Regulate churches, not wombs

Abortions vs Vasectomy

 

It’s Eros versus Death, always

Carl Sagan in his day spoke of “testosterone poisoning” – today’s we call it “toxic masculinity” and  “it has left a generation of straight men stranded on an emotionally-stunted island, unable to forge intimate relationships with other men. It’s women who are paying the price”, sums up a recent article attempting to explain how men became emotional gold-diggers and how that, in turn, leaves women drained and frustrated.

Men still are “traditionally” raised to view emotions as a feminine trait and a weakness. Heterosexual guys are not supposed to be touchy-feely and sentimental with their buddies – that would be “gay”. So they transfer their need for emotional nurturing from their mothers to their girlfriends and wives, who are expected to become exclusive (and unpaid) male-life-support systems: surrogate mommies, lovers, sex workers, psychoanalysts, domestic doctors and man-flu treatment specialists,  as well as gourmet cooks, expert gardeners, tireless housekeepers, house cleaners and decorators, incubators, educators, nannies, wet nurses and main carers of children and household pets, school-run drivers, shoppers, dog groomers, walkers and trainers, and a zillion other things; moms also have the demands of a job or two to keep up with: capitalism has worked out so great since the seventies that stagnating wages force ordinary folk to juggle two jobs just to struggle from paycheck to paycheck and protect the rich from paying their fair share of taxes.

No wonder heterosexual women with a partner and kids are prone to anxiety, stress, depression and sexual frustration – as, allegedly, many men suck in the sack: apparently, heterosexual men want their partners to orgasm not because they truly care for the woman’s satisfaction but because it boosts their own self-esteem and makes them feel more manly, (no prize for guessing that many overworked and emotionally drained women are simply faking it). Guys, we love you, and you like to hear us say that “size doesn’t matter” and “it’s not the size, it’s how you use it”. Well, learn how to use it, dammit! You can dismantle an engine and put it back together, you can write code to land spacecraft on Mars, yet so many of you still can’t find a clitoris even if we draw you a map and give you more instructions than the average guy needs for learning to drive a car…and despite this, some of you think they know our bodies, our health and our reproductive systems better than us – and what’s more, that they are entitled to dictate our choices…

Angry, Male, Christian and White.

Because of such male over-reliance and toxicity, the whole marital bliss charade turns into a vicious cycle: the more fed-up and unsatisfied women are, the less likely to orgasm and feed their men’s egos, the more insecure the uber-male man-child type gets and his deep-rooted fear and hatred of women intensifies; he develops an addiction to pornography which further feeds objectification, stereotyping and unrealistic expectations; his relationships predictably fail to fill the emotional void and satisfy him; he repeats the same scenario over and over, becoming more and more convinced after each failure that it’s the women’s fault. He turns to the internet to connect and vent, finding plenty of fellow haters among the “angry white men” of the men’s rights movement.

And yes, all men have a deep fear of, and are keen to blame women: for the majority (those that were raised by mothers), the boy’s childhood was entirely dependent on the mother-carer-and-provider-figure (the archetype he subsequently will tend to seek in every woman he gets attached to as an adult); this powerful comforting, soothing archetype is deeply imprinted in the boy’s psyche and grown men tend to expect and demand an almost maternal caring, self-sacrifice, singular devotion and unconditional love in their relationships with women; they feel entitled to this man-worship; if the woman does comply with such standards for exceptional adoration and saintly tolerance, she is a failure and this type of men feel utterly betrayed and let down in their expectations from us. “But-but-but…Mommy used to provide” (and no woman can ever measure up): the basis of misogyny.

After the traumatic realization (in psychoanalytic terms) that he does not own the mother (the Oedipus complex), when the heterosexual boy becomes sexualized, further anxiety is caused by his dependence on women for sexual release. Men who have not processed and overcome these issues tend to see women as controlling because they have the power to sexually arouse them, even to the point of embarrassment, resulting in a love-hate syndrome.

Adult women can’t possibly satisfy these extremely unrealistic expectations and of course, they also have needs and demands of their own, which many men feel inadequate to fulfill. Men who didn’t have mothers, on the other hand, may be prone to even more problematic if not pathological attitudes towards women. It’s no wonder toxic patriarchy seeks to claim ownership over women, vilifies them for “sin”, and is, in essence, a cynical plot to accuse, shame, devalue and dominate them. A strategy to deny women autonomy and independence, disempower them from the power they hold over heterosexual male sexual attraction – and for that reason, patriarchal religion had to anathematize and criminalize sex, desire, Eros. To invent sin and the asexual Virgin Mother. To portray women as disgusting, lecherous, treacherous, hysterical, satanic demons and witches. To subjugate Female sexuality and make the woman commercial property and her virginity a commodity, to be exclusively owned by the father and the husband,  her body, her womb and her reproductive potential bartered, marketed, sold, transferred between overseers, consumers and users, always under the control of Church and State.

Women, especially mothers, tend to be forgiving, supportive and people-pleasing: patriarchal mothers, in particular, may spoil their sons feeding their syndromes and not helping them to heal, grow, mature psychologically and become independent. Often male sex offenders are men who are pathologically attached to their overbearing or mollycoddling mothers, or mothers whom they feel have “abandoned” them at a very young, formative age (through death, separation or adoption); often, conversely, such men may nurture a psychotic kind of misogyny which is extremely sadistic and motivated by revenge.

 

 

Susan Collins congratulated by Trump

White women, who enjoy proximal power from their association with white men, have often served as the white patriarchy’s most eager foot soldiers”.

Susan Collins both complicit and a sucker – yes, she has proven that is a thing. One can be both criminally complicit and monumentally ignorant.

 

These women-hating phenomena, like Incels, are rife in the core of “Alt-right” (white nationalist and white supremacist, neo-Nazi, Christian fundamentalist, racist, homophobic) ideology, and quite prevalent among the less educated men, favoring typically “macho” male – sexist rituals, aggressive male-dominated professions and pursuits; the gun-worshiping / hunting & trophy hunting lobby and the online gaming community are awash with groups where rape is not just trivialized but also normalized and praised as a natural male superiority trait. And on many occasions, misogyny is espoused by some women who either have been duped to adopt such behaviors as empowering, liberating and advancing equality, or are cynically on the side of patriarchy, their complicity to be used in exchange for white privilege.

 

Republicans on rape

 

Trump is a very typical such example of an insecure, spoiled, emotionally stunted, thin-skinned, tantrum-throwing man-child brat: his white-privileged childhood did not provide him with self-respect and compassion, but armed him instead with contempt and false bravado; an illiterate proto-fascist, crude, vulgar, spiteful and arrogant, a conman who relishes mocking and belittling with impunity those who can’t fight back (exemplified by his TV persona as the “Boss” in The Apprentice and the numerous times he attempted to ridicule people, especially women, for their appearance, disabilities and presumed inferiority to him and his “billions and billions of dollars”).

He is overcompensating for his inadequacies with aggression, deception, fraud, fake qualifications, fake tan, phallic buildings, pursuit of power and wealth, shady dealing, trophy wives, judgemental objectification and “pussy-grabbing”, hyperbolic language (with emphasis on “winning” and “yooge”), exaggerating the size of his fortune, obsession with “greatness” and “ultimate” weaponry (nuclear bomb mushroom, space wars and “his” / America’s military prowess), all elements that serve the alt-right, NRA and evangelical agenda perfectly.

A text-book misogynist harboring a deep need to control, overpower and possess what money can buy, the Don is attracted to the man in the mirror, therefore to women who look like him and espouse the same anti-values: a narcissist and wannabe tyrant who admires not those who are better human beings, but those who he would love to be able to emulate – the strongman type dictators – and befriends pedophiles; entertaining sexual innuendos about his own daughter is partly auto-erotic narcissism and quite revealing, as pedophilia and rape are not about sex but power and control. The type of psychopath who fears and hates strong, independent women, he masquerades his lack of confidence by being a bully.

 

Goering on women

 

I have argued before – here – that feminism, the #MeToo movement, women in general, cannot hope to defeat misogyny on their own, despite our numbers because we have always been the target of the twin enemies that all humans regardless of gender, identity and political views are facing: Capitalism and Religion. No matter how many we are, without overthrowing the dual magisterium system, the dice are loaded against us. Rogue, neoliberal, unregulated corporate capitalism is a direct byproduct of toxic masculinity, while Religion is the tool and the strategy that allowed the male domination of human society, through monogamy, marriage and the concept of sin. Patriarchs cannot control women, women’s reproductive choices and children without these strategies. And they know it.

Sexual liberation, atheism / agnosticism, gender fluidity, homosexuality, same sex-unions and parenthood, relaxation of divorce laws and the increase in the number of couples who choose not to marry, non-conventional / non-religious intimate relationships / partnerships and family models (polyamory, open marriages), education, employment and equal pay of women, single motherhood, abortion rights, birth control, in other words, the emancipation and independence of women and social progress towards true equality at home and in the workplace for all citizens (which leads to reduced birth rates and therefore reduced numbers of unemployed, poorly educated, frustrated young people – primarily male – for military recruitment) is what threatens the establishment.

 

Goebbels on women

 

The agents of greed and patriarchy are triggered and marching, motivated by hatred and fear: against abortions, autonomy, choice, equality, freedom, independence. They feel their grip on humanity loosening with the liberal, “loose morals” and the demand for inclusive genders’ rights that threaten “western values”. The War on Women is the war of the Elites against the common human being and the working class, women and men. Abortion rights are human rights and denying that choice to women affects men’s lives, too.

 

Human society can never be truly free, without freedom from religion

 

The establishment’s goal is to put women and the other “inferior humans” back in their place. Overlords and their mouthpieces are emboldened and call for banning contraception next. And how else could they successfully poison the minds of the young and convince them sex is sinful and even masturbation is a crime, if not through the teachings of the church? That is the role of patriarchal religion – career politicians in modern, supposedly secular societies are not keen to openly be seen interfering with the individual’s faith or infringing on personal liberties – simply because that would have a political cost and could potentially backfire. The orders have to come from much higher – the “Heavenly Father” himself: lawmakers and court judges must be seen as merely obeying God’s will and constitutions interpreted accordingly. It’s all very neat and simple, therefore easy to sell and enforce, particularly in disadvantaged, conservative communities.

