#anti capitalist film

[whereserpentswalk]

Ending the sexualization of women on film won't happen when female characters are completely covered from the neck down and shot as conservatively as possible with the camera treating their bodies like forbidden fruit, it will happen when a female action hero can appear entirely shirtless and have it be shot as entirely badass and powerful just like how it would for a male action hero.

[dailyanarchistposts]

III. Toward an Anarchist Film Theory

In his article “What is Anarchist Cultural Studies?” Jesse Cohn argues that anarchist cultural studies (ACS) can be distinguished from critical theory and consumer-agency theory along several trajectories (Cohn, 2009: 403–24). Among other things, he writes, ACS tries “to avoid reducing the politics of popular culture to a simplistic dichotomy of ‘reification’ versus ‘resistance’” (ibid., 412). On the one hand, anarchists have always balked at the pretensions of “high culture” even before these were exposed and demystified by the likes of Bourdieu in his theory of “cultural capital.” On the other hand, we always sought ought and found “spaces of liberty — even momentary, even narrow and compromised — within capitalism and the State” (ibid., 413). At the same time, anarchists have never been content to find “reflections of our desires in the mirror of commercial culture,” nor merely to assert the possibility of finding them (ibid.). Democracy, liberation, revolution, etc. are not already present in a culture; they are among many potentialities which must be actualized through active intervention.

If Cohn’s general view of ACS is correct, and I think it is, we ought to recognize its significant resonance with the Foucauldian tertia via outlined above. When Cohn claims that anarchists are “critical realists and monists, in that we recognize our condition as beings embedded within a single, shared reality” (Cohn, 2009: 413), he acknowledges that power actively affects both internal (subjective) existence as well as external (intersubjective) existence. At the same time, by arguing “that this reality is in a continuous process of change and becoming, and that at any given moment, it includes an infinity — bounded by, situated within, ‘anchored’ to the concrete actuality of the present — of emergent or potential realities” (ibid.), Cohn denies that power (hence, reality) is a single actuality that transcends, or is simply “given to,” whatever it affects or acts upon. On the contrary, power is plural and potential, immanent to whatever it affects because precisely because affected in turn. From the standpoint of ACS and Foucault alike, then, culture is reciprocal and symbiotic — it both produces and is produced by power relations. What implications might this have for contemporary film theory?

At present the global film industry — not to speak of the majority of media — is controlled by six multinational corporate conglomerates: The News Corporation, The Walt Disney Company, Viacom, Time Warner, Sony Corporation of America, and NBC Universal. As of 2005, approximately 85% of box office revenue in the United States was generated by these companies, as compared to a mere 15% by so-called “independent” studios whose films are produced without financing and distribution from major movie studios. Never before has the intimate connection between cinema and capitalism appeared quite as stark.

As Horkheimer and Adorno argued more than fifty years ago, the salient characteristic of “mainstream” Hollywood cinema is its dual role as commodity and ideological mechanism. On the one hand, films not only satisfy but produce various consumer desires. On the other hand, this desire-satisfaction mechanism maintains and strengthens capitalist hegemony by manipulating and distracting the masses. In order to fulfill this role, “mainstream” films must adhere to certain conventions at the level of both form and content. With respect to the former, for example, they must evince a simple plot structure, straightforwardly linear narrative, and easily understandable dialogue. With respect to the latter, they must avoid delving deeply into complicated social, moral, and philosophical issues and should not offend widely-held sensibilities (chief among them the idea that consumer capitalism is an indispensable, if not altogether just, socio-economic system). Far from being arbitrary, these conventions are deliberately chosen and reinforced by the culture industry in order to reach the largest and most diverse audience possible and to maximize the effectiveness of film-as-propaganda.

“Avant garde” or “underground cinema,” in contrast, is marked by its self — conscious attempt to undermine the structures and conventions which have been imposed on cinema by the culture industry — for example, by presenting shocking images, employing unusual narrative structures, or presenting unorthodox political, religious, and philosophical viewpoints. The point in so doing is allegedly to “liberate” cinema from its dual role as commodity and ideological machine (either directly, by using film as a form of radical political critique, or indirectly, by attempting to revitalize film as a serious art form).

