Child Rape in Hollywood

Weinstein and Epstein are just the ones who got caught  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

Harvey Weinstein is on trial in LA this week, and apparently his lawyers are worth the money. His appetites were legendary and his requirements were well known. Most paid the price. Which is why the plaintiffs are coming off as colluding. They traded sex for fame.

Widely-rumoured to have been a yacht girl

A few bloggers have been chipping away at Dark Hollywood, releasing data, offering theories; some are well educated and have real reporting skills. They are dogged and careful. They drip out the horrifying stories, hidden in fashion sites, or in brief TikToks, their evidence gathered from drivers, staff, servers and cleaners. Reality is far darker than even Epstein and Maxwell’s blackmail and sexual trafficking. New media is the change agent.

Maxwell and Epstein’s clients are still at large, still hungry. And many of them picking up the torch are in Hollywood, with a million victims begging, hungry for fame. They and their appetites who are the reason for the breakdown in film and television. Why every film or series is dark to the point of Satanic, why every drama is about violent death, and every year, the viewer has his adrenalin spiked and spiked again. Film and premium television have become fear porn, and many of us – hundreds of millions - watch it every night before we go to bed. What is that doing to us, to our bodies, our emotions, our culture?

It's not good.

I took a break from television and film for more than a year, then signed onto Netflix to watch the end of Ozark, which is a brilliant piece of work, plausible, linked to the real world, real acting, real writing. But for days afterwards, I was depressed way beyond any normal passing sadness, until I realized that my emotions, my lizard self, had been triggered into terror by the brutal killings, the horror of the lives I was watching.

And Ozark is the most coherent of the terrible things on Netflix, Prime and HBO. Start anything, and within minutes, you are watching an appalling act of violence, cruelty as common human discourse, sex as exploitation and nothing else. For kids, a lot of pop music now is violent, when not promoting a disgusting sexuality. Even polite BBC dramas are focused around brutal, violent death.

Who is greenlighting this stuff? Who decided that this was what we wanted to see? Who figured out that adrenalin and terror would sell, and upping the terror was the key to success?

How much do you know about yachting? Or the private rape rooms at Disney parties? Or how music stars like Dua Lipo are groomed for years, then sprung into stardom?

Let’s take each in order. Yachting is how very young movie stars make real money. Almost every single one of them has done it. It’s the only way they can pay for their lives in Hollywood.

Most of these girls were so beautiful they were sexualized early. The moment they have a bit of fame, they turn to yachting where they can make a few million every summer. Meghan Markle, Selena Gomez, Hailey Bieber, Bella Hadid, all participated, were invited to lavish yachts where they sleep with billionaires, industry executives, and are paid six figures per night. Howie Mandel’s wife is said to have supplied them out of the cast of Deal or No Deal. Ariana Grande cancelled a concert because a yachting gig would pay her more.

The much-altered Bella Hadid with a yachtsman

Moving onto the companies that hire thousands of children like Disney and Nickelodean, the rumors are in the thousands, the tens of thousands. Why do young women like Miley Cyrus hyper-sexualize themselves? What happened to Lindsay Lohan’s extraordinary talent? Why is Britney child-like and regressed?

Why do Selena, Justin Bieber, Demi Lovato all have severe emotional problems? Apparently if Disney stars went to a beach picnic, what they bonded about is how they were raped and by whom. Why do you think Miley Cyrus hates Disney, and would never return, that her persona “Hannah is dead” to her? Why is she alienated from her parents, like so many of the above? Because their parents let it happen. All those kids are broken, were broken, when they were in their early teens.

At Disney’s annual parties, at the mansion, the top floor was heavily guarded because those rooms were called rape rooms. The sex was more or less consensual, the girls and boys believed it was a condition of employment. They were called rape rooms, since most sent up those stairs, were underage.

At the door, the Disney actresses were told to pick their preference:

“Are you open to women? Men? Both?” That, it was explained, was their only choice.

According to servers at these parties, the attendees are executives at huge corporations, filthy rich, incredibly successful, managing billion dollar companies. They are so rich and powerful that “they do the most inhumane things to feel some sort of rush, the goal is the adrenaline. It’s the power over a child, that makes them feel unstoppable”.

The rape rooms at Disney parties are well known. Buying a young star’s virginity for huge money is better than a limited edition Ferrari. Anyone can buy that.

This is the kind of blind that is typically released by victims.

These are the girls our daughters and granddaughters idolize.

The final abomination is grooming. A young talent comes to Hollywood, she is seen as a likely contender, a wealthy impresario picks her up and sends her around to have sex with his friends, and anyone who would be likely to help her out. They work with her on her looks, voice, styling, and eventually, after years of forced prostitution, she is given a chance with all the bells and whistles.