 

Sen Chambliss on the Abortion bill

 

Church and the Corporation

Societies, therefore, are not really allowed to become truly secular – ironically, under the guise of religious “freedom” – the most deceptively named form of intellectual slavery and mass-poisoning of human conscience. The Elite have made sure Churches are given protection and unregulated reign to proselytize, indoctrinate, coerce, abuse, blackmail, brainwash, exploit the faithful and corrupt public life with reverence and impunity; the stoking of bigotry, jingoism, fear, frustration, prejudice and hatred in the public mind serves their agenda. By division and conquer, by religion infiltrating the classroom and hijacking education, church and state can control public opinion, effectively groom future voters (and consumers) since childhood and herd the adult electorate. It’s a two-way street and a self-serving strategy, as public representatives who relied on those strategies to get into office are guaranteed to maintain the electoral laws and voter suppression that secure the corrupt system in perpetuity.

 

Criminalization of abortion even in the cases of rape and incest

 

That is why churches are tax-free and subsidized, why cults and preachers allowed to defraud, control and manipulate the sheeple: why the agents of patriarchy are free to employ hate speech and propaganda and the establishment media outlets promote intolerance, racism, homophobia, misogyny, persecution and dehumanization of women, of the LGBT+ community, minorities, refugees and everyone else – including objective journalism – that the status quo labels as “Enemy of the People”; that is why they are pro- genital mutilation (circumcision*), abstinence, “purity“-pledging (to daddy) and virginity, sanctity & personhood of the fetus, forced pregnancy and birth, child abuse by religious indoctrination that preserves male superiority, but against social justice and duty of care; churches deliver justification of rape, domestic abuse and incest, genocide, state terrorism, police brutality, preventable disease, social neglect and inequality as “God’s will”, criminalizing the victims and those who dare protest. (One wonders, if God allows rape to happen, as he allows innocent children to get cancer, why can’t it be argued that he also allows abortions, as millions of miscarriages and legal abortions take place daily around the globe? But of course, neither reason nor irony are effective arguments against irrational beliefs).

 

Pastor Dave Barnhart on abortion

 

Patriarchal churches and especially white Christianity and the “Judeo-Christian” values are protected because they enable and provide excuses for a host of other crimes and injustices: by the hijacking or replacing secular education, pushing creationism, superstition and hostility towards science and fact-checking of information, by support of deregulation and biased media spreading misinformation, the public is blindfolded and sleepwalked to apathy towards totalitarianism, famine, poverty, energy wars, the Zionist state genocide and land-grabbing, destabilization and interventionism, child brides, child rape, child prostitution and arranged marriages, trafficking, slavery & sexual slavery cults, corruption, murder, violence, environmental catastrophe, blatant disregard of international treaties and law; above all, the invaluable services they offer to the establishment in return for their preferential status, these “Good Shepherds” have a unique license to interfere with democracy, legislation, justice, independent thought and the free will of the citizens, by dictating to the congregation whom they should vote for. It’s an ideal symbiotic and synergistic relationship of two parasitic bloodsuckers feeding off humanity and the rest of the natural world, which they are destroying for profit.

This is de facto Theocracy, serving and profiteering from Plutocracy, for the mutual gain of both.

Of course, if we look at statistics and facts, the numbers of unplanned pregnancies and abortions are much lower in the least religious, liberal and sexually liberated societies, where children are not raised with the concepts of sin, shame or guilt about sex: where good education and sex education in particular, contraception and abortion are freely available, where young people of all genders and identities are raised as equals and encouraged to discuss, at home and in the classroom, and adequately prepare themselves for safe sex .

But the religious far right is not really looking for ways to protect the unborn: Equality, sexual liberation, fairness, knowledge, facts, science, healthcare, a tax system that serves the common good, are their puppetmasters’ worst nightmare.  So the in Christian Caliphate, the religious Taliban have crawled out from under their Dark Ages rocks to overturn Roe v. Wade, with the help of Chief Justice Kavanaugh, re-elect Trump and complete the wall that separates them from sanity.

Religious rape

The American public is expected to bleed financing and fighting wars around the world to protect the very “freedoms” and “democracy” they are increasingly denied at home; refugees and Muslims are blamed for threatening the “western values” while more than two hundred thousand little girls and boys have been legally raped and married against their will in the USA just in the last fifteen years, all in the name of “religious customs“. These customs and traditions, like male genital mutilation, have been allowed to become public policy, law and medical practice. It’s interesting to note here that male circumcision, one of the innumerable ways religions interfere with health and sexuality, may reduce penis sensitivity and sexual pleasure; if so, it could be argued that, among other consequences, it could be a motive in the reluctance of circumcised men to use condoms and instead rely on women for birth control.  (Read more about the issue here).

 

So much for protecting the fetus

 

So much for the sacred life of the fetus: the fetuses in the lab (fertilized eggs on Petri dishes, whose lives according to the Republicans “have begun at conception”) don’t count. The religious right does not want to protect the unborn – it’s the womb they want to control. They are not Pro-life but Anti-Women.

It should be obvious to all, regardless of their sex and gender, what rogue capitalism (Corporate Plutocracy) and patriarchy want. It should be clear that the War on Women is just one of the items on the agenda of Theocratic Tyranny that includes Perpetual War, War on the Environment, Human Rights, Equality, Justice, Freedoms, Peace, War on Life on Earth as we know it, in effect.

It should be evident that to deny regression back to the Dark Ages, it is Capitalism and Religion that must be regulated, the way they are regulated and not allowed to become rogue and destructive, in the happiest societies on Earth. Personal faith is a right. Religious indoctrination, proselytizing and dictating public policy is not.

It’s Eros versus Death, again

We are all in this struggle for sanity and survival: the Establishment threatens all of humanity and planetary life with Climate Apocalypse and Annihilation. The Orange Fürher and his Reichswehrminister, John Bolton, are doing their damnest to provoke Iran into War. Trump is motivated by fear about his reelection, Bolton by the fear he will never have another opportunity to satisfy his lust for Death (of others).

Of course, all this could have been avoided: a Democrat could have been POTUS if the DNC hadn’t royally screwed Sanders in 2016, if the progressives had turned up at the ballot boxes, if the Electoral College hadn’t overturned the popular vote. And there’s a lesson to be learned from that, but I doubt the American electorate has learned it. The lesson is simple – you can’t have equal rights without a progressive agenda: any attempt to fight back against this assault on women is bound to fail, if the underlying conspiracy of plutocrats and Christian zealots to strangulate progress and suffocate resistance is not addressed head-on. Without holding news outlets accountable when they broadcast bigotry and propaganda instead of facts, without taking Faith out of the classroom and Corporate money out of politics, everyone, women, men, and our children’s future are under threat.

In the meantime, and until the 2020 election in America, rational men and women have to once more take to the streets, lobby, protest, legally challenge and overturn these Handmaid’s Tale nightmares from becoming reality and spreading further. With Trump not impeached, he has a good chance to return to the White House for a second turn, as good a chance as the Brexiteers have in destroying the UK. These two evils combined, with the help of Bolsonaro and the other Dystopian forces on the rise, it would take a massive effort worldwide to avert the worse case scenarios. To put it bluntly, the Planet can’t afford a second term of Trump – or any other establishment puppet – driving the bus.

I would like to hope that with young radicals like Greta Thunberg and her young revolutionaries, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and her Green New Deal and all the progressive movements around the globe, we might be able to keep our dreams alive long enough to buy some precious time for the future generations.

I have more faith that pigs might fly, however.

 

The first pig to officially fly

the first pig to officially fly

 

Christmas message to the young: “We Don’t Care About Your Future”

Christmas 2018 light display, Ballyconnell, Ireland

 

This is the message sent from a small town in R.O.I. to the young people and children of Ireland and the World.

The message is loud and clear: “Business as usual”.

No action, no shame.

This is the latest Christmas video released by Irish DIY company Woodies:

This is definitely not the kind of message we should be sending at a time that immediate Climate Action is needed!

What rock do these people live under? What medieval cave does their mind reside in? Do they have children or grandchildren? Do they care in the least about the kind of world these young people are going to inherit because of our apathy and criminal insanity?

We don’t give a flying fuck about your future” scream the Christmas decorations on the main street.

“We don’t have the decency to do even the smallest thing, to help you have a better tomorrow” shout the lush light displays.

I am ashamed on the behalf of the brain-dead who made this decision.

I am angry for all the others who don’t see why this is so wrong, selfish and criminally irresponsible.

Young people around the world are demanding Climate Action.

What do we say to them? That they don’t have a right to a viable world because we can’t be arsed to get off our butts and change course?

It starts here. It starts now. It starts with us.

With you and me.

If we don’t act on Climate Change now there will be nothing left to celebrate in the years to come. The cost of apathy is death and destruction of life as we know it. [Read: Biological Annihilation – a planet in loss mode].

 

Evil

 

“Christmas time is accompanied by seasonal increases in our level of consumption. From eating and drinking to giving and receiving, it is the time of the year when we do things to excess.

Our total consumption and spending on food, travel, lighting and gifts over three days of festivities could result in as much as 650 kg of carbon dioxide emissions (CO2) per person – equivalent to the weight of 1,000 Christmas puddings! This is 5.5% of our total annual carbon footprint”. [The Carbon Cost of Christmas].

Let that sink in: we are adding 5.5% to the damage we’ve already done. Every single year. For bling! 

Researchers at the Stockholm Environment Institute (SEI-Y), based at the University of York, calculated the Carbon Cost of Christmas – over just three days of festivities (Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day). This survey does not take into account the carbon footprint of the entire festive season which for many if not most has started already, with extra shopping and driving to and from shops to buy gifts, send cards, and extravagant lighting displays that are already up and will stay up until twelve days after Christmas.

So the real cost of Christmas on Climate Change is many times over than the study calculated and truly staggering for its effects on our already struggling planet…

Add to that the many other negative impacts of the Christmas season consumerism amok – the True Environmental Cost of Christmas. This is our Christian humanity and Christmas Spirit, while humans in other parts of the globe are being ravaged by the effects of Climate Change, while babies are dying in man-made famine, genocide and wars, while asylum seekers (just like the biblical Mary & Josef) are jailed, persecuted, separated from their children and attacked with poison gas…

 

Climate Change and Santa

source

 

What Christmas means is Family Time: a few days, hours, special moments shared with my loved ones – which this year will be limited, as they will be working for most of the Christmas and New Year period. Oh yeah, Capitalism is so great…

Family: it’s not about presents and money and putting up a bigger tree than the neighbor, our Christmas light displays being the most outrageous in the neighborhood or keeping up with the Joneses and the Kardashians.