Despite its merits, this analysis drastically oversimplifies the complexities of modern cinema. In the first place, the dichotomy between “mainstream” and “avant-garde” has never been particularly clear-cut, especially in non-American cinema. Many of the paradigmatic European “art films” enjoyed considerable popularity and large box office revenues within their own markets, which suggests among other things that “mainstream” and “avant garde” are culturally relative categories. So, too, the question of what counts as “mainstream” versus “avant garde” is inextricably bound up in related questions concerning the aesthetic “value” or “merit” of films. To many, “avant garde” film is remarkable chiefly for its artistic excellence, whereas “mainstream” film is little more than mass-produced pap. But who determines the standards for cinematic excellence, and how? As Dudley Andrews notes,

[...] [C]ulture is not a single thing but a competition among groups. And, competition is organized through power clusters we can think of as institutions. In our own field certain institutions stand out in marble buildings. The NEH is one; but in a different way, so is Hollywood, or at least the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Standard film critics constitute a sub-group of the communication institution, and film professors make up a parallel group, especially as they collect in conferences and in societies (Andrews, 1985: 55).

Andrews’ point here echoes one we made earlier — namely, that film criticism itself is a product of complicated power relations. Theoretical dichotomies such as “mainstream versus avant-garde” or “art versus pap” are manifestations of deeper socio-political conflicts which are subject to analysis in turn.

Even if there is or was such a thing as “avant-garde” cinema, it no longer functions in the way that Horkheimer and Adorno envisaged, if it ever did. As they themselves recognized, one of the most remarkable features of late capitalism is its ability to appropriate and commodify dissent. Friedberg, for example, is right to point out that flaneurie began as a transgressive institution which was subsequently captured by the culture industry; but the same is true even of “avant-garde” film — an idea that its champions frequently fail to acknowledge. Through the use of niche marketing and other such mechanisms, the postmodern culture industry has not only overcome the “threat” of the avant-garde but transformed that threat into one more commodity to be bought and sold. Media conglomerates make more money by establishing faux “independent” production companies (e.g., Sony Pictures Classics, Fox Searchlight Pictures, etc) and re-marketing “art films” (ala the Criterion Collection) than they would by simply ignoring independent, underground, avant-garde, etc. cinema altogether.

All of this is by way of expanding upon an earlier point — namely, that it is difficult, if not impossible, to determine the extent to which particular films or cinematic genres function as instruments of socio-political repression — especially in terms of simple dichotomies such as “mainstream” versus “avant-garde.” In light of our earlier discussion of Foucault, not to speak of Derrida, this ought not to come as a surprise. At the same time, however, we have ample reason to believe that the contemporary film industry is without question one of the preeminent mechanisms of global capitalist cultural hegemony. To see why this is the case, we ought briefly to consider some insights from Gilles Deleuze.

There is a clear parallel between Friedberg’s mobilized flaneurial gaze and what Deleuze calls the “nomadic” — i.e., those social formations which are exterior to repressive modern apparatuses like State and Capital (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987: 351–423). Like the nomad, the flaneur wanders aimlessly and without a predetermined telos through the striated space of these apparatuses. Her mobility itself, however, belongs to the sphere of non-territorialized smooth space, unconstrained by regimentation or structure, free-flowing, detached. The desire underlying this mobility is productive; it actively avoids satisfaction and seeks only to proliferate and perpetuate its own movement. Apparatuses of repression, in contrast, operate by striating space and routinizing, regimenting, or otherwise constraining mobile desire. They must appropriate the nomadic in order to function as apparatuses of repression.

Capitalism, however one understands its relationship to other repressive apparatuses, strives to commodify flaneurial desire, or, what comes to the same, to produce artificial desires which appropriate, capture, and ultimately absorb flaneurial desire (ibid., esp. 424–73). Deleuze would agree with Horkheimer and Adorno that the contemporary film industry serves a dual role as capture mechanism and as commodity. It not only functions as an object within capitalist exchange but as an ideological machine that reinforces the production of consumer-subjects. This poses a two-fold threat to freedom, at least as freedom is understood from a Deleuzean perspective: first, it makes nomadic mobility abstract and virtual, trapping it in striated space and marshaling it toward the perpetuation of repressive apparatuses; and second, it replaces the free-flowing desire of the nomadic with social desire — that is, it commodifies desire and appropriates flaneurie as a mode of capitalist production.

