Tits of Terror

Recently I saw this movie called "the Wicker Man". If any of you are thinking "oh yeah man, that's a classic, the greatest soft porn/cult thriller musical ever" and so on and so forth, let me just nip that in the bud right now: I'm talking about the Nick Cage version, m'kay? You know, the one that's so horribly awful that killing yourself (slowly, with a piece of papyrus) seems like a more pleasurable alternative? Right, now we're on the same page.

So, now that we've established that we're talking about a pretty rottensome moving picture, the question still remains: Why am I blogging about it? There's a million movies out there bad enough to warrant suicide, and it probably takes more time and effort writing a post like this than "the Wicker Man" took from idea to finished product. So, why I am spending my, and your, valuable time on this? The answer is simple: Because it pissed me the fuck off.

Now, I'm as chauvinistic as the next male, and this movie still managed to offend me on these simple grounds: It's pure misogynist drivel from start to finish. My oh my, Billy-Bob, that's a big word, you might think. But basically, I'm offended by the movies latent (well, maybe "obvious" would be a more fitting word) view of women-folk. As some of you may know, women is a race of creatures closely related to people. This movie, however, treats them as suckling at the teets of Satan herself, or even worse, whipping out said teets for themselves to suckle (the observant reader will deduct that I'm actually claiming the movie depicts women sucking their own tits while feeding small children dismembered phalloses (phalli?), which is not as far off the mark as one might expect).

There are many ways in which one gets this impression. The most prominent is the peculiar way the island which the protagonist (Nick the Dick) visits is run by women. By women! The disgrace! There must be something foul afoot! Don't worry, there sure is. All the men are lame ducks (or limp dicks, whatever you prefer), and all the women are mysterious and scary. Their leaders are strong in that feminine, cowardly way; they are master manipulators. But when push comes to show, they are physically inferior to, and easily beaten up by, the mighty man. I'm not kidding you here, Mr. Penis gracefully kicks the asses of several women for no apparent reason (in one stand-out scene he walks up to his daughter, who's tied to a tree, and punches a woman standing next to her in the face. He does this despite the fact that he's a police officer with a badge and a gun, and the woman makes no threatening gestures aside from, possibly, secretly considering menstruating on his leg. If memory serves, which I have a hard time actually believing myself, he is also, in said scene, dressed as a bear).

There is, however, one woman who's not a murdering psycho on this island. She is Nickys ex-wife, and is quite the independent lady, more than capable of looking after herself and her daughter..
KIDDING! She's scared, a pussy (quite literally) who needs the MAN before she's able to do anything, let alone going to the toilet or step across a tiny puddle. Only she's not, really. She's just fucking with him. And his daughter, as well. They're ALL fucking with him. Just like all women constantly fuck with all men. You know they can't be trusted. Luckily we're strong enough to give them bleeding bitches a good old thrashing! In fact, I say all of us manly men go out RIGHT NOW, and TAKE IT TO THE STREETS! CAN YOU DIG IT?

...

..sorry about that, I got a bit carried away. Anyway, to recap:

The message of the movie is this: Women are all worshippers of some strange, old alien-god, devouring and feeding on masculine energy, and they despise all healthy values like physical strength, logic, and fetishist porn. In fact, one day, when artificial insemination of men becomes possible, we should just wipe them all out. Meanwhile, if we can't imprison them, at least we can continue to oppress them. And let's just pray they never get any real power.

'Cause then we'll all burn.

Six Degrees of Speculation

I generally don't follow the news. This is not only because I'm some spoiled youth wallowing in my own decadence, but mostly because I think it's badly plotted, the characters are cardboard cut-outs, and there's way too little nudity. Besides, every time I turn the fucking thing on, whatever's there pisses me way the fuck off almost instantly.
Example: The Manuela Ramin-Osmundsen case. Wait, make that: The latest Manuela Ramin-Osmundsen case (there was one earlier, causing her to have to step down from some important job or other. No biggie, really, and absotively, posilutely no connection to this one whatsoever. Seriously. It's not like there's a lot of politicians and media types in this country who dislikes her strongly, or anything. That's crazy talk!). Of course, this is a local case, for local people, so I should probably explain some things first, before diving dick-first into the hay ball of insanity that is: The Media Circus. Here all week!