It’s about caring. It’s about empathy. It’s about making each other feel better and making each other’s lives a little better, with Peace, Love and Understanding.

12 Days before Christmas, driving through small rural towns that are competing against each other for the biggest and most expensive, impressive decorations and light displays their meager budgets can afford, I truly wonder how many people are really thinking and care about the fact we are just 12 years away from the point of no return: civilization collapse and our children’s worse nightmares.

All I want for Christmas is a Future – not for me, lucky me, old enough to look back and be grateful that I have lived a dozen lifetimes in one, with enough adventures and memories to sustain me to the last of my days – but for my young loved ones.

We need to realize we are facing a real ultimatum, the most life-threatening emergency we’ve ever faced as a species; we simply can’t afford this insanity. This is a time for people to be acting exactly as they would, and as they did before, at war times – doing away with every luxury that is putting our future – our innocent children’s future – at grave danger. Living sensibly.

Climate Change Denial is deadly. Those who have children and grandchildren surely must now step up and do their duty. [recommended reading: “Hothouse Earth Co-Author: “The Problem Is Neoliberal Economics“].

What everyone should be doing:

Consume Less. Buy Local. Eat Less Meat & Dairy. Recycle-Repair-Reuse. Drive Less – Use Public Transport. Conserve Energy. Switch to Sustainable. Plant Trees. VOTE for people and policies that value Life. Demand Climate Action

Simple things, not a huge sacrifice, if we think what’s at stake: Life. Itself.

If we all did our best maybe we can all get what we want – what everybody with a bit of sense wants for Christmas and every day of the year: Love, and a chance for a better Tomorrow. It doesn’t matter if you believe in Christmas or not -Christmas is an ancient pagan festival hijacked by Christianity- Climate affects us all.

Yes, we are at that: we used to dream of “a better future”. Now even a mere future is no longer a certainty. Hothouse Earth will be inhospitable for intelligent life.

I don’t know what you want for Christmas, but I do think what really matters is  what our children and grandchildren ask for. What every parent, grandparent  and sane person on Earth should dream of and work for:

 A Future for All the world’s Children.

 

earth-1617121_1920

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hope is dying. Dream we must.

 

Humanity's ability to dream

source

 

The popular saying, hope dies last? I beg to differ. It’s dreams that die last. And they only die when we do. Dreams die when the brain dies – unlike hopes. The sentient animal dreams. “Hopes” are conditions: expecting, projecting, wishful thinking. Dreams are unconditional, infinite possibilities.

We have no way of knowing if other sentient animals experience what we define as “hope” – until, maybe, one day we can communicate with dolphins and ask them some important questions hoping they answer. We can merely hope they answer. They might refuse to communicate, or they might respond in a non-informative way, like telling us to mind our own business. Would you blame them for that?

Animals do learn from past events and they do get conditioned to react to similar situations in similar ways – we call it learning, experience, training. But that is not hope. Although it would offer humans more actual reason to be optimistic, if we did manage to learn from history much better…

Humans always imagined Eutopias , Dystopias & Utopias. There is some confusion about these terms: Eutopia (from Greek “eu” = good + “topos” = place) is a realistic ideal situation, a society that we can actually work towards to and make happen. (Eutopia is not pronounced like Utopia in Greek, but Eftopia). Utopia is also a good place, but it’s unrealistic: a perfect state that is not feasible.  Heaven. A Paradise. Pessimists would say that a Eutopia is Utopian, as human nature is imperfect. Optimists would think that even Utopias are feasible – hence the confusion between these two (remember The Field of Dreams?) Realists would say that every improvement is Eutopian – a step closer to that Good Place. Everyone agrees on what Dystopia means: a very negative version of the future that we will end up in, as a result of bad choices, if we don’t work to avoid it.

The belief that human society is always improving, that there is always progress, is a particularly persistent form of optimism that is obviously unwarranted. We are accelerating towards a Dystopian future that is just a few decades away, at most. Civilizations flourish, reach an apex, decline and often entirely disappear. (According to the Great Filter theory, “intelligent” life may self-destruct before it reaches capability for interstellar travel). The industrial civilization, for all its accomplishments and improvements in quality and expectancy of life, is sleepwalking towards extinction.

Hope is dying. 

Powerful examples of thought-provoking Dystopian concepts in literature and film are Aldus Huxley’s Brave New World (1932), George Orwell’s Animal Farm (1945) and 1984 (1949), Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (1953), Anthony Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange (1962), Philip K. Dick’s The Man In the High Castle (1962) and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (1968, the book which gave us the classic Blade Runner), Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse – 5 (1969), Alan Moore & David Floyd’s V for Vendetta (1988-89), Susan Collins’ The Hunger Games (2008) and a personal favorite, Equilibrium (2002).

Some great Utopias (in the Eutopian sense) include the most influential Plato’s Republic (c 380 BC), H. G. Wells’ A Modern Utopia (1905), and one of my most favorite science fiction novels, Arthur C. Clark’s Childhood’s End (1953).

Up until recently, we thought that non-human animals only live in the now – we were wrong. Not only some animals remember the past but they can also plan for the future. Undoubtedly, some intelligent sentient animals are self-aware and they do dream. We don’t know exactly if they can imagine the future like we do or how far ahead they can plan for, but there is evidence to suggest that some great apes do make future plans; of course, many animals dream in a rudimentary, elementary, involuntary sense.

We don’t just dream in that involuntary sense – we consciously, intentionally, assertively, proactively imagine better realities and better futures.  We aspire, wish for, yearn, visualize, envision. And engage in wishful thinking –  daydreaming – escapism, and often delude and convince ourselves that our hopes are justified – even if and especially when they aren’t…

We dream because the Eros Principle (the life instinct) seeks joy. It motivates us to create, preserve, perpetuate life. Our brain plays out scenarios – wish fulfillment – that we get pleasure from. It plays out soothing scenarios but also anxiety dreams, or nightmares, reactions to negative experiences, tension-release mechanisms. We don’t exactly understand the purpose of involuntary dreams, but they aren’t the subject of this post anyway.

The other dreams, the visions, the active, positive, creative wonderings of our imagination, the Voyages to a Good Place, are the ones we can make sense of; they represent the kind of future and improved reality we want ourselves and our children to live in; those conscious, intentional dreams, are the stuff inventions, breakthroughs in science, technology and society are made of; yet at the moment of conception, when the first flight of fancy or novel idea is born in the mind, we don’t know if they are realistic, if they have any chances of ever becoming true, if they could indeed lead to something better or not; still, the mere fact that we dream those dreams excites us and makes us happy. It makes us optimistic. It gives us hope.

So it’s dreams that offer hope, not the other way around.

And when reality proves that hope is not justified, what we are left with is still -dreams. Ideas are still there in the mind, in a dormant state, waiting to happen. Especially now, with the virtual reality of the cyberworld in place, alternative realities are part of our everyday tangible reality. We create them just to escape or as models of a better tomorrow. Even escapism can shape the future – with technologies that allow us to access and sense, experience the virtual world as if it was the real one. Science fiction that started with the stories of Jules Verne and long before him, thousands of years ago, with primitive and early humans casting their mind as far and wide as the cosmos, creating Eutopias, Utopias and Dystopias with imagination alone, has become a driver of innovation, invention and science.

Dreaming shapes our world.

Scientists by definition are realists; they know, to take a prime example, the most important issue of all, that Global Warming is real; they also know for a fact that we have very slim chances of avoiding it; they don’t hope – hope alone doesn’t actually help in increasing the odds of survival. In a way, hope leads to unrealistic expectations, complacency, inaction: “Oh sure, things are looking bad, but hey, everything’s gonna be alright“. No, it’s not. That’s false hope. Things don’t work like that. If things are bad, to make them better, or simply avoid them getting worse, we need ideas to make changes happen; and actions, not hopes.

Science is determined to solve the problem because realistic, factual thought knows the human population will not do enough, will not change the way it conducts its life sufficiently fast to restore the damage. There are too many idiotic deniers and too many insane, ignorant world-scale criminals working against humanity: lying to the public, casting doubt about research and facts, deflecting and distracting public opinion from the emergency and seriousness of the threat.

Politics and positions of influence and power attract opportunists and malignant narcissists. History is full of them and of the catastrophic carnages of war and genocides they caused. Unfortunately just as Global Warming requires massive common effort and international cooperation, there are some world leaders that are sworn to the opposite, for their own political and financial gain, their monumental lack of empathy and their ties with corporate greed. The situation is made worse because of the combined influence of religions and traditions that cultivate and propagate apathy, faith in messianic saviors and belief in miracles.

 

Amazon

 

Religion trades in hopes: it sells comfort, and promises miraculous salvation; it promotes apathy and obeisance with the illusion of an afterlife where things are perfect – a future where dreams have already come true. Hey, you don’t have to get off your butt to make this life better (“do not worry about tomorrow”); all you got to do is believe without proof – have faith without evidence – do as you’re told – comply, and magically you will be rewarded – after you’re dead.

But – what about now? What about this life? OK, then, pray. Prayers will give you comfort…Meanwhile, you can “sin” all you like, be a total asshole – don’t you worry, little mortal, you will be forgiven. Go ahead, detonate nuclear bombs, destroy the world, kill millions of innocent children, abuse, murder, rape, exploit – still, you will go to heaven if you repent, so this life doesn’t matter. What kind of pay-as-you-go morality is this? Go ahead and be a total dick and a creep, a child molester even, a cruel homicidal sadist, then go to confession and the slate is wiped clean. Pope will sell you absolution. Christian ethics, Muslim morals – wonderfully elastic, ever so convenient…and deadly. Religion, conformity and consumerism formed the Axis of Evil that threatens life on Earth.

Comfort is not motivation. It reinforces optimism that things are going to be alright on their own. It’s a cop-out. It’s irrational. Pray and wait, some time prayers may be answered. Just wait, things are going to get better because they always do…but in truth, we don’t know that things are going to get better, in fact, the evidence points to the contrary. Waiting for miracles to happen or imaginary superheroes and totalitarian leaders to save us is definitely not the best survival plan. What animal senses danger and prays or hopes instead of getting out of harm’s way? only one – the most intelligent of all, as we arrogantly claim: homo sapiens, dumbed down by its own imbecilic, prehistoric invention, of a primitive psychological need born out of fear and ignorance about natural laws.

