Discourse Of Discontent

His men called him Fartin' Farnie

Sir Admiral Farnsworth Lord Haha Billingsly III, Esq was a man of treasonous rank and serpentine wit which, of course, made his counsel highly treasured in the court of non-public opinion. In a room of golden inlays - for the value of one's surroundings proves the value of the one - he ruled the hearts of the heartless who had the stone cold gall to seek positions of the utmost trust knowing full well the discontent of the their disposition and whose ships stay afloat by swells of public dissonance and whose inflamed minds have no family but those on to whom blame can be placed.

"We must hide, ladies and gentlemen, inside the caverns of cruelty and hollows of hate in the hearts our fellow man. This is where the strings of power connect us to our puppets who, once firmly in our bidding, will decry it freedom to choose slavery! In the mirror they refuse to face, we paint them portraits of prestige they trust will fool our Maker and thus be safe in their consuming of life. Seek ye to keep ye blind.

"In this way, no future is possible - making it ours. So what matter what we do? Live a life one cannot rue! With this intoxication we control the world! With the reckless conviction of the inebriated and secular certainty of religious solemnity, they will, at our command, jump off the cliffs of despair, cheering us, flying our flags on the way to doom. In their suicide they will find meaning and purpose and direction so desperately craved yet zealously refused.

It's a feature not a bug

"After we contrive disasters inevitable, then do we protest with the greatest of outrage equaled only by the impotence of irreversibility. We are the Great Protectors, stomping out honesty in every quarter, railing against truth in every form - be it science, sex, or sorcery - and protesting injustice as the savior for our way of life.

"If I were to walk out of here onto the grand public plaza with my penis exposed to the world I'd be forever shamed and discarded. But if we propose murder, arson, rape - for their "enemies" today, (for them tomorrow!) - we'll be as untouchable as the clouds. So fuck 'em! Fuck 'em all! Fuck every last one of them. They both deserve and crave our contempt. Embrace the fullness of moral hypocrisy as the weapon of war that crushes the roots of hope.

"And have no reservation, Hope is our truest enemy. War and hate are the fuel for our fire. Forget the ostensible arguments you hear droning on, Life is nothing more than a battle for deserving love. Self respect cannot be tolerated! It's a battle that must be won at any cost. We don't have to win the reality, just the argument. Then we make the argument reality. That is how we win the world. That is how we win life."

Filet De Soul

Nothing is happening tomorrow but I have to pretend there is. Nothing will be said tomorrow but I have to pretend to hear. Nothing will be learned tomorrow but I have to pretend to grow.

I am the invited Uninvited.

Few here at the Filet De Sole mega-chain know much of my story. To the diners I'm just the busboy. My co-workers have their own worries and/or lives. To the corporation I'm just another cog.

It's obvious I should have meant more to myself somewhere along the line. Woe to the nonbeliever.

Corporate honchos are arriving tomorrow so it's all-hands-on-deck for the closed door afternoon meeting. As part of that, HR will want to discuss my career options. How do I tell them first I need a career?

As my heart sinks into darkest depths, I'll be informed of the "exciting opportunity" of being cross-trained as a dishwasher. From there, who knows? On to meal prep then one day maybe even fry cook.

One thing's for sure in life when you're on the wrong path: the abuse only piles higher.

Living the dream

It's been over twenty years since I went to film school. Art takes heart, and soul, and commitment. They don't tell you that until after you pay your tuition.

I still go to film festivals to be tortured by the life I ran away from. My own film dreams, of course, are a state secret. When I'm there, I'm the uninvited Invited.

I tried to manifest some money to get me out of this hell. The universe responded with a 14 cent check (literally). I guess you can only get out what you put in.

History will be made tomorrow. You heard it here first. Another part of me will die, another tear in heaven for the weeping angels. Only they write my true story.

On a side note, last Saturday, sometime in the eight o'clock hour I took a forbidden peek up from a table to see the sun break through the distant cloud formations. Had they known what was happening, the diners would have left their seats and crowded the large plate glass windows. It was a Portal Beam to the dream dimension. True, you can't stay there but any chance to visit is to be taken, like finding water in the desert. It's the only place where good things don't have to end and life never fails.