Here we go: Miss Manuela, who is the minister of children and family (no fucking way am I gonna bother finding the correct English phrases for these people. I may not have a life, but I have movies to watch and commercials to shout at) in Norway hired this lawyer-woman, Ida Hjort-Kraby for the position of children's rights watchdog. Big mistake! Turns out they know each other already! Who'd've thunk it? Women! Lawyers! Knowing each other! In a country wherein lives a massive 5 million! Call the papers! Wait, they did! And so the joke ends and reality begins.

Moving on: Some reports started to surface, the point here being that Manuela was supposed to be close and personal with this beast-woman, thereby making herself inhabile in all hiring matters and whatnot. Anyway, politicians and media alike descended on this rotting carcass of a pointless case like investigative carrion-eaters. The next few days (that is last few days, by the way), Norwegian papers were flooded with headliners like this: "WERE AT THE SAME PARTY IN 1998", "USES THE SAME PLUMBER", "ATTENDS NEIGHBORING MUFF-DIVING CLUBS" and so on. I kid you (almost) not! They had all sorts of charts and shit, reading them was like watching a snake trying to give directions while slowly going insane.

Time for the conclusion: The women know each other, and they have for 20 years or so. They may be friends, but they're certainly not muff-diving together (and we all know that's what true friends are for). Manuela might've known the law-rider as a capable one, maybe even as a pleasant individual, or maybe not. Who cares. Society has been contact-driven for millennia, and so far it's worked out well enough. I mean, maybe we have some clubs of, oh, say, politicians, artists, baby seal washers and what have you, but it's not exactly Eastern Europe, is it? Actually, when I think about it, this is hardly news at all - people in power hiring acquaintances for equally high-powered jobs? Haha, silly, silly media, whatever were you thinking?

Wait a second. You don't think..? No, that's impossible.. isn't it? It couldn't be.. could it?

The reason this case has made such a hot fuzz, there's absolutely no chance it's because they're women, is it? And that Manuela is coloured, and from a country that is not, and never will be, Norway?

...

..no, of course not. That's crazy talk.

Fear is the Fun-Filler

I tell you, people are afraid of everything. Just the other day, I was talking to a colleague when the conversation turned to VHS players, and I offered the insightful bit of trivia that a friend of mine reputedly owns wall-to-wall of horror films in this jurassic-era video format. Why I said this I have no idea, but it's my general impression that everyone enjoys spouting useless bits of information, constantly, and so I guess I do, too. Anyway, no matter why I said it, I certainly did not expect a reaction like the one she had: She was surprised that someone would watch that many horror films, and wondered if he still is right in the head. She actually seemed to believe that watching lots and lots of video nasties would automatically turn one into a babbling psychotic child-molester or something. I had to assure her that, not only is he still somewhat sane, he is also probably the most likable person I know. This may say something about my circle of friends, but that's beside the point. I also felt it would be wise to inform her that I, myself, probably saw more R-rated movies when I was 12 than I've done since I turned 18. Since I presently work as a middle-school teacher this information should probably not have been disclosed, but what can you do?

I can understand the worry that young children might (allow me to stress the maybe here) be influenced by watching violent movies, or playing violent games, or listening to classical music. But if people start to assume that naughty art automatically makes naughty people, we, and by "we" I mean society in general, have got ourselves a serious problem. Debating what effect violent imagery could have on someones mind, be it a child or just some simpleton like yourself, is justifiable. But slandering isn't. If you can't think twice about something before you make up your mind, then you don't deserve the right to. If you want to live in fear, go live underneath a rollercoaster. Stop worrying about things you aren't qualified to worry about, because if you do, you make your whole culture seem like it's fostering idiots. And you don't want that, do you? We sure don't.

Do you have an Ironic Erection yet? Because mine is massive. After all, why do we watch horror films? Well, aside from getting our sadistic, misogynistic kicks, I mean? To be frightened. And if you've become too hardened and can't get your scares anymore, at least you can console yourself with the fact that the way you choose to spend your (hopefully deserved) spare time induces nightmares in middle-aged housewives all over the world.

Yeah, I thought you'd like that.

Youtube Interlude

This is just plain weird. At first I thought it was supposed to be ironic, and then I realised it simply needs more cowbell..

..okay, so when you're done with that link, you need to see this.

Enough.