Fall out of line, like Kanye West, and this is the kind of message you get, allegedly sent to Kanye by his former personal trainer.

The burden that lies on the populists next Tuesday is larger than they know. The grooming of children in schools is merely the beginning. What I describe above waits seething under the surface. It will blight their childrens’ lives. It is full-on Satanic.

If the producers of our popular culture are as corrupt and evil as I describe, their power must be limited. I apologize for the rawness of this, but no one is writing about it in the mainstream. It is hard to look at, but it must become common knowledge. It is the only way it can be stopped.

You’re a free subscriber to Welcome to Absurdistan . For the full experience, become a paid subscriber.

Upgrade to paid

 
Like
Comment
Share
 

© 2022 Elizabeth Nickson
548 Market Street PMB 72296, San Francisco, CA 94104
Unsubscribe

Get the appStart writing

Remembering a great friend of the 100th & 442: Earl Finch


100th Infantry Battalion Veterans

Education Center

Earl Finch

The One Man U.S.O.

Earl Finch 442nd Regimental Combat Team Archives

Earl Finch [442nd Regimental Combat Team Archives]

Earl Finch met his first Japanese American G.I. in the summer of 1943. He had closed his Hattiesburg, Mississippi store at the end of the day and was walking to his car, when he noticed several small men wearing ill-fitting American uniforms. He approached one of the men, Richard Chinen, who was peering through a store window. “Welcome, soldier,” said Finch, whose greeting soon included an invitation for dinner.

Finch was the proprietor of the Earl Finch Company, which offered “Work Clothes, Army and Navy Goods, Sporting Goods” to thousands of American soldiers who trained at nearby Camp Shelby. While only 27 years old, he was an experienced and accomplished businessman, having had to leave school at age 10 to help support his family. In addition to the store, Finch owned a bowling alley and second-hand furniture store, but he wasn’t a wealthy man. Content to live with his aging parents in the southern Mississippi town of 25,000, he was shy, with few friends. Finch, a bachelor, didn’t drink or smoke and had never traveled farther than 100 miles from home.

Finch had tried to volunteer for the U.S. Army but was rejected because of a heart ailment. When his younger brother, Roy, was inducted and shipped out, Finch decided that his patriotic duty was to offer hospitality to soldiers. Reasoning that foreign troops were in the most need of friendship, Finch entertained Chinese airmen and French and British seamen in New Orleans on several occasions.

Finch’s mother, Aloise, was partially paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair. Nonetheless, when her son arrived home with his guests, she prepared a hearty Southern meal. In their conversation that evening, Chinen explained to Finch that they were from Hawaii and had volunteered for the segregated 442nd Regimental Combat Team to prove their loyalty to the United States. (Chinen would later be reassigned to the 100th Infantry Battalion to help replenish its depleted ranks.)

In the past, Finch had invited soldiers to his home, but never saw them again. Therefore, he was pleasantly surprised to return the next afternoon and discover the Hawaii boys on his porch talking and laughing with his mother. In addition, the men had purchased roses for her in appreciation for the previous night’s hospitality. The small token of gratitude impressed Finch immensely. Finch soon recognized that more than any other group of soldiers he had encountered, these Nisei (“second generation” in Japanese), children of Japanese immigrants, appreciated the democratic values they were fighting for. Finch committed himself to helping the young Nisei gain acceptance in his hometown.

Mr. Aloha

The Finch home was too small to accommodate more than a few soldiers, so he purchased a 350-acre ranch outside of Hattiesburg. At first, Finch limited his generosity to the Hawaii soldiers, reasoning that they were the farthest from home. He soon learned, however, that mainland Nisei carried an additional burden: They had volunteered directly from U.S. internment camps, leaving their parents and siblings still unjustly confined behind barbed wire. Most of them had little or no money. Over the next few months, Finch entertained several thousand soldiers—from both Hawaii and the mainland, staging several large events at his ranch such as barbecues, watermelon picnics and even a rodeo to which he invited 600 soldiers.

To make them feel at home, Finch imported Japanese food products like shoyu, bamboo shoots, tofu and Asian vegetables from Chinese restaurants in Chicago and New York. He imported mangoes from Bermuda and pineapples from Cuba. He even butchered a cow so that the soldiers could enjoy a meal of sukiyaki.

In addition, although Finch did not have a personal interest in sports, he became deeply involved with various athletic programs because the 422nd included some of the best athletes in the country. Finch was the team sponsor of the 442nd team that won the Camp Shelby baseball championship. When Finch heard the Southern Amateur Athletic Union Swimming Championships were being held in New Orleans, he arranged for ten Nisei swimmers to compete in the event. He rented a truck and made arrangements for the team to practice at the swimming pool of nearby University of Southern Mississippi. He paid for the train fare as well as their stay at the posh Roosevelt Hotel. Although they were out of shape, the Nisei swimmers dominated the best Southern swimmers to win the team title.