Two Ships That List In The Night

Two ships that list in the night,
Must pull together to win their fight;
Apart they sink in waters black,
Waiting for their hulls to crack.

Pity the eyes that see Divine,
Neither launch the saving line;
Aboard the ships sad adults cry,
Little children asking why.

Is it shame or fear or pride?
Who's the soul to admit they've lied?
Having cut the lines but twice,
Who would dare to make it thrice?

"Of this woe, we do tire!"
Deadly shots of panic fire;
Choosing not to end the pain,
Increases ranks of strained insane.

Missing missing missing hope,
On the decks a coiled rope;
In the day they wrecked their dream,
So into the night they do scream.

It's OK To Let Bond Die

From Thunderball, on Bond being informed of the emergency meeting:

Moneypenny: Ah-huh - in the conference room. Every 00 in Europe has been rushed in, and the Home Secretary too.
Bond: Somebody's probably lost a dog.

Can anyone possibly imagine an irreverent quip like that from Bond (or any hero figure) today?? Most are humorless, or what comedy there is is forced and phony. Far as I'm concerned, Bond died on 9/11 when it was decided to re-invent him as Loser-Bond, 'cause he so baaad, as the times seem to require. The new Bond doesn't know the difference between cockiness and mean-spiritedness. Craig was the anti-Bond, repressed and joyless, a poser. But I won't judge those who had commercial demands to be met.

The original Bond - the Bond of the books - was a character who answered to himself; entering into the service a compromise. Unlike Bourne, he questioned himself on following orders to kill on another man's say-so. Ultimately, he would have shaken those shackles because he knew he had a duty to himself as well as Queen and country. You see, killing without losing your humanity is a tricky feat; one lives in rarefied air.

Mundo Nulla Fides
(Have no faith in the world)

That Latin phrase was embossed on the letterhead of real life spy Sidney Reilly, one inspiration for Bond. That more nuanced view of the world has taken hold and is only getting stronger every day. From the film Shooter:

"There is no head to cut off. It's a conglomerate. If one of them betrays the principles of the accrual of money and power, the others betray him. What it is is human weakness. You can't kill that with a gun."

Killing bad guys through targeted attrition to make us "safe" is outdated and archaic thinking. Years ago I saw a hilarious article on the number of movie posters showing one lone figure who will save the world for us! That illusion is more than tired too. As I explained in Zatoichi Principle Addendum, no one is going to save us, no matter how much we ram that time-worn lie down our throats.

One great aspect of the Bond films actually is how they've been used to reflect the times in which they were made. Given that, the next 007 will be mandated to be a non-binary, non-white, politically-correct, sign-holding protester so he can be "inclusive" and lobby the world as to what is right and wrong on the assumption the world cannot know without him. Oh dear God, please let him rest in peace before that happens.

When asked what he was going to do after the war, Ian Fleming enthusiastically replied he was going to "write the spy story to end all spy stories!" Part of him truly believed in the Bond fantasy and its other-worldliness. Part of me does too. But how to write of a dreamer in a world that has become a raging nightmare?

At best, we have the Ukraine example. A nation full of heroes fighting to save the day. In Zatoichi Challenged, the Edo-era blind swordsman Zatoichi fights to protect an innocent couple from being killed by a Shogunate samurai sent to kill them. Unfortunately, in the middle of the battle with the samurai, another bad guy sneaks up also intent on killing the couple. Zatoichi flings his sword to kill the man, leaving him defenseless against the samurai's blade. At that point, he can only fight with his heart.

So maybe in the next Bond, he has become disillusioned (come on, who wants to die for that Boris Johnson asshole??), left the service, and committed himself to his life, as each of us has to in the end. Of course, no one else believes he will stay out of the fray (whatever fray there is) so he's attacked, and forced to defend his corner of the world. And that's all anyone can do, defend our small corners of the world, even when we have no weapons like Zatoichi against the government agent, we speak and act from the heart, that which will never die.

Don't worry about the lack of subtitles. Greatest sword fight of all time.