The crucial difference is that for Deleuze, as for Foucault and ACS, the relation between the nomadic and the social is always and already reciprocal. In one decidedly aphoristic passage, Deleuze claims there are only forces of desire and social forces (Deleuze & Guattari, [1972] 1977: 29). Although he tends to regard desire as a creative force (in the sense that it produces rather than represses its object) and the social as a force which “dams up, channels, and regulates” the flow of desire (ibid., 33), he does not mean to suggest that there are two distinct kinds of forces which differentially affect objects exterior to themselves. On the contrary, there is only a single, unitary force which manifests itself in particular “assemblages” (ibid.). Each of these assemblages, in turn, contains within itself both desire and various “bureaucratic or fascist pieces” which seek to subjugate and annihilate that desire (Deleuze & Guattari, 1986: 60; Deleuze & Parnet, 1987: 133). Neither force acts or works upon preexistent objects; rather everything that exists is alternately created and/or destroyed in accordance with the particular assemblage which gives rise to it.

There is scarcely any question that the contemporary film industry is subservient to repressive apparatuses such as transnational capital and the government of the United States. The fact that the production of films is overwhelmingly controlled by a handful of media conglomerates, the interests of which are routinely protected by federal institutions at the expense of consumer autonomy, makes this abundantly clear. It also reinforces the naivety of cultural studies, whose valorization of consumer subcultures appears totally impotent in the face of such enormous power. As Richard Hoggart notes,

Studies of this kind habitually ignore or underplay the fact that these groups are almost entirely enclosed from and are refusing even to attempt to cope with the public life of their societies. That rejection cannot reasonably be given some idealistic ideological foundation. It is a rejection, certainly, and in that rejection may be making some implicit criticisms of the ‘hegemony,’ and those criticisms need to be understood. But such groups are doing nothing about it except to retreat (Hoggart, 1995: 186).

Even if we overlook the Deleuzean/Foucauldian/ACS critique — viz., that cultural studies relies on a theoretically problematic notion of consumer “agency” — such agency appears largely impotent at the level of praxis as well.

Nor is there any question that the global proliferation of Hollywood cinema is part of a broader imperialist movement in geopolitics. Whether consciously or unconsciously, American films reflect and reinforce uniquely capitalist values and to this extent pose a threat to the political, economic, and cultural sovereignty of other nations and peoples. It is for the most part naïve of cultural studies critics to assign “agency” to non-American consumers who are not only saturated with alien commodities but increasingly denied the ability to produce and consume native commodities. At the same time, none of this entails that competing film industries are by definition “liberatory.” Global capitalism is not the sole or even the principal locus of repressive power; it is merely one manifestation of such power among many. Ostensibly anti-capitalist or counter-hegemonic movements at the level of culture can and often do become repressive in their own right — as, for example, in the case of nationalist cinemas which advocate terrorism, religious fundamentalism, and the subjugation of women under the banner of “anti-imperialism.”

The point here, which reinforces several ideas already introduced, is that neither the American film industry nor film industries as such are intrinsically reducible to a unitary source of repressive power. As a social formation or assemblage, cinema is a product of a complex array of forces. To this extent it always and already contains both potentially liberatory and potentially repressive components. In other words, a genuinely nomadic cinema — one which deterritorializes itself and escapes the overcoding of repressive state apparatuses — is not only possible but in some sense inevitable. Such a cinema, moreover, will emerge neither on the side of the producer nor of the consumer, but rather in the complex interstices that exist between them. I therefore agree with Cohn that anarchist cultural studies (and, by extension, anarchist film theory) has as one of its chief goals the “extrapolation” of latent revolutionary ideas in cultural practices and products (where “extrapolation” is understood in the sense of actively and creatively realizing possibilities rather than simply “discovering” actualities already present) (Cohn, 2009: 412). At the same time, I believe anarchist film theory must play a role in creating a new and distinctively anarchist cinema — “a cinema of liberation.”