Finch was also among the individuals who helped secure the location for a separate club which would serve the Nisei soldiers. The “Aloha” USO in Hattiesburg was opened and operated by the wives of several soldiers who had relocated there. Finch was at the club practically every day and received some 200 letters per week there from Nisei soldiers, their families and friends. The correspondence often included small donations to help finance his charitable activities.

Soldiers’ Sacrifice

By September 1944, the soldiers of the 100th Infantry Battalion had entered combat, suffering heavy casualties in the Italian campaign. The following June, the 442nd RCT joined the 100th in combat.  Finch, who had become the executor for some 1,500 wills, sadly received death notifications of his friends. He visited many of the grieving, Issei (first generation) parents in internment camps. (At war’s end, Finch would also assist former internees returning to the West Coast, helping them find jobs or giving them loans to relocate and start businesses of their own.) To those he could not meet, he sent messages and flowers. Because of the high casualty rates for both the 100th and the 442nd, in one year, Finch traveled some 75,000 miles across the nation, visiting soldiers recovering from their wounds and their parents.

Among the many whom Finch called upon was 26-year-old First Lieutenant Spark M. Matsunaga of the 100th, who was recuperating from his injuries at Fort Snelling, Minnesota. “As soon as he heard that I and several other wounded officers were there, he came up from Mississippi to visit us,” Matsunaga recounted years later when he was a U.S. Senator.

Earl Finch with Shelby Serenaders 442nd Regimental Combat Team Archives

Earl Finch with Shelby Serenaders [442nd Regimental Combat Team Archives]

As the casualties of the 100th increased, replacements had been sent from the 1st Battalion of the 442nd.  By the time the regiment left for Europe, the remaining men in the 1st Battalion stayed to help train the new waves of Nisei recruits. To lift morale, Finch organized the Shelby Serenaders, a Hawaiian music group. According to Claude Takekawa of the 442nd, Finch simply came into their barracks one day and asked for volunteers. “We picked up some friends and he came back about a week later and we auditioned for him,” said Takekawa. “He said, ‘Okay that’s pretty good.’ He went to the battalion commander and he got us a ten-day furlough. We went to New York and he put us up at the Waldorf Astoria, the best hotel over there. Can you imagine?”

With ukuleles, bass, and hula dancer (Ken Okamoto of the 442nd performed in a grass skirt), the Shelby Serenaders entertained the wounded at the Halloran General Hospital in New York. On August 12, 1944, they held a second performance at the Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, D.C. Many patients were members of the 100th/442nd. Finch decided to sponsor a tour of the band, which ultimately traveled some 35,000 miles and performed for approximately 25,000 wounded soldiers in hospitals around the country.

In January 1945, Finch reserved the ballroom at the Hotel Astor in New York and threw a huge bash with Hawaiian music and hula for 150 returning soldiers. The event prompted The New York World-Telegram to dub Finch a “One Man USO.” In June, Finch threw another party in Chicago, inviting Nisei veterans from hospitals in Chicago, Michigan and Utah. A month earlier, Germany had surrendered, ending the war in Europe.

Earl Finch with a key to the city of Honolulu 442nd Regimental Combat Team Archives

Earl Finch with a key to the city of Honolulu [442nd Regimental Combat Team Archives]

On March 5, 1946, Finch visited Honolulu and was greeted with the largest and warmest reception ever given to a private citizen in the history of Hawaii. For 25 days, island families toasted their friend from Hattiesburg. In the three months following his Hawaii visit, Finch visited an additional 3,000 hospitalized Nisei soldiers in Philadelphia, New York, and Chicago. Despite his busy schedule, Finch was in the nation’s capitol on July 15, 1946, when the 100th/442nd received the Presidential Unit Citation from President Harry S. Truman.

“When the ‘Go For Broke’ outfit marched to the White House . . . Mr. Finch was there,” recounted 442nd veteran Larry Sakamoto. “He had tears in his eyes. You could tell he was the proudest person on the earth.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In August 1965, Finch died of a heart attack. His big, generous heart, which had given so much to so many, failed him after only 49 years. The 442nd Veterans Club handled all the funeral arrangements, and more than 300 friends attended a Central Union Church service conducted by former 100th chaplain Israel Yost and 442nd chaplains Masao Yamada and Hiro Higuchi.

Finch was buried at Diamond Head Memorial Park on August 25, 1965. His headstone, a simple bronze plaque, only lists his name and the dates of his birth and death. Missing are his countless acts of kindness and the thousands of lives that he touched. But Earl Finch, who just wanted to be a good friend, would have had it no other way.