Without changes, we can’t rely on chances. We can’t just hope for a random fortunate turn of events. That would be highly illogical, in situations that actually depend on us, on action or inaction. We need to get out of our comfort zone to make things better. Keep doing the same thing and expecting different results is insane. We need effort, not wishful thinking.

In predictable fields, where we can recognize trends and make projections, it is quite possible to collect data and make educated judgments about the outcome. Some things are quite predictable. A sumo wrestler can’t possibly win the Olympic gold medal in pole-vaulting. That’s an improbability; winning the lottery is a probability, it’s just very, very unlikely, because although someone – a random person – does win the lottery quite often, the odds of it happening to you, or me – a specific personare astronomical. Common sense (in other words, experience) and science can predict outcomes with varying degrees of accuracy. From the study of past events, facts and figures and cause and effect and natural laws, not by guessing or reading the tea leaves and the daily horoscope…

Sure, we could hope our lives away, but it would be self-destructive. When we know reality is bad and can’t get better by just hoping, without positive action hope dies. Belief without reason can make you feel better – it can be comforting: but it’s not going to make our world any better for you and your loved ones, cure AIDS or avoid catastrophe…

 

Amazon rainforest

 

What realists and scientists and dreamers and inventors and creators and we all (potentially) have in common are, unsurprisingly, dreams. Ambitions. Creative thinking. Curiosity. Goals. Ideas. Ingenuity. Plans. Visions. Some of us don’t just rely on hope, expecting leaders, Lady Luck and gods to make things better: they imagine a better place, a better life, a better future; they wish for a better way, a more efficient method of achieving this or that and they act, work to find ways to invent it and make it happen. That is the value of dreams.

They could be totally unrealistic – like the idea of time travel, which is theoretically possible, but only under such unlikely conditions to make it highly improbable – or they could be totally possible. Faith promises absolute certainties without facts, proof or reason. Science deals with possibilities, facts and logic.

The distance between a better future (a Eutopia) and a bad present (not quite a terminal Dystopia, yet…but increasingly becoming one) is those possibilities and rational thought. We empirically know that there are no problems without solutions.

What we have, beyond hope, is our ability to dream a better reality and make it happen. That’s how progress is achieved. That’s how we find cures for disease. That’s how we improve living standards. Religious faith believes in gods’ will; the same “benevolence” that, according to the primitive “logic” that invented gods in man’s own image, gives cancer to innocent children.

Faith submits and subjugates us to accepting a malicious, preposterous, fatalistic concept. Humanity and rational thought revolts against it. If you could create a universe, would you punish your most innocent children for any reason – and then be such a reprehensible coward as to blame it on themselves, parents, women and “original sin”? The answer is a resounding no – human morality is much better than that. Only a capricious, vindictive sadist would do what theists accept as the work of a divine superior mind. Epicurus disposed of that absurdity more than two thousand years ago – and his logic remains irrefutable:

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent.  Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent.  Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil?  Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?”

So don’t despair when hope is dying. It’s only the primitive belief in fate and a  future dependent on divine will that keeps us shackled in a prehistoric dark cave, rejecting the marvel and potency of Ideas, casting doubt in our potential to shape our own present and future reality. Our history attests to the opposite. Humanism rejects the morally bankrupt concept of a superior puppet-master.

Don’t give up when everything points out to a very dark dystopia with little chance of escape. Realism is a better source for optimism –  fear kicks butt into gear. We are the product of adaptation and evolution that equipped us for survival  – with instincts, cognition, curiosity, imagination. For as long as we can dream, we grasp the possibility of a better tomorrow out of thin air and find exactly what we need to do to make it happen.

We can cure sickness – because we can dream, and act-move-work to make ideas realize a better tomorrow. We are work in progress and that in itself is wonderful. Sure, we are capable of some pretty horrible things and we’ve put ourselves and life on the planet in a very critical situation. But it’s us who did that – not Jesus or Mohammed, and that means we can correct it.

 

Ocelot in Equador rainforest

 

Scientists have given up hope about humanity collectively changing overnight and surviving Global Warming. Professor Stephen Hawking spoke of alternative possibilities for survival. That is realism and imagination, positive thinking and problem-solving all in one.

Scientists have given up hope because it is passive and unrealistic: educated, pragmatic thought is the opposite of that: active, inquisitive, always questioning, wondering, probing, proposing theories & hypotheses, experimenting, pushing the boundaries – not expecting that all will somehow be revealed as if by magic; conscious Dreams and plans are real and proactive. Visions and visualizations of possibilities are the opposite of passive and pathetic – they are windows of the mind to an alternative universe that we could arrive at by a change of course – making the invention of solutions possible.

Hold on to that thought.

If there is a real, pressing need, intelligence, ingenuity, research, study, the prolific human brain will find a way to answer it. That is what inspiration and experimentation have been doing for thousands of years. Providing solutions to problems, old and new. After days, months, years, decades, centuries – as better tools and improved methods become available, Eureka springs into consciousness like a triumphant cascade of light – a moment of great joy and sublime sense of accomplishment.

The first step towards that progress was dreaming.

We had been looking at the moon and stars, longingly, for thousands of years. Wondering what they were. Yearning to reach them. Hope alone would have never gotten us there.

What took us there was the dream, the initial Erotic hunger and thirst: falling in love with an idea. Interacting with the objects of desire: knowledge, life, the universe and everything – every question, every enigma, every knowable fact, every conceivable answer, every reachable conclusion, discovery, frontier…at first flirting with it, pondering on it; then probing at it, embracing its possibilities, visualizing the journey and the outcome; nurturing, feeding and keeping the dream alive, no matter how long it requires; growing and expanding the thought process to fruition; examining, learning and memorizing every step on the map along the way, working with facts and tools and figures; artfully applying old and new techniques towards finding the best route to make the voyage possible, to arrive at the destination, give birth to and unveil a new reality, create a new state of existence.

This is what I meant by Eutopian voyager: the journey bridging the distance between imagination and existence, between Eros  (the yearning) and materialization. It’s what makes us special as a species. The dream is the first step, even before we prepare to set sail. That precious beginning, like a little spark in the darkness.

There is a magnificent moment in the masterpiece of Stanley Kubrick & Arthur C. Clarke, 2001: A Space Odyssey dedicated to The Dawn of Homo Sapiens, accompanied by the truly mindblowing orchestral introduction of Richard Strauss’ Thus Spoke Zarathustra. It is that split second, that the thinking mind grasps the possibility, the first glimpse of an idea that begins to form. You can feel the spark igniting, the glorious instant of change that made an entirely different history possible. An alternative universe was born at that very fraction of a second, the burst of an impulse that generated a universe that includes humanity. The start of an epic journey to discovery and becoming. The conscious dream that transformed our distant ancestors from thinking apes to sapient humans.

It doesn’t matter if hope dies. It’s a good thing: letting go of the superstition that things can improve if we remain fatalistic, passive witnesses of history, by some kind of an outside miracle, means coming of age as a reasoning, intelligent species. Our very humanity is born out of that brave, defiant, magnificent risk of trying different things, overcoming obstacles, pushing boundaries, becoming ourselves, protagonists in our lives, rather than just following a predetermined track.

Empathy, Realism, Imagination, Ingenuity are far better propositions for individual and collective improvement, rather than relying on hopes; they have often been false. They let us down more times than not. Hopes are mortal during our lifetimes, especially if we put our faith in gods and god-like despots, instead of pragmatic, hard-working, fact-checking, inquisitive, problem-solving, mature rational thought.

Giving up faith, empowering our minds, opening our eyes to reality, embracing aspiration and action is our only source of hope: Eutopian change for the better. It means we grow up to take control of our fate and future, instead of putting our trust in Pandora or some other imaginary benefactor. It signifies we care enough for ourselves and each other to take responsibility for our actions, instead of blaming what happens on divine will. Caring for each other and the future generations are what makes us humane, our strength, our heritage and our legacy. Isolation, lack of cooperation, hostility, are paving a highway to death and destruction.

Emancipation from servitude to a creator is the prerequisite of what we call Freedom. Religion & free will are mutually exclusive. The concept of a divine master endowing us with free will is oxymoronic and immature. The very reason we arrived at two minutes to midnight for life as we know it, is blind faith: sheeple mentality, religious traditionalism, patriarchal inequality, injustice, prejudice, division between the favorite sons and the children of lesser gods, between the master’s flock and the infidels, between us and them; exhausting the planet’s resources as if Earth was made for us to consume because the Bible says so; removing control of reproduction from women; believing that we have a better world to go to after death; replacing reason and philosophy (Eros, lust for knowledge) with a sterile, debilitating worship for tribal totems and anachronistic taboos; being reared and conditioned by churches to follow and obey mass-murdering tyrants like the faithful follow their tyrannical, whimsical gods.

What we define as “humane” is the very essence of morality that is a natural product of evolution, instead of god-made: empathy, compassion, communication, mutual support and teamwork, tolerance, understanding, are essential attributes of social species; we depend on these evolutionary qualities for survival and happiness, instead of obeying commands to avoid punishment and gain favor with a supernatural despot; that servile proposition is the very essence of corruption, it’s a transaction instead of ethics…

What we term as heroic is altruism, the sacrifice of self for the greater good: the very same natural product of evolution that is innate in most social animals; we aid and protect each other, shed our individual lives to save one another and the young – no different than any other mammal; they all display these instincts; they didn’t get them from faith, churches, commandments or biblical teachings, but from the common genetic code of synergistic behavior members of social species carry in their DNA.

Already ancient Greek thought, although still religious, realized that hope is not enough, prayer alone can’t provide solutions – action can: “Syn Athena kai heira kinei”  – pray to the goddess Athena (to save you from drowning), but also use your arms to swim. Philosophy thousands of years ago arrived at the conclusion that there is no imaginary friend in the sky – and then patriarchal religion spread like wildfire imprisoning human consciousness to this day, poisoning the human mind since childhood, trying to keep us controlled in the pens of organized churches to serve the interests of the Elite masterclass. As a result, billions live in poverty, die of preventable diseases, are denied their human rights and deprived of education, marginalized, exploited, robbed of opportunities and real participation in the decision-making about their lives, even in the world’s wealthiest economies.

What we need in this critical time is to keep the dream and our humanity alive. Reject the mental slavery that keeps humanity following the twin sirens of death and destruction to its peril. Religion is a death-wish. It’s the enemy of the life force – the Eros principle; an obsession with the afterlife at the expense of this one.

