THE MOVIES BEGIN . . . AGAIN

When new technologies appear, the instinct is to try and figure out ways to make them the vessels for existing content.  But new technologies usually need a new kind of content — or old content wholly re-imagined.

When it became possible to distribute movies on the Internet, everybody tried to figure out how aging, worn-out Hollywood content could be shifted over to the new venue and monetized.  It was an effort doomed to fail.  Content can never be considered apart from the means used to distribute it, and thus the ways it is consumed.

What we need to do is look at what kind of movies are working on the Internet, and proceed from there.  What's working are short comedy bits, short sexy images and actualities — real-life anecdotal videos of a cute or startling nature.

It's strikingly like the content that first made movies popular, when the technology of projected film first hit the scene at the end of the 19th century.  Films were novelties then — people had no way conceptually of consuming them as self-contained works.  So they were shown as peep-show attractions in arcades or as interludes on vaudeville bills.  What people responded to were . . . short comedy bits, short sexy images (a dancer showing a bit of leg was soft porn back then), and actualities, real-life anecdotal films of a cute or startling nature.

Plus ça change, huh?

But people soon grew tired of these snippets.  They wanted longer, more coherent pieces, which meant that they wanted stories.  But it wasn't possible to jump straight to any existing story form.  Attention span still could not support film stories the length of plays, much less novels, or even short stories.  Ten minutes was the absolute limit of attention one could count on from an early film viewer — about the length of a vaudeville skit.  So a whole new form of storytelling was developed — one that incorporated short comedy bits, sexy stuff and documentary footage (of trains, for example.)  But now these were integrated into a narrative.

Audiences had to learn to absorb these short narratives before they could be expanded into feature-length film narratives — into an evening's entertainment.  It happened remarkably fast, primarily because the ten-minute and then the twenty-minute form was developed with such brilliant invention by storytellers like Griffith.  The density of content and suggestion in Griffith's one-reelers and two-reelers, and the extraordinary beauty of his images — like the one above from The Country Doctor in 1909 — eventually made it clear (to some) that movies could hold an audience's attention for even longer than twenty minutes.

Filmmakers need to start anticipating what story forms are going to work on the Internet.  There will not be a straight jump to feature-length narratives, or even half-hour narratives.  Even the length of a ten-minute vaudeville skit is probably too long.  What's needed are stories no longer than a cute cat video.

Can stories, real stories, be that short?  Of course they can.  Micro-fiction is as valid a form of fiction as any other — if it is dense with content and suggestion, if it can conjure up whole worlds beyond the frame of its images and brief running time.

Hemingway was once challenged to write a six word story.  He came up with this — “For sale, baby shoes, never used.”  That tells a real story, and a good one.  It resonates in the mind and in the heart, like any good story.  The micro-movies that will introduce real narrative content to Internet cinema will have to learn that kind of dynamic compression, and they will have to be told in images of genuine beauty, depth and inventiveness — there will be no room for the slick, throwaway non-images of the current Hollywood cinema, which have to be hurled past us at lightning speed because they would not reward close scrutiny.

This path is really the only way forward for filmmakers of the Internet era.  It may seem like re-inventing the wheel, but filmmakers of the nickelodeon era were also re-inventing the wheel when they tried to figure out how to put over a grand Biblical epic in ten minutes.  They seem to have had an awful lot of fun doing it, though, and in the process they created a new art form.

An essay like this can't really suggest the kinds of films I'm proposing, but my friend Jae Song is currently directing a series of movies in New York — I call them Majestic Micro Movies — which will make the whole thing clearer.  You'll be able to watch them soon — here, there and everywhere.

CORPORATIONS ARE NOT PEOPLE

At the time of America's founding there were very few organization which might be recognizable today as corporations.  They were held in the deepest suspicion by the class of men who made up the Founding Fathers.  Their right to exist, for limited times and specific purposes, was held to be entirely dependent on government sufferance, and wholly subservient to government regulation.  They owed that sufferance only to the condition that they might promote the common welfare, in addition to the enrichment of the corporation's members.