 

         

 

Longevity Under Adversity

Today's selection -- from Elderflora: A Modern History of Ancient Trees by Jared Farmer. There are bristlecone pine trees estimated to be over 4,000 years old, making them older than California’s giant sequoias:
 
"In January 1956, the NSF awards [Edmund] Schulman a three-year grant to fur­ther his investigation into longevity under adversity. At last, he has fund­ing to hire his own full-time assistant. He sees the summit in his mind: a definitive tree-ring survey of his model species in its model location. He types a letter to National Geographic, pitching an article on 'Methuselah pines.' My study is comparable in scientific importance to Douglass's 1929 article on the dating of Puebloan ruins, he states matter-of-factly. An editor responds: The magazine might be interested, but only if your work could be presented in a way that appeals to 2.1 million laymen. If not, the magazine could make room for a 'filler' piece called 'The World's Oldest Trees' that covers sequoia, too. Readers like big old trees.

"In June, Edmund embarks upon his life's most important fieldwork. He's tempting fate at high altitude: his doctor has ordered him to stay home. Alsie, who suffers from atrial fibrillation, chooses not to come along. I'll be out of touch for weeks, he writes his brother, after scold­ing him for keeping him in the dark about the latest family crisis. In an emergency, he says, you can probably reach me through the Navy station. 'Big things are afoot.'


 
"Schulman doesn't get carried away like Humboldt. He knows the Pa­triarch and its largish neighbors aren't that old -- relatively speaking­ -- just lucky. Their habitat, though harsh, is slightly better than that of others in the Whites. To find the oldest bristlecones, Schulman seeks out steeper, looser, drier slopes. He finds strange pines whose trunks grow as slabs instead of rounds. Sustained by a single strip of bark, such a tree grows horizontally more than vertically, and ever so slowly. Its growth rings are infinitesimal. It rakes all his strength to crank his borer through the perdurable wood.

"In his first NSF summer, to his amazement and delight, Schulman 'hits the pith' of three pines older than 4,000 years, all of them con­venient to the military road. He names them, in order of age, Alpha, Beta, Gamma. To build an error-free cross-dated composite chronology for the locale -- for in the idealized world of tree-ring science, there are absolute dates or no dates -- Schulman decides he needs a complete slab. He chooses to sacrifice Alpha. He returns to LA, buys a two-man cross­cut saw, and brings along his teenage nephew and Frits Went to be the muscle. They drive in the dark to avoid overheating the Studebaker. The nephew sits in back while Ed and Frits talk science all night. In the glar­ing light of day, Ed shoots Kodaks of the cutting. Alpha's demise fails to make an impression on the sixteen-year-old, whose uncle conceals the weight of their deed.

"In late September, once Schulman has counted and recounted every ring on the polished slab, the press office at the university announces, 'UA Finds Oldest Living Thing.' They say nothing about the thing being dead. Dr. Schulman has also, they crow, debunked the antiquity of El Arbol del Tule in Oaxaca. Newspapers across the United States pick up the press release, which includes a blurb on the utility of tree rings for meteorological 'backcasting.' It helps that 1956 is a bad drought year. The Office of the President, delighted with the publicity, congratulates Schulman personally.

"Not everyone is happy that dwarf pines have pulled rank on giant se­quoias. The San Francisco Chronicle runs a snarky, casually racist opinion. Ancient bristlecones look 'terrible-half-dead, with little if any foliage, warped and writhing roots, and twisted, stubby branches.' Schulman's bristlecone stand compares to a redwood forest 'as an Indian shell mound does to the Cathedral of Cologne.' At least it's still in California.

"The formal announcement of the discovery -- again without acknowl­edgment of arboricide -- appears simultaneously in Schulman's Dendro­climatic Changes in Semiarid America. This magnum opus, long in the making, contains analyses of one-third of a million rings. The bristlecone data is so new that it appears as 'Appendix C: Millennia-Old Pine Trees Sampled in 1954 and 1955.' In the acknowledgments to this technical volume, full of standard deviation calculations, correlation coefficients, and hand-drawn graphs, Edmund says his 'indebtedness to Alsie' is 'in­deed great.' He thanks her for seventeen years of discussing 'so many research problems.'

"Publicity requests come thick and fast that fall. National Geographic is suddenly very interested. They'll send a photographer as soon as he drafts a story. In the meantime, Schulman makes the two-day drive back to the Whites to meet a cameraman from Life, the other leading pictorial mag­azine. He poses for a series of black-and-white shots. In one, he stands heroically, wearing a straw fedora, while screwing an extra-long incre­ment borer into a hulk of a pine. In another, hat off, Schulman crouches at the remains of Pine Alpha, touching the stump with both hands, with the High Sierra in the background. Uncharacteristically, he looks happy. Life doesn't include either portrait in its brief article, 'The Oldest Thing Alive,' which reassures readers that cores can be taken without harming the tree. Only a 'pinprick,' Schulman tells Tucson's evening paper."