Such a cinema would perforce involve alliances between artists and audiences with a mind to blurring such distinctions altogether. It would be the responsibility neither of an elite “avant-garde” which produces underground films, nor of subaltern consumer “cults” which produce fanzines and organize conventions in an attempt to appropriate and “talk back to” mainstream films. As we have seen, apparatuses of repression easily overcode both such strategies. By effectively dismantling rigid distinctions between producers and consumers, its films would be financed, produced, distributed, and displayed by and for their intended audiences. However, far from being a mere reiteration of the independent or DIY ethic — which, again, has been appropriated time and again by the culture industry — anarchist cinema would be self — consciously political at the level of form and content; its medium and message would be unambiguously anti — authoritarian, unequivocally opposed to all forms of repressive power.

Lastly, anarchist cinema would retain an emphasis on artistic integrity — the putative value of innovative cinematography, say, or compelling narrative. It would, in other words, seek to preserve and expand upon whatever makes cinema powerful as a medium and as an art-form. This refusal to relegate cinema to either a mere commodity form or a mere vehicle of propaganda is itself an act of refusal replete with political potential. The ultimate liberation of cinema from the discourse of political struggle is arguably the one cinematic development that would not, and could not, be appropriated and commodified by repressive social formations.

In this essay I have drawn upon the insights of Foucault and Deleuze to sketch an “anarchist” approach to the analysis of film — on which constitutes a middle ground between the “top-down” theories of the Frankfurt School and the “bottom-up” theories of cultural studies. Though I agree with Horkheimer and Adorno that cinema can be used as an instrument of repression, as is undoubtedly the case with the contemporary film industry, I have argued at length that cinema as such is neither inherently repressive nor inherently liberatory. Furthermore, I have demonstrated that the politics of cinema cannot be situated exclusively in the designs of the culture industry nor in the interpretations and responses of consumer-subjects. An anarchist analysis of cinema must emerge precisely where cinema itself does — at the intersection of mutually reinforcing forces of production and consumption.

[itsnotmyfaultsomepeoplecantread]

Y’all. Leverage and Leverage Redemption are some of the best f*cking exposés about every layer of corruption that exists in our world.

Why? Because they can make each episode/story have the most satisfying ending, and it’s so fun to watch because of the camp.

But also, where else are you going to watch a show that makes you think about how there are people out in the world who exploit and abuse like competitive video game players? Where would you even begin to think about that? But they did it and they’re right… those people exist.

Abuse and corruption is everywhere. And not only does it talk about this system existing and thriving, but it also illuminates how it doesn’t matter how much you fight every corrupt person, because the system itself is broken. But helping one person at a time by exposing their abuser is a good place to start.

With film on shaky grounds right now, we NEED to keep fighting for these stories. We need to fight for the anti-capitalist rhetoric of leverage. The gay/trans supportive storylines of Good Omens. The modern issues brought up in Futurama. All of it.

We need people to be able to see themselves and see their stories so we can also fight to change their circumstances.

[sjalsarkiv]

stalker, still ceases to amaze me.

[metallicat777]

I need more people to realize that if you want quality entertainment, food, clothing, etc, you have to be pro-union. You have to be pro-worker.

The reason there’s only one or two good movies coming out nowadays and the rest are hollow sequels nobody asked for is because CEOs of animation studios like dreamworks for example, are choosing “saving money” (see: Union-busting/avoiding negotiations with unions, outsourcing animation to other countries where the animators are paid *even less*) over authentic art. They cut out interesting plot points, balance of heartfelt moments and humorous scenes because it’s cheaper to settle for sloppy animation made by people who aren’t paid enough and poorly written stories and execution that only succeed because they’re riding on an already popular franchise.

The minute Starbucks unions were able to come to a deal with the CEO, he gets taken out and a new guy gets put right back in, so they have to start the whole process over.

Clothing companies resort to poorly made mass produced fast fashion which is manufactured overseas by children who get paid 15 cents an hour because it’s easier and cheaper than hiring unionized factory workers.

Shitty writing in tv shows and even books is becoming common because it’s easier to use shitass ai programs than it is to hire people who care about creating good content for others to enjoy.

Capitalism does not create innovation. Capitalism is build on making excuses, cutting corners, and taking the easy way out. Pay attention to what you consume, look into which companies have successful unions and which ones don’t. Look at which workers are striking, and how important that is. Quality no longer exists under capitalism.