Corporate greed has been using the same propaganda techniques as religion, to establish its world domination; it has used the hypnotic influence of blind faith to manipulate the public, keep voters uninformed, deluded and powerless to determine their own future.

Hopes are dying and our dreams are being transformed into nightmares. The old vampires of fascism and tyranny are rising and baying for blood.

We have to resist and survive. We have to unite, organize and act: work together.

Keep Life Going. Life is its own reward.

Plant many, many baby tomorrows. Dream as if your life depends on it – it does. Save the forests. Preserve the future.

Tropical rainforest

When agents of Evil crawl out of darkness to kill Hope, what we have left is stronger: Dreams. Ideas. Human values.      

 

*Συν Αθηνά και χείρα κίνει

Escape to Mars

Mars

 

Mars is in the news again.

NASA’s InSight spacecraft is on course to attempt a landing on November 26. Update: InSight Lands Safely on Mars – Congratulations, humankind!

For some, colonizing the red planet or the moon is our only chance. For others, it’s an impossible dream because of our biology.

Mars has always excited the human imagination. The planet nearest to Earth has featured endlessly in fantasy & science fiction, both literature and film.

Until The Martian (a great science & survival movie – but without much heart…) there was talk of a “movie curse” – a “box office curse” on Mars-related pictures.

Curiously, there has also been a curse on Edgar Rice Burroughs (“probably the most influential writer in the entire history of the world”, according to Ray Bradbury, at least); his novels are still as popular as ever, but despite the financial success of some of their cinematic adaptations, like the Tarzan series, they failed on the critical reception front. Victims of artistic snobbery against “pulp” fiction.

The huge-budget Disney project of a Burroughs novel set on Mars was, therefore, a double-whammy gamble against these odds; and fail it did, financially, monumentally so, yet only just, because its cost was so gigantically overblown it was a mathematical impossibility to recoup. Still, the film grossed a whopping, staggering, gargantuan 300 million USD worldwide, against a jaw-dropping production and marketing combined costs of $350 million… to break even, it would have to generate worldwide tickets sales of more than $600 million, a height reached by only 63 films in the entire history of moviemaking…it was a tall order but it was also colossal mismanagement, not lack of merit, that caused its failure.

Just give it a bit more time though…and it might just get there. Fantasy and sci-fi fans haven’t stopped loving, downloading, renting, watching, rewatching, blogging, talking, writing about it and defending it:

I’m talking of course about the awe-inspiring picture that’s adored by countless lovers of escapism, that totally wild visual feast, that cinematic riot of a space-opera-western-sci-fi-magic, that thrilling action-fairytale-adventure unlike no other, that mesmerizing, marvelous and uniquely Barsoomian, otherworldly romantic saga…

the one and only

John Carter

 

John Carter poster

 

The one movie that most fantasy aficionados want to see a sequel of before we die. An absolutely No 1 wet dream when it comes to movie bucket lists; and so heartbreaking that will never (?) happen, as John Carter has become box office poison, judged solely on how much money the studio lost on it, instead of the absolutely insane number of people who did see it, loved it and can’t have enough it. Yeah, that’s Hollywood, folks…Maybe it will change its mind yet…The film has all the markings of an underappreciated classic. And I think it will be favorably judged in years to come, by cinematic history, as the instincts of its objective viewers have already exonerated it and shown its detractors to be wrong.

 

John Carter movie poster

 

It’s the moviegoers that are always the final decider, judge and jury of motion pictures. Just read what they have to say: the film critics who bashed it must have been watching a different picture – the consensus from those who did not believe the naysayers but formed their own opinion reads like “wow, what an absolutely stunning, surprising, mind-blowingly wonderful treat of a movie”… Disney studio executives made abysmally stupid errors in the marketing and promotion of the film despite the mostly excellent initial reviews…and why didn’t they call it Princess of Mars – what was wrong with Burroughs’ original title? it would have definitely made a big difference at the box office…

 

Deja Thoris meet John Carter

 

The -unimaginatively if not downright male-chauvinistically-named John Carter didn’t pretend to be arthouse, a vehicle of philosophical musings about the cosmos or an auteur director’s masterful commentary about the human condition. Its job was to offer one and a half hour of exhilarating entertainment, a host of fantastical creatures and adventures in imaginary worlds – and that it does pretty damn well, with a solid cast, great storytelling, memorable characters, fantastic atmosphere, beautiful music and stunning visuals. So well, in fact, that I haven’t been able to dismiss it ever since it first won me over; it’s still alluring and enjoyable every single time, archetypal fantasy at its best. And, needless to add, for me it’s The Princess of Mars and John Carter – that’s how I think of it.

 

Barsoom Airships

 

Every other genre picture that came before it, from Star Wars to Indiana Jones and Avatar (James Cameron admitted as much), had borrowed, copied from and was inspired directly by Burroughs’ iconic novels and the fantasy comics they generated. John Carter should have been more successful in cinemas than Avatar – not just because it’s a better movie than the much-hyped Avatar, but also because it is the original article while Cameron’s is a derivative “white savior” messianic pastiche epic…(basically, a copycat of Dances with Wolves set on another planet). John Carter does not save Barsoom – he is saved by it: Fifty million miles apart, and no way to bridge the gap, no way to return my body and my soul to their true home“, his demoralized spirit and hungry heart having found new reasons to live and dream on Mars…But Avatar had the hype, the famous director, the better marketing and better studio management behind it…

 

https_i.pinimg.comoriginalsdab08ddab08d4d88541595ab5cf39434f01f3a

 

John Carter is a back to the roots movie that just grows on you and involves you with its authenticity and old-fashioned cinematic magic; just like “magic” its appeal is never quite explicable yet it feels true; this is the stuff dreams are made of, silver screen dreams included: you somehow end up far more fond and nostalgic of it than other more critically acclaimed examples of the genre. The child in you finds himself or herself returning to the age of innocence and looking up in the night sky wishing that Burroughs’ Barsoomian universe was real, hoping that the Princes of Helium and her Earthman are out there living happily ever after… it’s Deja’s and John’s love story, a story made of the timeless essence myths and legends that stay with us are made of, because they speak to our souls…

 

Deja, John & Sola (John Carter)

 

Lynn Collins’ Deja Thoris is gorgeous and terrific: a fully developed, athletic-looking, fiery, scorchingly-attractive, proud, strong woman, unlike so many vapid lame adolescent cartoonish lifeless female pinup caricatures and totally feeble decorative bores in fantasy and sci-fi. She is a prototype “regal, formidable heroine who was entitled to choose for herself who she slept with despite what some men in her warlike, slave-owning culture thought to the contrary”; a woman of color, a warrior and a woman of wisdom – she is  the Regent of Science and Letters – and before you think her scant outfits are a titillation device, think again: Barsoomian culture considers clothes “unsightly pieces of cloth”. Much less prissy than we are, those Martians…

Taylor Kitsch is fresh, fit and handsome here; he was cast because Carter’s character is a military survivor – not an apologist: a heartbroken man who has seen the ugly madness of war, has lost his loved ones and is looking for inner peace; a wounded human defending the Eros Principle, not a blunt, blind instrument of death; there “was a certain damaged quality behind the eyes,” said producer Jim Morris. “There’s something a little broken.”

 

Taylor Kitsch in John Carter

 

John Carter is an entirely likable and thoroughly believable character, a perfect match for the Princess: a genuinely decent, honorable man who is star-struck and out of his depth on Barsoom, yet clever and courageous, swiftly adapting and evolving into a positively inspiring, noble hero as the movie progresses, never a stereotypical arrogant brute macho dick: he is respectful, intelligent, sophisticated, well-read and keen to learn; as a result, the love affair of Deja and John is effective; we empathize with them and their quest – to fight against oppression and be together.

The film remains faithful to the author’s vision while avoiding the sexist pitfalls of his era. It is an empowering film for women and a true romance. Barsoom has depth and a universal, timeless message of a legitimate struggle for freedom and survival bringing people together, that it delivers very well, without beating the viewer over the head with ideological propaganda, but through the medium of unapologetically fun adventure.

 

Barsoomian "flyers"

 

From the Tharks and their thoats to the stunning cyberpunkish airships and from the Great White Apes to the most-adorable-fantasy-dog-ever, Barsoom, Deja, Helium, Tharks, Therns, Zodangas, John’s escapades on Earth and Mars, and the ingenious finale are a great spin of the yarn Burroughs crafted…

Ignore the naysayers: this is a must-see movie. One brilliant, epic, intense, addictive, joyful picture with a very original story and impressive attention to detail that draws you in and leaves you craving a sequel – with the same cast, if at all possible…Willem Dafoe as Tars TarkasSamantha Morton as Sola, Mark Strong as Matai Shang, Dominic West as Sab Than, Ciarán Hinds as Tardos Mors, James Purefoy as Kantos Kan, Bryan Cranston as Colonel Powell, Daryl Sabara as Edgar Rice Burroughs… and directed by Pixar’s brilliant Andrew Stanton, who would have loved to make those sequels…

 

Thark on thoat

Thark on Thoat

 

The film begins in 1881 after the sudden death of John Carter, a former American Civil War Confederate Army captain. His nephew, Edgar Rice Burroughs, attends the funeral. Following Carter’s instructions, the body is put in a tomb that can be unlocked only from the inside. His attorney hands over Carter’s personal journal to Burroughs, in the hope of finding clues explaining Carter’s cause of death.

 

John & Deja on Barsoom

John: Maybe I ought to get behind you.
Dejah: You let me know when it gets dangerous.

 

The diary goes back to 1868 in Arizona, where Union Colonel Powell arrests Carter, a civil war veteran, for refusing to join the army. Carter was trying to live a normal civilian life while Powell, aware of his military background, sought his help in fighting the Apache. Carter escapes but fails to get far with U.S. cavalry in close pursuit. After a run-in with Apaches, Carter and a wounded Powell seek shelter in a cave that turns out to be what Carter had been searching for, the ‘Spider Cave of Gold’. A Thern appears and attacks them with a knife; Carter kills him but accidentally activates the Martian’s medallion, which transports him to a ruined and dying planet, Barsoom.

 

Woola ! JOHN CARTER
Conceptual Art of Woola

 

Because of his different bone density and the planet’s low gravity, Carter is able to jump very high and perform feats of incredible strength. He is however captured by the Green Martian Tharks and their Jeddak (emperor) Tars Tarkas. And he is “adopted” by a Barsoomian dog-like companion, the devoted Woola. Woola is a calot: Carter saves him from a Great White Ape and “in a little experiment, wrapped an arm around Woola’s neck and began to stroke his ugly head as one would stroke the head of a dog. Woola, who’d never before experienced kindness, felt an immediate love for the Earthman, and thereafter became his loyal hound.”