Elderflora: A Modern History of Ancient Trees
 
author: Jared Farmer  
title: Elderflora: A Modern History of Ancient Trees  
publisher: Basic Books  
date: Copyright 2022 by Jared Farmer  
page(s): 242-244  

 

He Rides Again

From my sister:

I am personally of the opinion that all saxophone, accordion, and harmonica players should be consigned to the Lake of Fire, but I will have to admit that this man's selection of composers is impeccable. cby



Can Hollywood Fix Hollywood?

Their Satanic Majesties

Can Hollywood Fix Hollywood?

OCT 28
 


▷  LISTEN


 

Just when the super-culture thought it had found another cancelling to prance around, and all the celebrities could call forth their noble selves on daytime TV, and affirm their solidarity to an oppressed people – this time the Jews in Hollywood – and failing corporations could attempt to declare significance, and they could all cancel a black man and dance on his grave for daring to say what no one must ever ever say. Which he proved by saying it…... except… turns out no one cares.

Of course some do. The self-selected Guardians of the Culture, the elderly, the Karens, the hall monitors. But no one cares what they think anymore, in fact, they anti-care. If the Karens care, everyone elects to love what they hate.

No one cares about ghoulish celebrities like Jamie Lee Curtis and what she thinks (Ye’s children should be taken away), no one cares about Adidas which lost 69% of its stock price this year, no one has cared about Gap for almost two decades, and the fashion girlies are saying Balenciaga has gone off the boil, and no true fashion mom should buy it.



No one cares what Netflix thinks, or the record companies, or any of the arenas. They are just warehouses for official culture and official culture is dying. Fast. Very very fast.



On TikTok over the last couple of weeks, a quasi-celebrity, a loud mouth Housewife and Skinny Girl called Bethany Frankel —who reviews skin care products and issues her proclamations in a loud, raw voice from her rich girl house —decided to send a cease and desist to a nobody called Meredith with a fraction of Bethany’s audience. Meredith, who lives alone and friendless in LA  - she moved just before the pandemic – posts, unadorned, two or three times a day and has settled on mocking the endless “products” of celebrities who seem to all of a sudden have profound feelings about skin care. Why, she asks, must these people constantly shove themselves into our faces?  Don’t they have enough money? Why is Brad Pitt selling face creams he “invented”? Wtf is Kim Kardashian doing selling concrete bathroom products? Doesn’t she have enough stuff? How environmental are CONCRETE BATHROOM ACCESSORIES? And so on. At one point, she tweaked the nose of said Bethany Frankel who then sent her the cease and desist letter, demanding that Meredith remove all TikTok videos that criticize Frankel.

All hell broke loose. EVERYONE and we are talking millions of people - sided with Meredith. Meredith became so insta-famous, she made it onto Page Six. She gained many more tens of thousands of followers. People declared themselves, Team Meredith, Black and white, old and young, male, female and indeterminate. Bethany’s million subscriber engagement dropped to 3%, which means she can flail around for a while, but she’s basically done.



Meredith the Bethany-killer

And then the movement morphed into “No more celebrities on TikTok”. All the creators decided that celebrities were just coming around to get more attention and sell more crap.

“TikTok is OURS” they declared. “Bugger off.”

And finally…

“Celebrities are trash. We are sick of them. Don’t go showing your face around here. This is our neighborhood, and you all don’t need any more money.”

Then, all of a sudden, Kanye was being dumped by the evil and poisonous corporations that have destroyed the world. Everyone declared themselves to be on Team Ye. Even if they never bought anything from Ye before, they sure as hell would now. And then, analysis cropped up that Ye had brilliantly separated himself from these rapacious mega-corporations without two decades of lawsuits, meaning he could now make clothes and shoes and records and take all the money himself.

Which, according to TikTok (which has its own collective intelligence) was the point he was trying to make. Blacks on TikTok explained that of course the monster fleecers in Hollywood (who are not all Jewish) have been especially vile to Blacks because they were the most vulnerable, and comic after rapper after actor has been used, raped of their money and discarded. Dave Chappelle walking away from $50 million dollars is cited. Prince changing his name so he could get out from under his contract. The tragedy that was Michael Jackson, condemned to dance until he burned from the inside out, consuming himself.

And then people started posting lists of celebrities and CEOs that had visited Epstein’s island, many of whom had condemned Ye.

This happened very very fast. And it was riveting. Much better than anything else on any streaming service. Which I, a TV addict, can’t watch for more than 3 minutes.

Let’s all admit the product out of Hollywood is utter crap. Premium TV was good ten or fifteen years ago, but now it’s all woke, fake-diverse, super-violent and disconnected from any recognizable reality. When 400,000 subscribers dumped Netflix last year, they said they thought woke entertainment was annoying af and they weren’t going to pay for it. Plus it was all too violent, and vulgar.