[manicmikki]

Sprite-like and slightly feral

[giantkillerjack]

the omen is a well-made movie, but it is ultimately a love letter to the catholic idea that some kids are, BY BIRTH, super evil.

as in it is quite literally a movie about a father coming to terms with the fact that the right and good thing to do WOULD in fact be to listen to the Catholic church and murder his son. *WOMP WOMP*

[valenciamidknight]

“Distraction”, July 2024.

[whereserpentswalk]

Someone used "ungood" to describe disney remakes and it's so perfect. "Bad" does not sum up the horrible soulless products created to only fulfil capitalist desires, using artists as tormented vessels, ungood captures it so well.

Artists with passion and vision create bad art. Bad art can have entertaining qualities, and value, and sparks of life inside of them. Teenage fanfic, and b movies, and a young musicians first attempt at smoke on the water are bad, and that's ok. Ungood art does not have the same saving graces as bad art. Ungood art is empty, not just failing at quality but devoid of it.

We need to start using the term ungood. Neither Star Wars episode one, nor Star Was episode nine are good movies, but they don't possess the same lack of quality. The "live action" Lion King movie, and Repo! The Genetic Opera might both be failures at putting musicals on film, but I know which one I'd rather watch, which one still has moments I love, and which one was made to make someone at Disney see a line go up.

[dailyanarchistposts]

X: Dune On Your Luck

Frank Herbert and his wife Beverly settled on six acres on the rural outskirts of Port Townsend, perched on the north-eastern tip of the Olympic Peninsula. While living in the old farmhouse, they built a three level A-frame, and at the top of the A was Frank’s new office, evocative of the massive structure from which Alia looks down at her subjects in Children of Dune. Not only did he write this novel here, he began planning to turn the land into an Ecological Demonstration Project, a place where he could establish a nearly self-sufficient farm and test the practicality of alternative energy sources, such as power from wind, sun, hydrogen and methane.

While living on this farm, Frank wrote his Circle Times, a novel about the history and wars of the Coast Salish peoples. Despite his immense fame, no one wanted to publish it, and when he finally sold the rights to a television studio, they scrapped everything when Frank was trying to remain too true to historical facts, at the expense of drama. Later, having already sold off the film rights to Dune, the producer organizing the whole thing suddenly died, leaving the project in limbo. It was around this time that Frank really plunged into finishing Children of Dune, just as he also brought his mother Babe up to live with him.

Frank Sr. had died in 1968, and Babe had been living in a trailer in Vader, Washington before coming to live full-time in Port Townsend. When people came looking for the famous author in town, the locals pretended not to know where he lived, protected his family’s privacy, and the couple lived in peace with Babe until a fateful day in 1974 when Beverly collapsed and had to be flown across the sea to Seattle. When the doctors finished treating and examining her, the diagnosis was lung cancer, and as her son Brian recalled, two daily packs of Lucky Strikes, a brand having extremely high quantities of tar, nicotine and carbon monoxide, had taken their toll.

Frank centered his life around Beverly, and money became even more precious, so it was with some relief that a French production company decided to film Dune, with the project to be directed by Alejandro Jodorowsky, creator of El Topo and The Holy Mountain. All this brought some money to Frank and Beverly, who was recovering after radiation treatments and became healthy enough to go to Europe with Frank in 1975. Shortly after they returned, the serialized publication of Children of Dune began in Analog magazine, with the entire print run selling out across the US. In the midst of this good news, Beverly relapsed again because of a medication imbalance, but she soon stabilized.

With the sales of Analog as proof, Frank’s editor at Putnam convinced the suits in the skyscraper to print 75,000 hardcover copies of Children of Dune rather than 7,500. This was a first in science-fiction history, and when the third Dune book was released it became a best-seller, requiring the printing of another 50,000 within a few months. Riding high on this windfall, Frank and Beverly went to Paris to check in on Alejandro Jodorowsky, only to find his script would requite a fourteen-hour film, and he had already spent $2 million of the $9.5 million budget. However, when they got back, old time Italian producer Dino De Laurentis offered to buy the rights from the French, and Frank agreed, even being offered the chance to write the script.