The word “soulless” was commonly used in discussing corporations formed for profit, and Thomas Jefferson was concerned that corporations, if allowed to grow too wealthy and powerful, might subvert the Republic itself.  (What a worry-wart!)

The idea that business corporations might, as entities, claim the right of free speech, comparable to that of individuals or the press, would have been as surreal to the men who framed our system of government as the idea that a herd of cows might claim the right of free speech.  Cows were not thought of as human beings in the early days of this republic, and neither were state-chartered corporations.

The growing power of corporations in the American economy has resulted in a creeping diminution of views like Jefferson's.  This was inevitable, but it still had a logic to it.  It was recognized that corporations quite often contributed greatly to the common good, sometimes in spectacular ways.  Their potential for ill was never lost sight of, though, and the government always retained its right to reign in the corporations when their wickedness grew too potent, or too blatant.

This was what underlay the Progressivism of Presidents like Teddy Roosevelt, at bottom a conservative Republican, who saw nothing un-American about restricting the right of corporations to contribute to election campaigns or otherwise seek to subvert popular government — that is, government by actual human beings.

All of that changed with the recent ruling by the Roberts Court, expressly granting the rights of an individual human being to any corporation.  The “original intent” of the Founders and one hundred years of explicit legal precedent were simply thrown out the window.

All Americans need to read Justice John Paul Stevens's dissent against this disastrous ruling.  It may be the last time we ever hear the voice of Jefferson, the voice of the Founders, on this issue.  Barack Obama, who thought he could fight the corporations with attitude and supplication, is not going to be re-elected in 2012.  His successor will be a Republican, who will in all likelihood appoint the next new Supreme Court Justices — and they will all be corporate lackeys.

Justice Stevens's is a voice crying out in the wilderness, and it may have come too late, but as an American, I'm proud that it came at all.  It is a voice from the depths of all that was good and reasonable and humane in this country.

THE COUP



It's now official — America is, not just practically but technically, a plutocracy.  The Supreme Court's decision yesterday to recognize corporations as individual human beings, with all the rights of individual human beings, opens the door to the full totalitarian control of the United States government by corporations.



It's comparable to that moment in Soviet history when Lenin decided that the central executive of the Bolshevik Party was the supreme and unchallengeable ruling body in Russia.  Chief Justice John Roberts (above) is the Lenin of the new totalitarian America.  He can now become President if he wants to — all he needs is a few big beneficiaries of his ruling yesterday to purchase the office for him.  And why shouldn't they?  He has delivered the whole nation into their hands.

The great American experiment in democracy is over.  It may not be revived in our lifetimes — it may never be revived.  Reviving it will require what Lincoln called, in the midst of the Civil War, a “new birth of freedom” — and probably a cataclysm as great at the Civil War to spark it.

In the 1857 Supreme Court decision in the Dred Scott case, Chief Justice Roger B. Taney (above), speaking for the majority, wrote that black people have “no rights which the white man is bound to respect.”  It was, sad to say, a theoretically justifiable opinion, from a Constitutional point of view.  The framers clearly had no intent to grant blacks the rights of American citizenship.  Good sense and common decency might have stretched the legal niceties a bit, but that didn't happen.  What the decision meant was that the issue of slavery could never be solved except by war, by the shedding of blood.

Ironically, the new Supreme Court decision is a kind of demonic mirror of the Dred Scott decision.  In the latter, the insane notion was proposed that blacks were not human beings.  In the former, an equally insane notion was proposed — that institutions which embody vast agglomerations of wealth and power are human beings.  Neither decision is compatible with a rational, humane society.

But if one is tempted to abject despair, it's a good time to remember what Frederick Douglass wrote after the Dred Scott decision was handed down:

The highest authority has spoken.  The voice of the Supreme Court has
gone out over the troubled waves of the National Conscience.  But my
hopes were never brighter than now.  I have no fear that the National
Conscience will be put to sleep by such an open, glaring, and
scandalous issue of lies.