Frankly if I never see another “famous” actor writhing and gape-mouthed sucking face with another “famous” gape-mouthed actor it will be too soon. Gahh, it’s disgusting. Where is the shudder emoji when you need it?

The two biggest products of this splendid year we are all having, are spin offs. One from LOTR (Lord of the Rings) and another from Game of Thrones, or GOT. You have to scrape the bottom of the barrel to find words sufficient to describe the acute terribleness of these shows.

They have all the flaws of excessive violence and repulsive sexual writhing. And they are woke, so the Hobbits are now Black hippies, and  GOT — which is based on medieval English history, specifically Foundation, by Peter Ackryod —is now set in some nether pre-history bearing no resemblance to any place or time. If you read Ackryod, you’ll understand where the ideas, characters, geography and violence in GOT originated. But House of the Dragon has Black kings, where no Blacks were seen much less elevated to Kingship in Britain in 500 AD or 500 BC or wherever this is supposed to be set. The story is not “placed”. It has no geography, no language, no cultural resonance, it’s just bodies and blood. What this alteration does is trivialize the depths, the deep and profound resonance of GOT, because all the events in Foundation were very very very specific to British culture and the further away you get from the … foundation, the more meaningless the new story becomes. GOT, the original, was drawn from a novel series labored over for more than a decade, carefully constructed and fully imagined. House of the Dragon is Hollywood garbage written by catastrophically under-educated greed heads.

So we are sticking around for the violence and writhing. And the wokery and the diversity.

Except no one is sticking around.

Even possibly worse, the heroines of each abomination are skinny blond Karens who judge everything and who are always always whining. As one reviewer said of Amazon’s LOTR spin off, all the dialogue, all the dialogue, is bickering and quarrelling.

Our new cultural heroine is an over-privileged, skinny blond always taking everyone’s inventory and getting up in their grill.

It is insupportable. Especially when it comes to LOTR, which is a beloved classic and one of the crowning achievements of British literature. It is profoundly embedded in specificity, in the pre-Christian religions of Briton, the waves of migration, the battles between sharply delineated tribes, and fundamentally embedded in the growth of early Christianity, its coming to dominance and its defeat of the paganism of the old world.

That’s gone.

I won’t even go into the abomination that is the Netflix version of Jane Austen’s classic, Persuasion. It has a 1.9 audience rating it’s so woke and diverse and absolutely terrible.

There is another giant shark lurking under the surface that explicates a great deal more of this. So, more later.

Thanks to all the new subscribers. And if you have been here a while, why not become an annual subscriber? I charge the minimum Substack allows, on the grounds that you are probably reading a lot and therefore I’m trying to save you money. I’m probably one of the broadest analysts out there, in terms of what I can cover and not necessarily shallow, I do know two subjects in considerable depth, the environmental catastrophe being one of them. I was trained at the old Time Magazine before it went sideways, and have written for Harper’s Magazine, Time, Life, the Telegraph, the Guardian, the Independent, the Globe and Mail, Vogue, Tatler, the National Post, Bloomsbury, Knopf Canada and Harper Collins US.

There has been back and forth nastiness between Blacks and Jews in Hollywood for decades. Of course all the people that run that asylum are not Jewish, they are ethnically diverse. BUT, if one were to use Ibram X Kendi’s twisted and racist counting method, the Jewish people would be found to be substantially over-represented. It is my belief that Ye was attacking the cabal of thugs that historically have preyed on Black artists, not necessarily Jewish people as a people. If you hate “Jews”, you are a primitive, and Kanye West is not that.

The near crash of Air Astana Flight 1388

https://admiralcloudberg.medium.com/flying-the-unflyable-the-near-crash-of-air-astana-flight-1388-88878e2eb3c4

On October 17th, technicians completed the replacement of the cables with carbon steel versions. Following proper procedure, they replaced each cable one at a time, ensuring that the existing configuration was maintained — only, that configuration was wrong, and nobody noticed.

Unaware that their aircraft was dangerously unairworthy, the pilots taxied to the runway and took off normally at 13:31, climbing away into the dense rainclouds which blanketed the airport. They had no idea that they were about to be thrust into one of the most dramatic and lengthy in-flight emergencies in recent memory.