 

http_scifidesign.comwp-contentuploads201409John-Carter-Art2

 

Woola is intensely loyal and affectionate, fiercely protective of Carter and his family, funny, playful and has a very keen sense of smell – he can find Carter from practically anywhere. His ten (or six) legs allow him to run faster than any other creature on Mars, at an amazing 250 miles per hour. He also digs into the sand to burrow for camouflage. Technically he is a reptilian, a kind of lizard, and his three rows of shark-like teeth are extremely sharp and useful in battle.  Basically, Woola is the best pet anybody could ever wish for on Barsoom and adorably “ugly”-cute…

 

the Warrior Princess of Barsoom

 

Elsewhere on Barsoom, the Red Martian cities of Helium and Zodanga have been at war for a thousand years. Sab Than, Jeddak of the genocidal Zodanga, armed with a powerful weapon he got from the Thern leader Matai Shang, proposes a marriage between himself and the Princess of Helium, offering a cease-fire and an end to the war. The Princess refuses, perhaps sensing it’s an evil plot, she escapes and in the process, she meets Carter; they rescue each other, then Dejah, Carter and Tarkas’ daughter Sola embark on a journey to the end of a sacred river; they seek to find a way for Carter to return to Earth, that the Martians call Jasoom. They learn about the “ninth ray”, a means of using infinite energy that can save the dying planet and is also the key to understanding how the medallion works.

 

John Carter (2012): John & Deja

 

 

Deja, John and Sola are attacked by Shang’s minions, the Green Martians of Warhoon. Carter and the Princess are captured but Sola manages to escape. Dejah reluctantly agrees to marry Sab Than in order to save Helium and Carter. She gives him the medallion and sends him back to Earth, but he decides to stay; he is then captured by Shang, who explains to him how the Thern overlords manipulate the civilizations of different planets. Carter escapes and returns with Sola to the Tharks to ask their help, only to discover that Tarkas has been overthrown by a ruthless, cruel brute, Tal Hajus. Tarkas, Carter, and Sola are thrown against two enormous four-armed Great White-Apes. Carter defeats them and kills Hajus. The Tharks adopt the Earthman as their new Jeddak leader.

 

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The Thark army attacks the imperialistic Zodangans at Helium and defeats them by killing Sab Than, but Shang escapes. Carter marries Deja and becomes the prince of Helium. He decides to stay forever on Mars and throws away his medallion on their wedding night. Shang then appears and takes the opportunity to banish him back to Earth; Carter embarks on a long quest, hoping to find another medallion; after several years he appears to die suddenly and asks for the unusual funeral arrangements, as his return to Mars would leave his Earth body in a comatose state. He makes Burroughs his protector, leaving clues to him about opening the tomb.

 

 

John Carter of Mars

 

“We may have been born worlds apart, but I know you, John Carter…”

Don’t you see? Carter, I fled to find another way. You are the other way“.

 

jcm-37

 

Back in present time, Burroughs opens Carter’s tomb only to find it empty. A Thern who has been watching Carter disguised as a man has followed Burroughs and is about to kill him when Carter appears and kills the Thern. Carter then tells Burroughs that he never found a medallion but devised this scheme to lure one of the Therns into revealing himself. Carter takes the medallion, whispers the code and is transported back to Barsoom, to be reunited with Deja.

 

2012_john_carter_062

 

As the InSight is making its final precarious approach to the Red Planet, I will be roaming alongside John somewhere in Helium, with Whoola zooming back and forth chasing Martian sticks at three hundred miles an hour. Update: Woola has a new friend to play with – InSight has landed!

How about you? Wanna step onto my Spaceship and travel to Barsoom?

 

 

 

Carter to his nephew, Edgar Rice Burrows, as he turns to go into the mausoleum:

Oh, and Ned. Take up a cause, fall in love, write a book.

Carter about to close the mausoleum:

It’s time I went home

 

A Princess of Mars

 

John Carter and a Princess of Mars

85 thousand children and one journalist

 

I was watching a Faux News video of Trump.

Then news reports about the eighty-five thousand entirely preventable deaths of children under five from extreme malnutrition as a result of the US-backed war in Yemen appeared on my timeline.

America First – Fuck the World” was a much-“liked” comment under the video.

That was a response to the US President’s “patriotic” refusal to condemn Saudi Arabia for the killing of Washington Post’s journalist Jamal Khashoggi.

Trump defended and justified his allegiance with the Saudis on the basis of the “billions and billions of dollars” that the US is getting from arms sales to Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s regime and the low Saudi oil prices America is enjoying in return.

 

 

source

 

85 thousand dead children and one murdered journalist. Small price to pay.

The Trump supporters’ comments under the video hailed Trump’s patriotism, amazing intelligence and awesome Christian values, making America Great Again.

They expressed their disgust and hatred of the Press for asking him such “awful” questions.

Trump’s supporters would rather live lobotomized in one man’s no-questions-asked totalitarian Dystopia.

And, Fuck The World. White America (thinks it) will survive Climate Change

85 thousand dead children and one murdered journalist.

Happy Thanksgiving, Trump & Co.

Look at them in the eye and tell them it was worth it.

For your Greatness.

 

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“Revenge” (1990): Eros & Thanatos

Ode to Eros

 

In 1859, French writer and Poet Laureate Frédéric Mistral wrote a poem about two star-crossed lovers in the Occitan language; it’s named after the heroine, Mirèio. Mirèio and humble basket-maker Vincènt are deeply in love but her rich parents disapprove and want to marry her off to a wealthy Provençal landowner. In despair, she runs away from her home on a pilgrimage to Camargue, the city of the Saint Marys of the Sea (Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer). She travels on foot, constantly praying about her forbidden love. The soles of her feet are bleeding. The two lovers had arranged to meet there so she carries on despite the blistering heat. She prays and prays for her parents to relent and allow her to marry her true love. Finally, the patron saints of Provence appear to hallucinating Mirèio, telling her that she and Vincènt will be reunited and forever happy in heaven. Mirèlha left in such a hurry that she had forgotten to bring a hat; she dies from heatstroke, in Vincènt’s arms and under the gaze of her parents.

One hundred and twenty years later, on May 8, 1979, Esquire published the 30-thousand-word novella “Revenge” (“A tale of love and betrayal”) by Jim Harrison. This fatal love story of another Mireya would become the 1990 love-triangle film “Revenge“, directed by Tony Scott, starring Kevin Costner, Madeleine Stowe and Anthony Quinn; the author co-wrote the script. Mireya (“wonder”) was the name of Stowe’s mother. Quinn plays the husband “Tibey” (Tiburon = ”Shark”) Mendez, a Mexican overlord. Costner plays anti-hero Michael “Jay” Cochran, a retired US Navy fighter pilot and tennis hustler who falls for Mireya.

The novel opens with an impressive and typically western, macho, masterful and memorable phrase: “you could not tell if you were a bird descending (and there was a bird descending, a vulture) if the naked man was dead or alive“. Scorching heat is a theme here too, the heat beating down on the human body left to die, the heat of a forbidden passion. Costner became obsessed with the visceral story in 1985, impressed by the “honor code” and violent vengeance it portrays, the lethal coexistence and juxtaposition between the Eros and Death drives; in the New York Times interview, he recalled one sentence in particular that stayed with him: ”There is an impulse for vengeance among certain men south of the border that leaves even the sturdiest Sicilian gasping for fresh air.” Quinn touched on another theme:  ”He [Cochran’s character] doesn’t know that my love for him is because he is my surrogate son. Sometimes we older men  [Quinn was 75 at the time, although his character in the novella was just approaching 60] love a young man and see in him qualities that we had or hoped to have. For my character, there’s great pain in losing the wife, but that pain is not as great as losing the friend.”

Quite revealing about Quinn himself, rather than Harrison’s novella.

He continued:

”I think the man is of another time and his values are of another time. It’s the old country mentality, which also happens to be mine. I think sexual liberation is a lot of garbage. I mean, there’s no code, there’s no honor. It was a question of morality that Tiburon takes the action he does. So that’s why I did the picture, that and the fact it’s a classic, old-fashioned story that could have been done by John Wayne or Gary Cooper. I’m aware that a lot of American women will not understand my behavior, will find it as twisted as all hell. They’ll say: ‘Well, that terrible man, he slices up the girl’s face and then almost kills his friend.’ I’m saying that the man can’t help it; he was born with that morality. I mean, a hunting dog can’t help that he bites.”

So, for Quinn, Tiburon “can’t help” being an asshole – he was “born” with that “morality”, inherently evil… In one scene Mendez throws one of his other valuable possessions (a hunting dog) in the swimming pool, presumably to teach the dog a lesson; and despite the dog just being a dog, by Quinn’s logic, it’s excluded from the actor’s moral defense. It’s “just a dawg”, like the wife is “just a wife”. What’s a woman compared to male bond? (Top Gun, perhaps the most famous of Tony Scott’s movies, is very much a male-bonding tour de force. Worth here to mention Tarantino’s take on it: “It is a story about a man’s struggle with his own homosexuality”, the auteur famously proposed. I was thinking of that, reading Quinn’s interview…).

He further stated ”I’m very happy to be in this picture, because it is probably the last picture I’ll ever do where I get to have a young wife.” In Quinn’s wiki page we read that he told reporters he wanted to play Paul Castellano, the boss of the Gambino family. Castellano inspired the actor because he had had a “thirty-year-old” mistress, which Quinn believed was “a beautiful thing”. (Trump himself could have not said it better). Tony Scott first met the 70+ year old Quinn for lunch at the Bellagio Hotel (in Las Vegas), and he recalled two young women sitting nearby who by the end of the meeting were sitting at Quinn’s table. “When I left I left him with them.” Scott lived in a house that once belonged to John Barrymore, and Quinn shared stories with him of when he stayed in the home’s guest house and threw massive parties. “He said they’d invite all these Busby Berkeley girls up to swim in the pool, and they’d blindfold the mariachi band and do nasty things to the girls in the pool.” Ahhh, the good old days before #MeToo…

In his autobiography, The Original Sin: A Self-Portrait by Anthony Quinn, he revealed himself to be a man who “has difficulty accepting unconditional love (this is the original sin)”. As a Mexican-Irishman who struggled with the death of a young son (just like Onassis, a take on whom he portrayed in The Greek Tycoon) Quinn’s interpretation of Tiburon’s character and of his friendship with Costner’s character as a case of Oedipodean love and betrayal between “father figure” Tiburon Mendez and “surrogate son” Jay Cochran, his emphasis on the pain of  losing Cochran as being greater than the pain of losing Mireya, offer intriguing aspects of the actor, his personality and his approach to the part.