Now he and Beverly had lots of money, so Frank took some of the Italian cash and bought a sailboat which he named Ghanima, the daughter of Paul and Chani. With their lives more stable, Frank continued onward with his Ecological Demonstration Project, and created a solar-heat collection system to warm his house. The panels were sandwiches of plywood, thermopane glass, aluminum beer cans, and fiber-glass insulation. This system was enough to heat their house through most of the year, but that was the bulk of the Ecological Demonstration Project, given Frank had too much on his plate. Money was always needed, so he kept writing, and when Star Wars came out in 1977, he was livid at seeing his Dune mercilessly pillaged.

That same year, Bruce came up to Port Townsend for a visit and finally confided in his brother Brian that he was gay. Beyond this, he felt part of his being gay had to with the way their father treated them. As he told Brian, after seeing how Dad treated children, I didn’t want to have any. Like a good brother, Brian kept this confidential, and Bruce soon returned to San Francisco where he made a living fixing and maintaining the instruments of rock and roll bands. Bruce later became involved with Act Up when the AIDS epidemic hit San Francisco, and he lived through one of the darkest times in San Francisco, hardly ever going up north to see his parents.

Meanwhile, his father teamed up with a poet he met in Port Townsend named Bill Ransom and together they started a novel called The Jesus Incident, set on the mostly water world of Pandora. Because it used part of an earlier copy-written story, Frank and Bill had to completely rewrite the story and were unhappy with the results. Nevertheless, The Jesus Incident is far more fluid than Dune, the politics clearer, the ecological themes more pronounced. This burst of money, along with a renewal of the film rights from Italy, allowed Frank and Beverly to begin considering more options, and eventually they decided to move to Hawaii, given they didn’t know how long she’d be around.

In late 1979, Frank began writing what would become God Emperor of Dune, which is possibly the most famous, given the main character Leto II is now a giant sandworm. With the assurance of more money on the horizon, they began construction of a house in Kowloa and during a visit there Bruce turned up, although his mom kept pestering him about getting married. As it turned out, Beverly Herbert was a fan of Ronald Reagan, while Frank Herbert wasn’t, knowing him to be a liar.

As mentioned, Bruce stayed away from Port Townsend in this time period when his father was writing God Emperor of Dune, a chronicle of the tyranny of Leto II, the half-human, half-sandworm Emperor of the galaxy, whose reign is so cruel it eventually causes an event called the Scattering, an exodus of humans into the furthest reaches, something planned for by Leto II. One can’t help but see the flight of Bruce in this Scattering, only rather than the tyrant worm Leto II, he was fleeing the tyrant Frank Herbert. A lot to think about there, assuredly.

In 1980, the famed actor Robert Redford contacted Frank hoping to acquire the film rights to Soul Catcher, and that summer the two had a secret meeting in Port Townsend. While Frank and Beverley were settling into Kowloa, it turned out that Ridley Scott, the director slotted for the Italian produced Dune, had to back out to film Blade Runner, so the film project returned to limbo. Nevertheless, the Herberts were fine in Hawaii, and the new house was solely for Beverly.

It was when they were in Hawaii that Bruce informed his parents he was gay, and according to his brother Brian, they were not at all pleased by this information. From this moment onward, Bruce had little contact with his parents and seems to have never seen Frank again. Meanwhile, the fourth in the Dune series, God Emperor of Dune, had just been released, becoming an instant best-seller, #4 on the New York Times hardcover best-seller list, and a director was finally found for the Dune film, thirty-five year-old David Lynch. Before the first print runs of God Emperor even sold out, Frank was already signing a deal for the fifth volume, Heretics of Dune. Again, all of this money went into making Beverly happy in her last days.

Frank Herbert liked the screenplay David Lynch wrote for Dune, even with all the embellishments, and soon Frank met up with poet Bill Ransom to write a sequel to The Jesus Incident, a novel called the Lazarus Effect, although Bill did most of the writing, given Frank had to be with Beverly. All the while, God Emperor of Dune remained on the hardcover bestseller list throughout 1982, with the publishers milking every last drop of spice before allowing a paperback edition, which wasn’t issued until 1983. Meantime, work on David Lynch’s Dune continued to progress, with Frank enthusiastic about what he saw, and by the summer of 1983, he was paid an insanely large amount of money for the sixth volume of the Dune series, even though Heretics of Dune hadn’t yet been released.