The Transformations of John Donne

Today's selection -- from Super-Infinite: The Transformations of John Donne by Katherine Rundell. John Donne (1572 – 1631) was a celebrated English metaphysical poet who served as a soldier and as dean of St. Paul's Cathedral in London, where he was known for his sermons. He lived a life often filled with horror:
 
"Sometime religious outsider and social disaster, sometime celebrity preacher and establishment darling, John Donne is incapable of being just one thing. He reimagined and re­invented himself, over and over: he was a poet, lover, essay­ist, lawyer, pirate, recusant, preacher, satirist, politician, courtier, chaplain to the King, dean of the finest cathedral London. It's traditional to imagine two Donnes -- Jack Donne, the youthful rake, and Dr Donne, the older, wiser priest, a split Donne himself imagined in a letter to a friend -- but he was infinitely more various and unpredictable than that.

"Donne loved the trans- prefix: it's scattered everywhere across his writing -- 'transpose', 'translate', 'transport', 'transubstantiate'. In this Latin preposition -- 'across, to the other side of, over, beyond' -- he saw both the chaos and potential of us. We are, he believed, creatures born transformable. He knew of transformation into misery: 'But O, self-traitor, I do bring/The spider love, which transubstan­iates all/And can convert manna to gall' -- but also the trans­formation achieved by beautiful women: 'Us she informed, but transubstantiates you'.

Donne, painted by Isaac Oliver

"And then there was the transformation of himself: from failure and penury, to recognition within his lifetime as one of the finest minds of his age; one whose work, if allowed under your skin, can offer joy so violent it kicks the metal but of your knees, and sorrow large enough to eat you. Because amid all Donne's reinventions, there was a constant running through his life and work: he remained steadfast in his belief that we, humans, are at once a catastrophe and a miracle.

"There are few writers of his time who faced greater horror. Donne's family history was one of blood and fire; a great-uncle was arrested in an anti-Catholic raid and executed: another was locked inside the Tower of London, where as a small schoolboy Donne visited him, venturing fearfully in among the men convicted to death. As a stu­dent, a young priest whom his brother had tried to shelter was captured, hanged, drawn and quartered. His brother was taken by the priest hunters at the same time, tortured and locked in a plague-ridden jail. At sea, Donne watched in horror and fascination as dozens of sailors burned to death. He married a young woman, Anne More, clandestine and hurried by love, and as a result found himself thrown in prison, spending dismayed ice-cold winter months first in a disease-ridden cell and then under house arrest. Once married, they were often poor, and at the mercy of richer friends and relations; he knew what it was to be jealous and thwarted and bitter. He was racked, over and over again, by life-threatening illnesses, with dozens of bouts of fever, aching throat, vomiting; at least three times it was believed he was dying. He lost, over the course of his life, six chil­dren: Francis at seven, Lucy at nineteen, Mary at three, an unnamed stillborn baby, Nicholas as an infant, another stillborn child. He lost Anne, at the age of thirty-three, her body destroyed by bearing twelve children. He thought often of sin, and miserable failure, and suicide. He believed us unique in our capacity to ruin ourselves: 'Nothing but man, of all envenomed things/Doth work upon itself with inborn sting'. He was a man who walked so often in dark­ness that it became for him a daily commute.

"But there are also few writers of his time who insisted so doggedly and determinedly on awe. His poetry is wildly delighted and captivated by the body -- though broken, though doomed to decay -- and by the ways in which think­ing fast and hard were a sensual joy akin to sex. He kicked aside the Petrarchan traditions of idealised, sanitised desire: he joyfully brought the body to collide with the soul. He wrote: 'one might almost say her body thought.' In his ser­mons, he reckoned us a disaster, but the most spectacular disaster that has ever been. As he got older he grew richer, harsher, sterner and drier, yet he still asserted: 'it is too little to call Man a little world; except God, man is a diminu­tive to nothing. Man consists of more pieces, more parts, than the world doth, nay, than the world is.' He believed our minds could be forged into citadels against the world's chaos: he wrote in a verse letter, 'be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.' Tap a human, he believed, and they ring with the sound of infinity.

"Joy and squalor: both Donne's life and work tell that it is fundamentally impossible to have one without taking up the other. You could try, but you would be so coated in the unacknowledged fear of being forced to look, that what purchase could you get on the world? Donne saw, analysed, lived alongside, even saluted corruption and death. He was often hopeless, often despairing, and yet still he insisted at the very end: it is an astonishment to be alive, and it behoves you to be astonished."

Super-Infinite: The Transformations of John Donne
 
author: Katherine Rundell  
title: Super-Infinite: The Transformations of John Donne  
publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux  
date: Copyright 2022 by Katherine Rundell  
page(s): 5-8

The Port Huron Statement - After The Ivory Tower Falls


 From After the Ivory Tower Falls by Will Bunch. The Port Huron Statement was a political manifesto of the American student activist group Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) written in 1962:
 
"The movement that came to be called The New Left united many of the vague stirrings caused by the psychic whipsaw of Cold War anxiety and the comfort-craving materialism of the 1950s. 'The government lied to people and this image that we were fed in school -- our great forefa­thers and this great democracy and we're the greatest country in the world, blah blah -- when you're confronted with other things,' said [Free Speech Movement activist Lynne] Hollander, referring to segregation and McCarthyism. 'Plus the in­security of feeling that nuclear war might break out at any time, and these crazy people thinking you could duck under your desk. All of these things came together.' 