Costner himself, 35 at the time and emerging as ”the new Gary Cooper”, after “intense but understated performances in movies such as No Way Out (another fatal love-triangle film and a great personal favorite – that I hope to blog about at some point) and Field of Dreams”. It was Costner’s passion for the story that finally got the project off the ground – and Tony Scott had an additional, personal motive for directing it, as a man infamously involved in a much-publicized love triangle, a man who understood perfectly the compelling erotic drive in the characters; and “pure cinema” stylist Scott knew more than most just how to portray sex on film, staying on the preciously thin cutting edge of intense desire that is neither vulgar nor anemic and never without danger or personal cost.

I for one am glad that John Huston didn’t get to direct the film and that Jack Nicholson didn’t get Cochran’s part. It might have been a good old-fashioned gritty western but it would have been a very different movie. I can thoroughly appreciate why Costner felt it was a part to die for in a picture that had to be made. It’s one of those Hollywoodianisms that producer Ray Stark wanted to shape the film more to his taste, make it a more muted down affair. It is to Tony Scott‘s credit that he fought tooth and nail to make it what it is: a tough, unforgettable look at a man’s world, at terrible conventions and social mores that people cross at their peril and at the expense of what is natural and valid, our only saving grace, after all: the Eros Principle, the lust for life, life instinct itself and its struggle against death.

 

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Don’t expect to find dithyrambic reviews anywhere – there aren’t any. Revenge tanked at the box office – how could the audiences in America stomach its ambiguity, its boldness, its complexity and its unapologetically sexual, tragic nature, its unresolved, brutal misery, its ending offering no absolution and no hope? It’s not your typical Hollywood movie. The US critics panned it too – praising the stunning visuals but completely rejecting the rest: it had no appeal for anyone who looks for moral justifications in lust and doesn’t find any, it was too brutal for a romance, offered no real catharsis – other than, on the surface, the punishment of the adulteress and the return of the men – both destroyed and reconciled with fate – to their personal hells – where is the triumph in that? Too bloody, too sexual, too uncomfortable and too real…

It’s also very real that there is no love between Hollywood and Costner; the reason, I suspect,  is that he both refused to be controlled and sought control of his own projects, Tom Cruise being another notorious example of that genre that studios and their assorted mouthpieces treat as “irritants” …Revenge was just one of the many targets in the orchestrated barrage of vitriol from (birds-of-a-feather) film critics, in a long series of systematic character assassination attempts aimed at “stars” who, The Industry deems, get too big, too “uppity” and need to be “taken down a notch or two”. I’m sure that if it was anybody else – anybody, just not Costner – the film would have been lauded for its bravery, nominated for awards and filed under “unmissable”…

The studios didn’t think Costner was ready to direct (Dances with Wolves would soon prove them wrong) and although Revenge is visually perhaps the definitive Tony Scott signature film, I suspect it was also very much a Costner film, through his creative involvement in every aspect of the project, the script included (he brought Robert Garland who produced and wrote the screenplay for No Way Out, to work on it) as executive producer; Scott’s and Costner’s storytelling concepts of Revenge were evidently harmonious, became a common vision for the film, and they collaborated again in the release of a punchier, steamier and even more grisly Director’s Cut some seventeen years later, confirming their belief in the validity of the story and of their telling of it. The very dedication of returning to a piece of work after that length of time attests just how much it resonated with its creators. It’s a rare if not unique case of a Director’s cut, very much shorter (by some fifteen minutes) than the original version; and it’s a rare case of a film much better than the book it was based on. Although the script was quite faithful to Harrison’s plot, the author’s Hemingwayesque prose is more about style (arguably racist & even misogynistic) than substance – so the movie is perfectly justified in taking a life of its own, leaving some of the book (such as the dubious ending, of which more below) out of the picture.

And what a picture it is…the movie begins with a foreboding, contrasting visual, a memento mori: the arrogant phallic dominance of a killing machine – the deadly gorgeous military aircraft shape shearing through the sky like a sharp knife, very much à la Top Gun, over a naked man dying in the foreground, and finishes in a crushing, totally unhappy ending. Costner the sleek and handsome US Navy pilot is gradually transformed, reduced to someone who “could not bear the sight of a plane”, a naked, beaten-up near-corpse caked with blood, charred and scarred to the marrow, his attractive face disfigured, surviving only to carry out his revenge, eviscerating a man with glee and relish; he admits that his love for jets ruined his marriage [in the novella it’s “His tour in Laos, among other things (alcohol, womanizing, an incapacity for sitting still”)] although the film does not mention his daughter, that in the book he relinquishes; “Over Laos he took a 57, ejected from his Phantom, leaving a dead navigator, and spent two months with some friendly fishermen in a junk avoiding the Pathet Lao and the Cong. He was essentially antipolitical and now the war only reappeared in nightmares”. So much for the dashing knight in shining armor. He is a cynical survivor, tough-as-old-boots and clueless that an opportunity to redeem himself is just around the corner.

Jay Cochran is forty-one, a farmers’ boy from Indiana who is clever because “he could not bear to be stupid” and likes books; he can recite Lorca’s and Neruda’s poetry in fluent Spanish and is appreciative of Modigliani; he listens to Bach and Debussy, has visited museums and art galleries in Paris and Madrid and knows exactly how engines work. About Eros he remains uninitiated and pedestrian though and not only he is the sinner, the colluding adulterer – his antagonist and friend is “the enemy”: not even a worthy opponent, a respectable gentleman, being Mexican, once a pimp and a drug lord; no wonder there was little empathy for Costner’s unlikely, compromised, ambivalent character among the confused moviegoers.

Tarantino loved the film – its audacity and its raw, sparse, gripping, atmospheric stylishness. There is a purity in Revenge not (unsurprisingly) to be found in Hollywood; it is a love it or hate it case that has earned a cult following – among those who got it and what it was about and how it told the story – trimming all the excess off and leaving only raw bleeding flesh and broken bone. But there is a song in the marrow of those bones, universal, primordial, tragic yet sublime…and it deserves to be heard.

Each main character and each relationship between them commits and is a hubris. From the diametrically opposing states of the protagonist in the first sequences (in control of the flying instrument of Thanatos at the top of the screen and totally powerless, at death’s mercy on the bottom, as the natural world looks dispassionately upon man’s fate through the eyes of a coyote) the setting is of a modern Greek Tragedy on multiple counts: Jay betrays both father figure and friend. Tibey (real name Baldassaro) betrays both his friend, the son he wishes to have and/or to be, his wife’s love and trust and his own arrogant, brutal code. Mireya betrays husband, owner and protector with none other than his own surrogate son and friend.

Jay and Mireya defy the old “natural order of things” (the order that Quinn defends against sexual liberation – the very thing that he himself seems to have been quite keen to exploit and benefit from…); they also defend the real, natural order of things – the Eros Principle. It is the old that ought to die or submit and give way to the young.  It is Eros the primordial all-conquering force, the divine madness that inspires to live or kill and die for. There would be no one alive without lust. There are mimesis and diegesis and Nemesis aplenty in the story. Where is the Catharsis to be found? It’s a tough movie to watch for a thinking viewer who is not just looking for a mindless, entertaining action thriller.

 

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Twenty-seven-year-old Mireya is owned by Tiburon: in his tradition, Saint Paul’s patriarchal dictum of marital order and virtue, the wife is an obedient accessory and decorative commodity, symbolized by Mireya’s white, bridled mare (a white rose, in the book). “The Shark” is used to being obeyed. He earned that place in his world, ever since he was born, dirt poor, and fought, murdered, pimped, robbed and blackmailed all his way up. He will not be challenged or compared – the novel informs us that his wife didn’t have any previous sexual partner other than himself. Of course – second-hand goods, especially women, are worthless to him.

Even the slightest defiance to his power, his honor code and his symbolic name, is punishable by death – or worse, vengeful torture before execution. He is a charmer, hypocritical, veneered, vicious and ruthless. Mireya explains to Jay that marriages are arranged there but she married Tibey because “she was in love with him – all the girls were”: that is the chaste romantic love notion traditionally imprinted upon young women – the kind of romance invented by the male-dominated medieval chivalry, preserving the woman’s “honor” and securing the use of her womb to the sole rightful owner, her husband and master – the notion uninformed by the visitation of almighty Eros himself.

Mireya, who reveals that she had never truly fallen in love before with this sentence, is the real protagonist; she is the apex of the triangle, the one who sets the plot of the tragedy off: she watches Cochran, realizing he is not one of her husband’s sycophantic pets; he is neither ignorant nor an idiot. His sarcastic put down at the mobster who brags about the nine-foot jaguar he killed earns her respect. She is the one who seals everyone’s fate the moment she recognizes her Eros for Jay and decides to pursue him, signifying to him that she is aware and willing.

This is an empowering film for women. It is she who initiates the affair and owns her sexuality, boldly, joyfully in her newly found freedom, with pride and without inhibition. He resists – initially he is reluctant and clearly very aware of “who’s court he’s on”. His words on the telephone to his friend, who is incredulous as Jay “doesn’t fall in love”, are “I’m fucked”. “That bitch in heat has killed you if you don’t go” is the reply – in the book. The film version is more restrained but still, the gravity of the imminent danger is spelled out in no uncertainty.

Mireya’s sensual beauty is exotic to the white North American audiences – Stowe is herself the daughter of a Costa Rican mother of Castilian descent –  she is not, therefore, the virginal blonde blue-eyed angelic girl, after Jesus own image, that often portrays the devoted wife in the Christian tradition, a meek victim of seduction against her better judgment. She owns the temptation. She is it: the defiant seductress, the one who refuses to deny her attraction, the one who does not hesitate to go to Cochran’s beach home and make herself available, show him she is interested.

She is marked by Tibey as a “dirty” sinner early on: “only whores smoke in public” he tells her, with a smothering embrace – a public display of affection and possessiveness. She wears crimson red lipstick and absorbs the abuse with a smile. She is used to his patronizing humiliations. She enjoys her husband’s immense power, influence, wealth and status – why can’t she at least be faithful? It’s the bargain that’s expected from God-fearing wives, in return for their own safety, security and a lavish lifestyle to boot, in her case. Why can’t she just not be greedy, and settle for the luxuries other good little gold diggers can only dream of?

