reprisal from authorities. #PROGRESS.

Democracy didn’t abolish the monarchy. It simply obscured it and traded it in for a more crass and debauched version. The Rockefellers and Vanderbilts just got into media and philanthropy and you don’t even think twice about them because they’re funding things like NPR and the MOMA. Surely, they’re just as virtuous as the Crawleys, right? RIGHT?

I’m sure there were British nobles who were as likable and good hearted as the Crawleys. At the same time, when Hollywood or the BBC is trying to place your sympathies with a certain group of people, chances are better than good that they’re trying to divert your attention away from people in that group who are doing things that are unsavory. Perhaps even degenerate. I’m pretty sure Julian Fellowes isn’t terribly interested in discussing Prince Andrew’s connections to Jeffrey Epstein or Jimmy Savile’s proximity to the monarchy. But that’s okay, Julian. All of us lowly proles will never stop praising you for giving us one more opportunity to enjoy Violet’s tart ripostes. Because honestly, it’s the best entertainment you can buy in 2019.

Ready Player One (2018)

When he’s at his best, Steven Spielberg’s filmmaking gifts are so impressive that you almost overlook the propaganda he smuggles into his movies. Even a blatant piece of agitprop like The Post still managed to sustain my interest. Ready Player One is not quite up to the level as his 80’s classics, but it’s a welcome return to his blockbuster sensibilities. Spielberg is calling upon a considerable reservoir of technical and cultural resources for Ready Player One because he’s trafficking a pretty dubious message in very appealing cinematic wrapper. Besides being positively overstuffed with pop culture meta references, the film is a glimpse into the digital slave state currently under construction. Spielberg needs to call on every dark power at his disposal because he is asking the viewer to sympathize with yet another multicultural collection of youthful rabble rousers who also happen to be brave revolutionaries fighting for the right live in a digital fantasyland. That’s right, folks. It’s not about smashing the oppressive control grid and restoring order and virtue. It’s about saving it so we can chill with our online homies in between cockroach burgers, DMT vape hits and energy drinks made from recycled sewage water.

The film contains so many different references to other films and properties, but I would argue that one of the primary templates is one of Spielberg’s own creations: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Instead of a quest for a literal Holy Grail, Tye Sheridan uses his virtual avatar, Parzival, to acquire a digital Grail in the form of three keys. The winner of the contest would gain control of the global virtual playground known as the Oasis. As the Hiram Abiff/Steve Jobs virtual temple builder, Mark Rylance’s James Halliday is the object of Wade Watts’ obsession. You see, folks. Halliday was just another misunderstood science nerd who had a hard time being in the real world. We should view his contribution to a society full of braindead, antisocial dopamine addled tech junkies as an admirable achievement.

In contrast to the corporate fascists at IOI Corporation, Wade’s obsession with Halliday is earnest! The goons at IOI don’t really give a shit about what made Atari’s Adventure so great. Ben Mendelsohn’s Nolan Sorrento doesn’t really play Robotron while chilling to Duran Duran. Wade gets it, man. Wade is the Charlie Bucket to Halliday’s Willy Wonka. The good hearted kid who rose above his broken upbringing and found real connections by playing the vidya.

The pop culture overload of Ready Player One is designed to be part of the appeal, but when Wade tries to bond with Artemis all he can do is regurgitate pop culture references. It shows you how pernicious it is because it feels both sad and contemptible. I enjoy pop culture just as much as anyone, but Ready Player One is essentially showing you that the synthetic reality of pop culture is the material of the cyberprison system that’s being constructed all around us. When Samantha/Artemis is captured, she is forced into a containment cube and electronically sealed into a VR helmet. Spielberg is telling you point blank that VR is the limitless utopia, but it’s also the means by which mental and neural enslavement is achieved. The thirst for being able have virtual sex in the Pandoran jungle will ultimately supersede any impulse to live in the real world. Because the real world just sucks, man!

Spielberg tries to have it both ways though. Thankfully, he does give you a rare and sweet romance between Wade and Samantha (heterosexuality?! GASP!), and you are led to believe he’s affirming life in the real world. But it’s a trick. Wade only shuts down the Oasis for two days out of the week.