This final volume was titled Chapterhouse: Dune, a title suggested by Beverly, and Frank soon began writing it. After the deal with Robert Redford to make a Soul Catcher film fell through, Frank was approached by Paul Newman and Warner Brothers with a similar deal. However, despite all the big names involved, this film never got off the ground. All of these matters were suddenly dwarfed that fall of 1983 when Beverly suddenly took a turn for the worst. According to Brian Herbert, when his brother Bruce tried to figure out a good time to come visit his dying mother, Frank was delaying in giving him a time that would be convenient. My brother wondered, but did not say so to Dad, if this had anything to do with his homosexuality, which our father had never accepted. Beverly Herbert died on February 7, 1984, and she never saw her youngest son again.

[dashiellqvverty]

everytime i see ppl say that ‘fight club is satirizing/criticizing toxic masculinity, Actually’ i am like. PLEASE put on your big boy thinking caps and watch it again

[chaotic-omnisexual-squirrel]

it's wild how much stuff that is considered "the norm" or even "creative" and "sophisticated" in film today, just came from people having like, no money.

on location shooting is pretty much the standard for big film companies nowdays, but that came from italy post ww2, because people were poor and pissed off and we're like hey, we have all these ruined buildings. may as well put them to good use. then french new wave got wind of that and stole it and made it french so it's fancy and more acceptable. then hollywood was like, "shit, people like this more than our same five studio setups" and also stole it.

lots of lighting conventions that are in horror films and crime films came from filmmakers in germany in the 1920s and 30s, who were again, completely broke. but then they had to flee germany because of the war and found hollywood and the emerging film noir directors were like "oh, they're fucking on to something". and the germans were like, "thanks, we didn't have any fucking lighting" but hollywood was just like "oooh, the symbolism" and then post ww2 decided to use the SAME FUCKING TECHNIQUES to create villains out of anyone vaguely from or associated with germany.

and everything you read about this stuff is like "oh it proves how this movement was important to create a lasting impression" and yeah, could be that. personally i think it's more like, hollywood likes to steal shit that they know does well. they're too scared to try new things because they care more about profit than making films. they started as well meaning but then realized that profit tastes a lot better and became a machine for war propaganda. then realized there's not a market for that when there's not a war. now they make a lot of their money off remakes and stories that everyone's heard a million times before. it's why queerbaiting became a thing, because they started realizing that films with queer themes sold; because people love a scandal. and it's what is so frustrating about the film industry at the moment, because big companies want money and something that is easily marketable; and that is films with simple plots, a minimal amount of symbolism and metaphor, a message that is progressive but not too progressive (i.e. one that understands the problem but doesn't tell people how to solve the problem), bends but doesn't break prewritten rules, and doesn't focus too hard on people who won't give them the money they want.

[gryficowa]

I came to mention that Marvel is owned by Disney and Disney supported Israel, so we are boycotting Disney

I'm giving you an additional reason to boycott (And I'm angry that Pixar's movie about emotions, the continuation of the previous movie, was a success, even a bomb, which means that Disney got the money)

So in short, Marvel belongs to Disney, and Disney supported Israel financially and even bragged about it, so if you type "Disney support Israel" on the Internet, you will see his message and how he brags about it)

So fuck Disney, not for "Woke", but for supporting Israel, for censoring the creators, for recording in the area next to labor camps during the filming of "Mulan", fuck him for everything

TOH proved that diversity is not Disney's problem and right-wing conservatives call it "Woke" I give depth to the characters, the problem is queerbaiting and paying for anti-LGBT+ organizations

Disney is a disgusting capitalist company that only thinks about making money (Pocahontas and how much they romanticized white crimes and antagonized the tribe because they are angry and aggressive towards innocent white colonizers… And this romance, which is problematic, because it was based on a book by a man who distorted the facts and the real Pocahontas gave him a hard time for what he wrote in the book)

This movie proved that Disney counts on money, not on quality and creative freedom (Because "Beauty and the Beast" won an Oscar, it must get it too, fuck the fact that the movie is distasteful to those who learn about this girl's story)