Can American democracy save itself one more time from the madness that runs so deep in the American soul?  Is there another Teddy Roosevelt out there who will fight for real human beings against the great, faceless juggernauts of the “trusts”?  (The Supreme Court ruling yesterday overturned a law passed under TR which prohibited political contributions by corporations.)

The time of the temporizers, of the cosmetic progressives like Barack Obama, is over.  It is a time for patriots — or slaves.  There is no more middle ground.

The choice will be ours, each individually, but being an American in spite of myself I say, with Douglass — my hopes were never brighter than now.  The issue has been laid out starkly, for all to see.  Only those who accept the condition of slavery for themselves and their children will close their eyes to what's at stake, and if they do, their enslavement (if not the enslavement of their children) will be richly deserved.

These are the times, as another patriot once said, that try men's souls.  May those of our generation not be found wanting.

SENATOR SCOTT BROWN

Left-wing commentators and Democratic Party officials are making quite a spectacle of themselves in the wake of Scott Brown's victory in the race for Ted Kennedy's old Senate seat.  They are offering sarcastic insults to Brown and self-righteous insults to the woman he defeated, Martha Coakley, for her inept campaign.

Only Fox carried the whole of Brown's victory speech.  The left-leaning news organizations apparently just don't want to know what defeated them, what they're up against.  (The ever-smug Keith Olberman announced MSNBC's termination of its coverage of the speech by saying, “We're going to cut away before he gets down to offering his family chowder recipe”, utterly tone-deaf to the down-home appeal of Brown and his family — it was the “chowder recipes” which got him elected.)

I watched the whole speech, even though I had to switch reluctantly to Faux News to do it, and I can tell you this — Scott Brown is a star.

His populist rhetoric, his attacks on the special interests, made me, a progressive, feel good — just as Obama's populist rhetoric and attacks on special interests made me feel good.

Feel is the operative word here.  I don't trust Scott Brown further than I could throw him to fight the special interests in Washington, to work for the people — like all Republicans he will serve the corporations.  But I did trust Obama, with all my heart, to fight the special interests in Washington, to work for me, and it all turned out to be a fraud.



The first thing Obama did when he got to the White House was pull his pants down, bend over and beg the big corporations to be gentle with him.  He begged the heath care industry and its shills in the Congress to let him pass something that looked vaguely like a heath care reform bill — he's still down on his knees to the large financial institutions begging them to behave morally and responsibly.

Faced with that, it doesn't matter that Brown and many of his supporters are hairpins, mad as hatters — all they have to do is cry, “The emperor has no clothes!” to gain credibility, because everyone, of every political stripe, can see that's it's true.  Even if they won't admit it, they feel it in their gut, the place where most votes by most people originate.

People don't vote for policies, they vote for stories.  Brown can tell the story people most want to hear now — that we can fight the systemic corruption in Washington, that we can take the country back from the special interests.  He can tell it and Obama can't, because Obama has proved, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he doesn't believe in it anymore, if he ever did.

You can draw your own conclusions about what this is going to mean next November, and in 2012.  I'll say this, though — expect Brown to be a player in the race for the Republican nomination for President in 2012, and if he gets it, expect him to beat Obama.

The Democrats won't even see it coming, just as they had no desire to watch Brown's victory speech last night.  They're far more interested in explaining why he shouldn't have won than in understanding why he did.

THE REAL DEAL

After yesterday’s jeremiad about the Pat Robertson brand of Christianity, it was good to be reminded by my friend Paul Zahl of what Charles Dickens found when he looked over the shoulder of one of his characters as she gazed into “the eternal book”:

Harriet complied and read — read the eternal book for all the weary,
and the heavy-laden; for all the wretched, fallen, and neglected of
this earth — read the blessed history, in which the blind, lame,
palsied beggar, the criminal, the woman stained with shame, the shunned
of all our dainty clay, has each a portion, that no human pride,
indifference, or sophistry through all the ages that this world shall
last, can take away, or by the thousandth atom of a grain reduce . . .

