Saturday, December 08, 2012
Begging for Censorship
Saturday Nite Live tonite broadcast at least three appalling bits that should never have made it on air. Even the opening political skit, which posited President Obama selling out the people, from misplaced pity for a (supposedly) bullied Speaker Boehner, was in poor taste. But when host Jamie Foxx did his monolog, he joked about killing all the white people in his new movie. What the ... ? The audience did not immediately groan or boo, so I turned the TV off in a rage. SINCE WHEN IS GENOCIDAL, RACIST MASS MURDER FUNNY? Let's reverse the premise, and posit a white comedian joking about killing all the black people in his movie. Would we be laffing that off?
+
Michael Richards merely used the "N-word" and almost lost his career. Would he already have been rehabilitated if he had instead shouted that black people should be killed? I don't think so. But Jamie Foxx can exult in murdering all the white people in his movie and not be considered a monster, a public enemy to be cast out of society? He can't get away with that with me.
+
I turned the TV back on later, in time to catch the "Weekend Update" segment, and was again astounded at the insanity broadcast by SNL. "Mrs. [Santa] Claus" performed a routine that was not just grotesque and tasteless but also astoundingly raunchy — about Santa Claus!
+
The first sketch after "Weekend Update" was, again, weirdly degenerate, an insane bit about a black man going from pimping 'hos' to pimping Christmas trees. I turned the TV off again, and did not return to SNL for the remainder of the "show" — a display of ugly madness. What demented loser comes up with such off-the-wall-nuts garbage? And how does s/he persuade a reputable television program to indulge such lunacy?
+
I could see how people who cut themselves off from others might get lost in a world of their own most bizarre daydreams — or nitemares. That's what happens to too many writers in Hollywood, who live entirely within the incestuous world of fiction, cut off from real people because they go from a group of imitation-people (actors and other writers) who deal constantly with fiction to their home by car, isolated from other people not of their choosing. They are insulated against fresh inputs, and listen only to their own choice of music in their own little universe while on the road. They cut themselves off from their roots, which gave them early inspiration. They leave their hometown, their childhood friends, their family. They don't see how things turn out in the real world, and have no idea of how things work in real human interactions. They quickly exhaust their stock of memories of actual experiences. Their new experiences, with hollow people lost in fiction, are devoid of substance. They have to go farther and farther into their own fantasies, because they have no realities — esp., as so often happens, if they also descend into alcoholism and, worse, use of consciousness-altering drugs.
+
But Saturday Nite Live is made in New York, and its writers presumably are not isolated in a world of fiction. They walk on sidewalks and take buses and subways, surrounded by real people. They see what people around them are doing. They hear bits of conversation from passersby and people at the counter in the pizza parlor or the next table in a restaurant filled with people from many different industries, not just entertainment — people who live in the real world, not in idle fantasy.
+
Yes, these writers now resident in New York may have left their hometown friends and maintain only minimal contact with their family. And many may drink too much and use drugs. But surely they shouldn't need to go far outside all bounds of reality to come up with comedy. Still, they are part of an industry filled with insane degenerates, and are influenced by the culture of ugly madness that dominates the entertainment industry. And it's not just the American entertainment industry. All filmic media seem to attract degenerates, who seek to destroy the power of their nitemares over them by fleshing them out on screen, expelling them from their own mind to the screen and sharing them with others.
+
In one of the commercials that followed "Weekend Update", a trailer for a current movie shows an animated teddy bear humping something or other. Isn't that deliteful? No, it's not deliteful, nor charming, nor funny, nor remotely respectable at all.
+
Another commercial was for yet another idiotic Hobbit movie, one more proof that the popular culture has descended into infantile madness. Another commercial was for that Jamie Foxx movie that glorifies anti-white, racist mass murder.
+
Almost all films today are hyperviolent and/or infantile and/or obscene. Add in bizarre alterations of the absurd fictitious creatures vampires, werewolves, and ghosts. How is any of this crap supposed to enliten us about the human condition, or relate to people's actual lives in any way? It's as tho the target audience for American (and British/New Zealand/Australian) movies today is a 10-year old sexual pervert who is lost in a world of sado-masochistic violence, filled with explosions and death. That is what passes for entertainment today. Such things don't get me singing, "That's entertainment!"
+
What has happened to the popular culture of the United States that such hideous monstrousness can get on air over a major television network? Islamists are denounced here for censorship of all material that does not meet the standards of Moslem morality. And their condemnation of American culture, as degenerate and offensive to God, is asserted to be extreme and intolerant. But you know what? Except for the assertion that much of what is produced by American popular culture is an offense to (nonexistent) "God", the Islamist critics of American popular culture are right. This country's cultural outputs ARE dominantly toxic now.
+
What has happened to this country? Where are the churches, moralists, ethicists who used to guide us thru the storm of madness? We are now lost in a perpetual Superstorm of insane, violent, apocalyptic, sado-masochistic fantasy. What harvest shall we have when we reap this whirlwind?