Disney has so much shit on its conscience that it's no wonder it gave money to the colonizer

So yes, boycott the movie not only because of the characters depicting Israel, but also because Marvel belongs to Disney

[civildisorderstream]

2023, The Year of Self-Sabotage

Has anyone noticed the trend businesses have been on in 2023? There's a LOT of self-sabotage going on in the business world. Throughout my life, and everyone else has their own observations too, once in a while you see a company make a boneheaded decision about their product or service. And once in a while you'll see a decision get made that is bad, but maybe it at least has some justification (even to an anti-capitalist goober like myself). But this year has been nonsensical moves of greed or product/service sabotage that make no sense for longevity or harm what's in the best interest of the consumer.

Activision-Blizzard: The Overwatch debacle, and Diablo Immortal's scummy practices.

Netflix: The account sharing debacle.

Twitter: Maximum divorced loser Elon Musk destroying its functionality and branding and we still call it Twitter.

Reddit: Inspired by Musk's stupidity, the API tools debacle. Shame on the Reddit communities for not knowing how to strike btw (you don't put a time limit on it).

Hollywood: Pulling shows and films from streaming services to declare them as failed products and somehow get a tax write-off for it.

Also Hollywood: Willing to take quarterly losses greater than the annual cost to meet the demands of two striking unions put together.

Unity: Announced in the past day that it will charge developers a fee for installations because greed.

Titan Submersible: "Safety is for losers" says billionaire who proceeds to use his shoddy tech to do a murder-suicide.

Starbucks: Breaking ALL of the labor laws to try and stop unionization. Admittedly a reach to be on this list but the situation (like all the others) is ongoing and can compound.

Embracer: A massive corporate company that bought a bunch of smaller companies. Thought a 2 billion dollar deal with the Saudi government was a sure thing, so they spent 2 billion dollars on stuff. Deal falls through, so they start closing companies they acquired.

That's just the ones I can remember off the top of my head. These aren't business decisions done for the sake of consumers. These are all decisions done to spite consumers or the workers who produce the products and services.

People try to remember years as being the "year of" something. And it's a thing I do too. For me, 2023 is the year of corporate self-sabotage.

[girlberrie]

hi!!!!! i’m sam, and that is not my real name. i was born in 2007 and i am eighteen years old. i’m turkish and prefer she her pronouns.

i am incapable of picking my favorite song but the song that always makes me cry is slipping through my fingers by abba. its devastating for me. my favorite book is dune: messiah and i like to think that i haven’t watched my favorite film yet (i can’t pick one). my role model is monkey d. luffy from one piece because i love that little guy. i overthink a lot and being social is difficult for me but just know that i am trying my damn best!!!!!

i love music. i love physics (i hate studying it). i love dancing in my room and pretending that i’m having a concert. i love reading. i like finding obscure pieces of knowledge on the internet. i love making myself a mary sue in my realities. i love some good food. i love unironically saying ‘lol’ and the dry ‘haha’.

i love many things but i hate most people because they disappoint me. and i’d rather not have disappointing people interacting with this blog, so here is the dni criteria: bigots, die-hard capitalists, elitists, TERFs, people who don’t respect privacy, bullies, ‘apoliticals’, zionists, ass kissers of fascism, ass kissers of generative AI, anti-shifters. if you are self aware enough to see yourself on this list, kindly fuck off. do not interact.

i first heard of shifting in the year 2020 and i have shifted!!! once, and i shifted back to tell you guys about it, but i’m permashifting the next time i shift. i have many realities i wish to shift to, some that float around my head as vague ideas, some that i make scripts or pin boards for, some that i think i forgot about but come back in full force annually, and some that are my roman empires. i won’t promise introduction posts or generally any posts about these realities because i am lazy and i do what i want.

that’s all!!!! hope you enjoy my blog haha 💗

[pocket-deer-boy]

i think every post about how the movie robots (2005) is actually leftist should come with the addendum that the movie does a transmisogynist caricature and that by any metric the movie doesn't even pass the status of being anti-capitalist and its critique of capitalism boils down to a return to an older way of living, and in the end the film comes across much more conservative okay can i just be honest i think the movie sucks and the leftist posting about it is embarassing