"They came together in one of the most remarkable documents of the twentieth century: the Port Huron Statement. It was the foundational work of a new group called the Students for a Democratic Society, or SDS, which ironically arose from the ashes of a leftist youth group backed by the powerful United Auto Workers Union, only to reject the labor-driven brand of liberalism that had defined the Industrial Rev­olution. The first leader of the SDS was the University of Michigan's [Tom] Hayden. In June 1962, he and his fellow founders of the SDS gathered for a retreat at a UAW summer camp in Port Huron, Michigan, north of Detroit, where they drafted a statement that shunned the old fights over communism in favor of a new politics that rejected both middle­class conformity and Cold War angst. Most significantly, it identified American college campuses as the nexus of a new political and social revolution.

"'We are people of this generation, bred in at least modest comfort, housed now in universities, looking uncomfortably to the world we inherit,' the Hayden-drafted Port Huron Statement begins famously. 'When we were kids the United States was the wealthiest and stron­gest country in the world; the only one with the atom bomb, the least scarred by modern war, an initiator of the United Nations that we thought would distribute Western influence throughout the world.' Their childhood bred complacency, the statement argues, which would be shattered by growing awareness of the destructive power of the atom bomb and the moral indefensibility of racism, especially segregation.

"The 25,700-word statement embraces a newish concept that it la­beled 'participatory democracy,' which would give individuals more of a say, in politics and over their own lives. It was a 'New Left' be­cause in pursuit of progressive goals, it rejected the collective action of worker-based early-twentieth-century leftist movements for a kind of personal freedom, made possible -- ironically -- by the liberation of union-aided postwar affluence, and boosted by the free thought of liberal education. It would have been impossible to predict from a 1962 perspective how the desires for personal freedom might some­day metastasize -- steered by the generations coming up right behind them -- into things like open-carry gun ownership or refusing to wear a mask during a pandemic. At the peak of JFK's soon-to-be-shattered 'Camelot,' participatory democracy instead was seen as the vehicle that would finally bring about goals like integration, peaceful use of atomic energy, and an end to overseas imperialism.

"In other ways, the Port Huron Statement is a kind of a yin to the yang of [Clark] Kerr's Uses of the University lectures. While the University of California president saw his modern 'multiversity' as the humming factory of a knowledge economy that was making the United States the essential world superpower, Hayden and the SDS saw the univer­sity as the last place where a democratic America could be saved -- if students and faculty were allowed to convert their knowledge into po­litical power.

"With labor unions compromised by the Cold War and other key groups such as southern Blacks struggling on the margins, the state­ment argued that the nation's booming universities were now the last best hope for progressivism as 'the only mainstream institution that is open to participation by individuals of nearly any viewpoint.' Col­lege campuses, it continued, could be incubators of democracy, exactly as the New Deal technocrats of the Truman Commission era had imagined -- but a true version of democracy, not the corrupted Cold War model. The Port Huron Statement urged that both students and faculty 'wrest control of the educational process from the adminis­trative bureaucracy' and integrate more real-world issues into the curriculum -- the 1950s notion of college as 'general education,' but on steroids. Students could use the new American way of college as 'a base for their assault upon the loci of power.' 

"This was a radical notion. In the short term, this key argument of the Port Huron Statement set the stage for a decade of youthful polit­ical energy and revolutionary ideas unlike anything that America has seen before ... or since. Needless to say, the so-called Establishment had no idea what was coming. The newspapers of 1962 didn't bother to dismiss the statement as the sophomoric ramblings of idealistically naive youth, because the newspapers didn't even think this was news. Only when the seeds that were planted near the shores of Lake Hu­ron began to bloom on campuses from Berkeley to Columbia would the postwar Establishment begin to wonder whether its great experi­ment in taxpayer-subsidized liberal education and free thought had run amok and created a monster. The coming battles that would be waged from the streets of Chicago to Woodstock Nation were only the first shots of a war that has lasted until today. The youth power of the stu­dent movement sparked by groups like SNCC and the SDS gave rise to a powerful opposing force -- the backlash that gave voice to Ronald Reagan, then Rush Limbaugh, then Donald Trump."

After the Ivory Tower Falls: How College Broke the American Dream and Blew Up Our Politics -- and How to Fix It
 
author: Will Bunch  
title: After the Ivory Tower Falls: How College Broke the American Dream and Blew Up Our Politics -- and How to Fix It  
publisher: William Morrow  
date: Copyright 2022 by Will Bunch  
page(s): 74-77