— from Dombey and Son

That quote in turn made me think of these lines from Bob Dylan’s “Chimes Of Freedom”, whose rhythm and language are so oddly like those of Dickens, with a Beat twist to them:

Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations
Tolling for the deaf an’ blind, tolling for the mute
Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an’ cheated by pursuit
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing . . .

Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Dylan may have had the eternal book in mind when he wrote this, with that “cathedral night” and that climactic image of the “hung-up person”, a bit of Beat lingo which, in this context, puts one in mind of some later lines he wrote:

There’s a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pourin’ out of a boxcar door,
You didn’t know it, you didn’t think it could be done, in the final end he won the war
After losin’ every battle.

CHRISTIANITY MUST BE DESTROYED!



As Jesse Dylan observed on Facebook yesterday, “And the asshole of the year . . . the person with the least compassion . . . the everything wrong with religion award goes to . . .”

Who else could it be but Christian ghoul Pat Robertson, whose narcissistic wickedness knows no bounds?  Pat loves to taunt and judge the suffering people of this world, especially at the times of their greatest agony, by blaming them for their own misfortune, as proceeding from their unwillingness to worship God according his formulae.

Most recently he has blamed the earthquake in Haiti on the fact that those Haitians who fought the French for their liberty, two hundred years ago, succeeded because they made a pact with Satan, offering to worship him in return for his aid.  The nation and all its people — like the little girl below — have been cursed ever since, says Pat.  (Robertson also blamed the catastrophes of 9/11 and Katrina on the sinfulness of the victims, i. e. on their failure to endorse his social agenda.)

What any of this might have to do with the actual Christian Gospels is beyond rational conjecture.  Robertson's Jesus seems to be a zombie god, who came to gloat over the corpses of the dead, as a way of gaining converts through a kind of moral terrorism, instead of that uncanny rabbi of the Gospels whose heart ached so inconsolably for human suffering that he wanted to give up his own life to alleviate it.

CNN showed video today of people in Port-au-Prince waiting outside a medical clinic, which was only partially intact, for emergency service.  Amongst them lay the corpse of an infant under a dirty scrap of sheet.  I wish Pat Robertson had been there, so he could have lifted back the shroud and shaken his finger at the child, crying, “This is what comes of worshiping Satan!”  He seems to have cast himself as a cartoonish Hammer Film monster in some demented remake of Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed!  The irony of the genre and the role is apparently lost on him, though.

I don't personally believe in Hell as a literal place — only in the hells we make for ourselves here on earth.  I doubt if even Hieronymus Bosch could have depicted the hell Pat Robertson has made for himself, off in his own little hermetically sealed world of self-righteousness.  It's something that almost doesn't bear thinking about.

From a recent article in The New York Times:

KAMPALA, Uganda — Last March, three American evangelical Christians,
whose teachings about “curing” homosexuals have been widely discredited
in the United States, arrived here in Uganda's capital to give a series of talks.

The theme of the event, according to Stephen Langa, its Ugandan
organizer, was “the gay agenda — that whole hidden and dark agenda” —
and the threat homosexuals posed to Bible-based values and the
traditional African family.

For three days, according to participants and audio recordings,
thousands of Ugandans, including police officers, teachers and national
politicians, listened raptly to the Americans, who were presented as
experts on homosexuality. The visitors discussed how to make gay people
straight, how gay men often sodomized teenage boys and how “the gay
movement is an evil institution” whose goal is “to defeat the
marriage-based society and replace it with a culture of sexual
promiscuity.”

Now the three Americans are finding themselves on the defensive,
saying they had no intention of helping stoke the kind of anger that
could lead to what came next: a bill to impose a death sentence for
homosexual behavior.

Poor misunderstood evangelicals!  Yes, they wanted the Ugandans to hate and fear homosexuality as they hated and feared the Devil, and yes, they wanted laws against it — they just didn't want the penalties for it to be so harsh.  Forgive me if I barf.

Once, on a Polish freighter crossing the Atlantic, I met a lovely German woman of a certain age who had lost a brother on the Russian front in WWII.  So many years later she still wept when she spoke of him.  Discussing the holocaust, she said, “We knew the laws against Jews were wrong — but killing them!  We could not imagine that.”