Just as we witnessed in his seminal blockbusters, there is fairly overt Masonic and occult symbolism in Ready Player One. Isaac Weishaupt has identified the most prominent symbolism in the film, but I think there are two that warrant emphasis. The demonic image on Aech’s van can be read another signifier of the film’s Luciferian subtext. In this case, I propose that the meta reference is the key. The Face of the Great Green Devil contains a sphere of annihilation in Dungeons and Dragons lore. In other words, your character will be destroyed if you fall or climb in. I suggest that the entire Oasis is itself a giant sphere of annihilation. A digital Tomb of Horrors.

The real kicker is the entire reference to The Shining. In order to obtain one of the keys, the heroes enter a simulation of Kubrick’s Shining. The normies will read it as an homage, but I suggest that Jay Dyer’s analysis of the film is relevant here. In the original, we see the appearance of Jack Torrance’s image in a vintage photo at a party attended by elites. In Ready Player One, Torrance’s image is replaced with Halliday’s. Why is this significant? Assuming that Kubrick was revealing the occultist practices of the global elites, the inclusion of a tech mogul in Torrance’s place seems pretty consequential. Given that a connection between Bill Gates and Jeffrey Epstein has just been revealed in mainstream media outlets, it seems like confirmation.

The ending is meant to have the same triumphant feeling as Charlie Bucket’s acquisition of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but Halliday’s final line feels more cynical than sweet. We’re meant to see Wade as the clever and principled extension of Halliday, but Wade is really a lab experiment. He’s not congratulating him for his ingenuity. He’s thanking him for willingly submitting to his global social engineering experiment. Spielberg is counting on the same thing from you.

Huxley’s Brave New World: A Progressive Utopia

If one peruses the various lists of top works of dystopian sci-fi bouncing around the internet, a handful of titles appears pretty consistently. It should come as little surprise that Aldous Huxley’s seminal novel from 1932, Brave New World, appears at or near the top of many of these lists. Its vaunted position in the culture is well deserved for both its chilling prescience and its taut but vivid prose. However, there’s a gigantic irony that is lost in most of these lists. It’s really a peek into the utopia that progressives have been working toward. Yes, I said UTOPIA. Most progressives would lead you to believe that they and they alone are uniquely attuned to the dangers of an encroaching totalitarianism. It’s really a cartoonish “fascism” that’s been ingrained into the cultural dialogue thanks in large part to Frankfurt School works such as The Authoritarian Personality. Progressives will get far more outraged over a film that has insufficient ratio of gender and racial diversity then they will over a multi-trillion dollar half-baked outline of a wholesale reconstruction of the US economy. They’ll take the latter as an article of faith, but will decry the former as a crime against humanity. What Huxley is doing in this novel is telling you exactly the future progressives intend to implement. For anyone not blinkered by Trump Derangement Syndrome or Progressivism in general, Brave New World does read as a dystopia. Like his fellow Fabian socialist, George Orwell, Huxley isn’t attempting to warn the world of the dangers of a technocratic global world order. He’s simply attempting to prepare you for what he and his fellow plutocrats and oligarchs are planning.

The future Brave New World envisioned is already upon us in many ways. The book simply takes it to its fullest conclusion. All manners of genetic engineering, including eugenics and ectogenetic procreation, are the norm for all the “civilized” portions of society. Pavlovian conditioning, which includes hours of hypnopaedic sleep conditioning, has been perfected to produce a rigidly stratified class system. An elite caste of high IQ Alphas and Betas are tasked with management of the world state power centers while Deltas and Epsilons do the unpleasant drudgery. Obedience to the system is reinforced through mandatory consumption of a mood enhancing drug called soma. The manipulation of emotions is scientifically managed by propaganda engineers through immersive entertainment called “feelies”. High art and the very notion of objective beauty has been obliterated. In other words, it’s an extrapolation of what the Silicon Valley, Hollywood and deep state technocratic elite are currently doing. All vestiges of the nuclear family have been abolished. Children are forced to learn “erotic play” from an early age and are taught to treat sex as pure recreation. Women practice birth control by wearing Malthusian belts, and are expected to have many partners as a matter of course. As a result of the advances in gene therapy, no one ages. People are simply sent to death preparation centers where they receive a steady drip of television until they finally expire and are sent to the crematoriums.