Tiburon Mendez does not want to make a public show of the betrayal – being the cuckolded one is degrading, its so contrary to what he is about, and making it known that he knows it is even more so; but so many of his minions know what’s happening that he can’t ignore it; besides, his lifelong contempt for women since he became a pimp at nineteen dictates that he has to teach the whore a lesson.

Mireya wants a baby but her husband doesn’t want any more children – he had plenty already before she was even born. Mireya is a personification of the life instinct – Mendez is in the service of Thanatos, holding her captive. He bought himself a beautiful trophy, young enough to be his daughter, to arrogantly display and elicit jealousy, projecting his superior prowess and status to and over other men. Her impeccable social acceptance and popularity give him access to the elite circles he had been denied – using her to gain the respectability he craved, paving his way to mingle in the legitimate society and install his political accomplices.

He asks Jay if he finds his wife beautiful and warns him that a woman like that he “would do anything to keep” his own alone. Mendez is a vampire clinging to life by sucking the life out Mireya and everyone else that he can use for his purpose, like his young athletic protégé – but quick to snuff it out from anyone that dares stand in his way. And he doesn’t want his possession’s value diminished – childbearing would ruin Mireya’s figure. That is her declared value for him – an asset, a commodity, an object he has convinced himself he is fond of because his very ownership of her bestows value on her – he is successful, he is rich, he is above the law of ordinary men – plus she’s a pretty, young, popular vessel and the source of envy.

Mendez is angry when one of his prized dogs leaps at the flight jacket he only just got as a gift from Jay. Cochran is repaying him for the lavish present Tibey sent him for his retirement – a set of expensive guns (of course). Tibey grabs the whining dog and tosses him into the pool. “Americans would forgive easily”, he tells a flabbergasted Cochran “but a dog without discipline…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but the implication is clear. He forced an arranged marriage onto Mireya – musing that marrying her mother would have probably been wiser – and she (a bitch like all women) is not allowed to seek her own fulfillment, satisfaction and happiness. That’s the price she had to pay for marrying up – into power, money, success.

 

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Instincts take over and Mireya claims Cochran before he claims her. There is no question who falls in love and lust first. It’s Eve who offers the fruit of knowledge to her chosen one. Cochran soon sheds his cynicism and takes it. After the scene at his beach house – the tender gesture of touching and removing a wet strand of hair from her face as it’s raining, not quite managing it as his fingers are clumsy: he is visibly affected by the realization that is dawning on him: he has fallen, this is it and he’s powerless against it – they meet at the party Mendez is throwing at his hacienda on the occasion of a newly installed puppet politician. Mireya follows Jay into a cloakroom. She is not timid. Her mind’s made up. He locks the door as Mendez henchman Cezar is right outside looking everywhere for them.

It’s a beautifully filmed lovemaking scene, depicting a crescendo of erotic passion and sexual longing absolutely essential to the story. Halfway Mireya slaps Jay and spits on him: they both shed civility, shame and fear, animal nature taking over, raw want and hungry desire unleashed. She is startled by the intensity of her own need to have him, testing her lover – and he does not retreat: he throws a heap of jackets from a hanger onto the floor and takes her there. He passed the test. The tame inhibited beast gone, he is her young lion and has earned the right to what she’s offered. They seal their tryst in full knowledge of the danger, right under her husband’s own roof. They have entered the lovers’ realm, the absence is no more. Eros’ battle, his eternal dance with Thanatos has been joined.

 

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The film picks up pace. They arrange to go to Cochran’s cabin, near Douglas, a border town, for a week, when Mendez is away. Mireya asks a friend in Miami to cover up for her, while Tibey is eavesdropping on the phone call. He visits Jay and asks him to fly him to his business trip. He refuses, politely, nervously yet firmly. Mireya is driven to the airport in her husband’s limo and he kisses her goodbye (he fucked her the night before, we learn in the book). Her lover arrives and asks her if she has second thoughts: she denies it by asking him to kiss her and they leave on his jeep for their getaway. There are more sexually explicit scenes in the car (some of the most erotic ever in mainstream film) and at a lake on the way to the mountain cabin. They are carefree in their shared yearning for a few hours. Then Tibey and his henchmen break in. A shotgun blasts Cochran’s dog dead. “Faithless whore!” Mendez shouts slapping Mireya. Cochran is brutally beaten and forced to watch “what happens to whores,” as Tibey demands: “your whore”, he adds, as The Shark himself slices Mireya’s face with a knife. She is forced to watch Tibey’s men punch and kick Cochran senseless.

“You want to fuck; you will be fucked twenty times a day until you die” says Mendez to his discarded possession; willingly “soiled” by another man, the object has lost all value for him; they set fire to the cabin; Mireya is given a drug injection; they toss Jay’s unconscious body out in the desert and deliver Mireya to a whorehouse, to be drugged, abused and relegated to “common use” on a daily basis. She clings to Jay’s Navy dog tag that she clutched into her hand during the beating. Meanwhile, dying Cochran is spotted and saved by a Mexican and his daughter, revisiting the opening sequence of the film. He is slowly nursed back to health. He returns to the burnt ruins to take the money he had stashed under the floorboards. His rescuer drives him to town and gives him a knife to “cut the balls off your enemy”. He encounters a sick Texan delivering a horse, who offers Jay a ride in his car. Inside a cantina, Jay sees Mendez’ heavy who had thrashed him; he quickly fulfills his Mexican savior’s wishful prophecy: follows him into the men’s room, guts him and cuts his throat.

The trader sells the horse to one of Tibey’s guests, who recognizes Cochran. As Jay is driving the car and horsebox, he realizes the Texan is dead and buries him in the desert. He drives to a motel, where he runs across Amador, the brother-in-law of the Mexican who’d saved him. Amador and Ignacio have their own scores to settle with Mendez (another woman that was killed) and are willing to help. A signer who takes a shine on Cochran assists them in capturing another of Tibey’s men and force him to reveal what whorehouse Miryea is held at. At the brothel the madame tells Jay Mireya was “very popular”. He hits her but she doesn’t know where Mireya had been taken. Cochran realizes he has to find out from Mendez himself.

They ambush Tibey and his bodyguard on a morning horseback trail. Amador and Ignacio shoot the other man dead, as Jay and Mendez face off. “Where is she,” he asks, but Tiburon requests his apology for “having stolen his wife”. Jay lowers his gun, gives the man what he asked for; Mendez in return tells him she is held at a convent. Cochran arrives at the monastery as Mireya is dying. He tells her he loves her, kissing her; she smiles as she opens her eyes and sees him. She tries to hide the nasty scar on her face but he pulls her hand away; she asks him to take her outside. He carries her outdoors and she whispers that she loves him, moments before she dies in his arms.

The end titles roll.

 

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The movie’s finale is of bitter irony and utter despair. Everyone has lost. Mendez  is last seen clinging on to his twisted honor code, defying the natural law and human morality, deprived of compassion, unlike what even the roaming coyotes on the hills know: when a younger challenger, fitter for survival, arrives to stake his claim on life and the right to love and happiness, the decent thing to do is admit defeat and give the friend and the loved one (if you ever truly cared for them) your blessing, or at least let them go without harm, retaining – or reclaiming – some basic dignity and respect. Quinn’s take on his character is stripped bare and found to be false and devoid of value – from a humanly ethical or purely evolutionary point of view both.

Eros defeated by Thanatos – but is it? Doesn’t Eros command his own timeline, a spacetime where a single moment of heavenly joy is worth -and lasts- an eternity? There is a layer of triumph against adversity and moral decay after all in the story (not to be found in the novella, however, where the men unite over Mireya’s grave, Cochran betraying her memory by accepting that Mendez has served his punishment, rendering her death pointless): in the film, Cochran has redeemed himself (literally and figuratively purged in the fire and in Erotic flames) – he did what he did for love, in a state of genuine divine madness and in defense of the Eros Principle. He did not confront Mendez until he absolutely had to, in order to find the woman and save her. Mireya died loving him back and knowing he truly loved her, like Mistral’s Mirèio, but with one very critical, defining difference: not hoping for godly redemption in some afterlife, but unapologetically claiming her own time, her own desires, her own personhood in her own life and by her own actions.

She and he had both admirably shared a few hours of euphoric ecstasy, becoming one and finding freedom, defying danger and the corrupt norms of society; denying civilization the demand it had thought it could place upon them: reclaiming their basic right to choose freely whom they loved, above and beyond their own self-interest and the threats of a monstrous, defunct concept of morality. Following their very real conviction and animal instincts unconditionally, stripping back to the bare essentials of what it means to be alive and a sentient being with free will, with integrity and courage, to the end. Any end being better, after all, than mere survival in a cage, as the film so uncompromisingly and powerfully illustrates; each choosing their own consensual self-sacrifice (like wild things do when they are cornered), maturely accepting the consequence rather than utter betrayal of themselves and each other, having been afforded the rare grace and privilege to find one another among billions of strangers.

Which is more than most of us can ever hope for the chance to experience in our lifetimes.

The film is a genuine powerhouse despite the attempts of Hollywoodian status quo to reign it in and sell a different, prudish message. It runs off to its own conclusion and truth. And, even more preciously and rarely, the movie manages to become quite different than the novella it was based on: it rises above Jim Harrison’s male chauvinist agenda and machismo, telling its own story beautifully, purely and defiantly. It’s as if the movie subverted the story’s original author, becoming Mireya’s own: a vulnerable yet powerful wonder, the song of a woman’s soul; is it the director’s accomplishment, is it Costner’s and Stowe’s input – we just don’t know how much each contributed, but what is revealed before the viewer and what matters is that a woman who was subdued and abused, tamed and sentenced to languish in a pet zoo, inside a gilded cage, was freed and realized as a person by her own instincts and her own capacity to seek and follow her heart and by her lover’s ability to redeem his humanity and follow his own, true to his nature as man and human, not a misogynist monstrosity.

This is one of my fondest and most troubled experiences in the vast universe of cinematic art, as I am truly humbled by my own unworthiness to be blessed as Mireya and Jay have. If the reader had not yet seen it, I would urge you to watch the film and give yourselves over to it, open your eyes, ears and hearts to its harsh yet rewarding beauty, power and sublimity.

 

 

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