This excuse won't wash any more.  Dehumanizing and demonizing people, identifying them as agents of the Devil, always leads to murder, eventually, along a path too well marked in human history to be followed innocently, except by moral imbeciles.


The “gay agenda”, if such a thing exists, isn't dark.  I've known scores of gay people and not one of them has ever had the slightest interest in “converting” straights to homosexuality, having sex with children or destroying the institution of marriage.  The mere fact that so many gays want to participate in the institution of marriage shows a respect for it that's harder and harder to find among straight people.  You can see their aspirations as misguided, but not dark.

The “Christian” agenda, by contrast, is often, and repeatedly, as dark as it gets.  The Catholic bishops who shuttled child-abusing priests from parish to parish to protect the name of the church belong in jail, and could easily be put there if there were the political will to apply the RICO laws concerning criminal conspiracy against them.


The Mormon elders (like chief prophet Gordon B. Hinckley, above) who committed tax-exempt church funds to defeat the law in California granting the civil, secular rights of marriage to gays need to be prosecuted, too, for misuse of funds.  At the very least, the Mormon church should have its tax-exempt status revoked immediately and permanently.  I am perfectly content for the Latter Day Saints to function as a political action group — they're welcome to meddle in Caesar's things to their hearts' content, defying the teachings of Jesus with all the scorn and contempt they can muster.  I am not, however, content to subsidize them in this role.


There are many good people who believe
that consensual sex between adults of the same sex is perverse, morally
wrong — but does anyone in their right mind really believe that it falls into the same category of moral depravity as conspiring
in the rape of children?  The mere fact that Rick Warren suggested a
moral equivalence between these behaviors was enough in itself to
identify him as an unbalanced kook.


The pathetic evangelical homophobes (like Scott Lively, above, and Don Schmierer, below) who incited the Ugandans to murder probably broke no civil laws, just the laws of God, upon which they defecated publicly.

I hesitate to speak for Jesus, but since very few seem inclined to these days, I'll just say this — I think he would be richly pleased, and truly served, if every “Christian” church on the face of the earth just quietly disappeared.  Only then, I suspect, would there be a chance of his message being heard.

PARIS: DOUBLE VISION — MEDITATION ON THE GRAND VÉFOUR, PART THREE

The conclusion of Coralie Chappat's Autobiography Of A Mirror:

Le miroir m'embrasse de sa mémoire; mémoire active à laquelle se mêle
ma trace.  Devenant témoin, j'en atteste l'existence.  Je suis portée
par les regards qui se sont cherchés, dont les reflets ont quitté la
réalité commune et pour lesquels le miroir en chérit les
réminiscences.  Dans le réceptacle du silence, j'en prolonge le
souvenir.


Trésor ineffable; reviviscences d'événements et de confessions
oubliées; empreintes du réel, matière chargée d'émotions.



 


A qui se laisse conter l'autobiographie d'un miroir,
se dévoile le mystère des lieux.

THE MARDECORTESBAJA TEST KITCHEN

In response to numerous requests, here is a photograph of the mardecortesbaja test kitchen, where all the recipes offered on this site are put through their paces rigorously before being certified “idiot-proof”.

The staff of assistants, pictured above, renders invaluable aid during this exacting process.  All its members are skilled kitchen professionals of high moral character.

PARIS: DOUBLE VISION — MEDITATION ON THE GRAND VÉFOUR, PART TWO

The second part of Coralie Chappat’s Autobiography Of A Mirror:

Le carrelage m’indique les pas, les lustres, la galerie à emprunter . . .

. . . la profondeur de la voie s’illumine sous mon seul regard.

Mon visage a disparu, s’est effacé du réel tandis que mon corps est retenu par la réalité de ce jour tel un port dans la mer des possibles.  Prenant appui sur l’évanescence de mon image, je bascule de l’autre côté.

Si mon visage est déjà en route, combien ont emprunté cette même voie?

Absence, présence . . . ici autant que là-bas.