The plot centers around an Alpha named Bernard Marx who has ventured out of the cities in order to experience life among the “savages”. He finds a woman who left the World State and bore a child as nature intended. She taught her son, John, to read through two books – a scientific manual and the complete works of Shakespeare. Despite this seemingly scant education, he is able to access and express worlds of emotion and meaning that have stamped out of existence amongst the “civilized” population of the World State.

1984 tends to be credited as the quintessential dystopian novel, but I’d argue that Brave New World is the template for all contemporary sci-fi and by extension, the New World Order itself. From the mass death rituals of Logan’s Run to the enforced eugenics of Gattaca to the technocratic pharmacological nightmare of THX 1138, the seeds are all found in Brave New World. Even the cheeseball hyper-PC future of Demolition Man is straight out of the Huxley template.

The only thing that’s really missing from Huxley’s vision is artificial intelligence. Simply add in the digital panopticon to help enforce ideological conformity and the progressive utopian template is more or less complete. There’s even a Burning Man-like unification ritual complete with drugs and electronic music. It’s everything progressives promote in one novel.

Patton (1970)

Patton is such a great film that you can simply enjoy it as pure cinema. All of the praise heaped on George C. Scott’s magisterial performance is entirely warranted and lives up to the legacy of its formidable subject in every way. Like every man who holds a position of power, he was complicated and difficult, and the film does an excellent job of giving an unvarnished portrait. However, I believe that at this stage of American history, we must also take a step back from its ostensible role as a vehicle for WWII propaganda and consider its deeper significance as both a sketch of the male warrior hero archetype and a representation of bygone military ideals.

Anyone who’s read my reviews here knows that I am a critic of current woke trends in cinema which are generally hostile towards every form of masculine authority, strength and virtue. I find these trends a decadent and destructive affront to civilization itself. What’s patently obvious in this obnoxious trend is that Hollywood is attempting to supplant the male warrior archetype with a female replacement. In the progressive worldview, gender is allegedly a social construct, but the heroic virtues that have historically been attributed to manhood can simply be transferred over to women if we just make enough of them superheroes in movies and comics. Or something. And men must subordinate and sublimate any pride or masculine tendencies in themselves in order to accommodate this cultural shift. Because Current Year, you dumbass misogynists.

What Patton does so masterfully is remind us that America wants and needs a warrior class and warrior heroes. People need models of valor and heroism. This isn’t a suggestion that these virtues cannot be found in other realms, but the soldier is the one who will take up arms and sacrifice himself to defend his people and his country. This also entails the idea that the warrior is defending ideals that are embodied and upheld in the nation state. Patton is unequivocally fighting for America as a sovereign nation as well as the institutions charged with their preservation for posterity. When Patton delivers his iconic speech, he speaks of the American thirst for victory as a universally shared virtue amongst his countrymen. The combat unit, like the nation it represents, is a team. Individualism is just a fanciful notion promulgated by effete journalists who are stroking the egos of their Starbucks socialist target demo.

One is left with the impression that he was not a democratic globalist nor was he especially enamored of America’s role as an ally in a multinational coalition. The very idea of fighting for your country is sneered at by anyone in the progressive establishment because it implies there are ideas, institutions, symbols, traditions, and yes, sovereign borders, that require both conservation and defense from invasion. Quite simply, it implies that the nation itself is a distinct entity, has a fixed metaphysical reality and isn’t just an arbitrary social construct. For Patton, America is a place with unique people, institutions, culture and history.

The Hollywood intelligentsia sidestep this idea by focusing almost exclusively on superhero and sci-fi properties which cast the warrior as a representative of a global or intergalactic order that has transcended the quaint notion of a sovereign nation state. For progressives, the subversive is the only heroic ideal because subversion is the only value that ultimately matters in that paradigm. The progressive order is a globalized collection of deracinated individuals who inhabit generic economic zones in which cultural distinction and history has been forcibly obliterated through multiculturalism. Patton feels so radical now because it is an artifact from a time when progressives in Hollywood weren’t as disdainful of America and its military as they are now.

It’s also worth noting that this film is a portrait of a heroic white American man. Would you like to see Lin-Manuel Miranda reinvent Patton as a Mexican immigrant? I’m sure there’s a contingent of woke ideologues who would. Can you imagine Brie Larson attempting the opening monologue of Patton? Of course you can’t because it would be laughable and stupid. People can’t even stand her as Captain Marvel. Can you imagine any progressive extolling the American thirst for victory? Of course not because they absolutely despise this country and its people. Besides, it would sound too much like #OrangeManBad.

Nowadays, people will undoubtedly focus on Patton’s megalomaniacal tendencies or some idiotic revisionist claim that he embodies “white supremacy” or nationalism in its most toxic form. It was even suggested in the film after he delivered a reprimand to a traumatized soldier which landed him in the crosshairs of the media. These people can suck on it. I’d wager that the very people who mainstreamed the #PunchANazi meme wouldn’t deign to pay their respects to man who actually went to war against real Nazis.

People my age have only known cynicism and the revolutionary ethos as organizing principles. We’ve grown up in a world where honest patriotism gets conflated with democratic imperialism and military-industrial overreach. We only know a world in which the masters of war seek only to test their game theory models and then take all of their innovations of psychological warfare back home to degrade their own populations. Increasingly, we’re seeing a military-industrial complex push warfare further into the realm of technocratic innovation which would strip away human involvement altogether while moving us closer to the Skynet nightmare suggested in the Terminator series. When you can vaporize an entire country by drone bombing it from a remote location, it removes the necessity for lofty speeches about valor.

We simply don’t even know what it takes to be the kind of soldier George Patton was. We have no idea what it means to live by a soldier’s code. We have no idea what it takes to go into battle with absolute clarity of moral purpose. For George Patton, to die on the battlefield is the highest glory. Patton didn’t hold the modern view that war was an aberration. He held that warfare has been a permanent feature of civilization and saw himself as part of a lineage of military commanders going back to the earliest empires. He studied the strategy of the great military minds and he reveled in his victory over Rommel by beating him at his own game.

The one gripe I have about Patton is that it is another film which casts the struggle against national socialism as the one unequivocal moral imperative which every American should affirm and recognize for all eternity. It’s as though the Nazis were the only genocidal totalitarian regime in human history. While I’m not going to dwell on the interests who funded the war and fomented the conflict, Patton may have been on to something when he compared Democrats and Republicans to Nazis. While the progressive Left is nearly unanimous in its rote denunciations of a manufactured boogeyman of “white nationalism” or “fascism”, the horrors of communism are nearly ignored despite amassing a body count that surpasses the Nazis by several orders of magnitude. Patton’s disdain for the Bolsheviks was explicit in the film and the biographical records, but these details never get the same traction in the public consciousness the same way the Nazi regime does.

The unfortunate irony is that despite all of Patton’s bravery and grit, the American ideals for which he supposedly fought have allowed communist militias to roam American streets and terrorize American citizens with the tacit support from the media and Democratic Party. These contemptible degenerates in Antifa aren’t worthy of scraping dogshit from Patton’s shoe, but they and the media lackeys who prop them up undoubtedly see themselves as the direct equivalent of the soldiers serving under Patton. It is a supreme tragedy that the American spirit which Patton routinely celebrated and idealized has devolved into a decadent lassitude which has allowed subversive groups like this to flourish with the implicit support of the establishment.

I imagine it’s difficult for the contemporary soldier to have a sense of moral clarity about his mission in 2019. Perhaps the notion of Americanism is still sufficient, but it must be a drag knowing that you’re coming home to some ungrateful gender studies graduate who’s going to spit in your face and call you a tool of the white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. The respect that the military are properly due has been poisoned by too many years in overseas interventions whose costs are invisible to the average American. Even after eighteen years in Afghanistan, the elites are wringing their hands over the prospect of withdrawal. What would George Patton have made of all these things? Impossible to know for sure, but I have a hunch he’d still be fighting for the America he lionized in his speeches.