The Ecstasy of Tits; The Agony of Paranormal Activity 2.

Dear reader: I had no intention of writing on this 'matter'. However, I found myself troubled by the issues it raised - so troubled by the thoughts which were vacillating in my mind, that I took to writing: as a therapeutic exercise - a means of clarifying and codifying my thoughts and feelings.
A while later, I found I had written enough, and of sufficient significance, to warrant the re-drafting which takes place in the process of typing my words into this blog.

Hence, here is documentation of the inner turmoil which unfolded after I had watched the motion picture Paranormal Activity 2 on Saturday night.

The first film - Paranormal Activity - had something to recommend it: tits. Joyful, life-affirming, satiating tits.
I remember watching that film at the cinema: transfixed by the metaphysical allure of the cleavage of the woman jerk-off; it was one of those rare moments in life: where the individual Will co-incided with the universal Will, and all was well with my existence.

If you're a man of cultured pallette, and refined tastes, dear reader, then you will understand me - and the joy and one-ness of carnal pleasure with the fairer sex - perfectly.
Contemplating this woman's transcendent cleavage extinguished the desire which Schopenhauer asserts characterises our lives as Willing, striving beings, and which we can otherwise only allay through art or music; indeed: was it not Aristotle who asserted that art is the attempt by man to recreate the beauty he sees in nature? And is it not the case that woman is - of necessity - the summum bonum of male views of beauty? All other aspects of the male are posterior...


Paranormal Activity 2 is so heinous an attempt to acquire money - such a gratuitous, unnecessary, banal, film, that I wonder whether it should be regarded as 'the straw that broke the camel's back', and thus the rallying cry for a wave of revolutionary mass-suicides across the globe, by the impotent, disenfranchised, nihilistic masses.
Yes: I think there is some merit in the idea that all of those who have paid to see this expletive should 'drink the Kool-Aid' - that those pessimists responsible for this movie should never again profit from such a travesty, and be vindicated in their bleak assessment of mankind.
So just as defeated samurai once redeemed themselves - to some degree - by ritual disembowelment, when it had become clear that they were unsuited to life, so too should we at long last acknowledge the blindingly obvious, and take responsibility for the same failure.
God help us.

The premiss of its forebear (Paranormal Activity) was that a couple of jerk-offs started experiencing some 'ghostly' activity in their home...I guess I would surmise that they experience 'abnormal activity'.
So this abnormal activity turns out to be a ghost/demon fucking about, and the woman jerk-off is all like 'This ghost has followed me all my life - no big deal'; but my anecdotal experience - that of a bored, indifferent man, with a low tolerance for bullshit - shouldn't be relied on as a source for this; instead, let us defer to 'Wikipedia':

'Katie claims that a ghostly presence has haunted her since her youth and believes that it has followed her to their new home. She hires a psychic, Dr. Fredrichs (Mark Fredrichs), who assesses that she is being haunted not by a ghost, but by a demon. He says the demon feeds off negative energy, and its intent is to haunt and torment Katie no matter where she goes. Before leaving, he advises them not to taunt or communicate with the demon'

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paranormal_Activity_%28film%29#Plot

Please keep this in mind, as it is a critical point when considering the premiss and events of the 'prequel', Paranormal Activity 2: the Banality of Evil.

Like Paranormal Activity, the 'prequel' adheres diligently to the formula of having a build-up of numerous days/nights where it's all like 'Things are normal'...then a little 'off-kilter'...then eventually they go fully 'crazy' (This film is so devastatingly formulaic, in fact, that I hear Nestlé have contacted those responsible, in the hopes that they will create a new baby formula with which to eradicate children in the third world.).
However, in this faeces-strewn 'thing that should not be', the 'build-up' portion of the film is taken to un-hilarious extremes, and the film seems to consist of a build-up to the end credits - or a list of the criminals responsible, and their specific role in The Outrage, as I see it; it's like they want us to kill ourselves.


So anyhow, for some reason - sorry: someone went on the internet and found out the true fact that if this idiotic shit happens, then as surely as seven follows six, it's a demon who is after somebody's first-born son which is the cause; ghosts dick you about, yes - but only demons get this serious!
Where was I...?
Oh right: so for this internet-based reason, that never-introduced, plot-advancing, generic boyfriend character tells us (the enfeebled peons), the pool-cleaning robot cleans up the side of the pool and gets out every night. Fuck me! I think I heard a toilet flush, and my body's will to keep me breathing go down with somebody's 12-inch log...


On about day 20 (I stopped paying attention to the day numbers after the Mexican nanny was fired/evicted without ever having received a verbal or written warning*...), anyway, all these cupboards open at the same time in front of this woman - meaning that there's no doubt that a real-life demon has come up from the Gateway to Hell in the basement.
But these people still do nothing: there is never even a serious discussion of their predicament, or possible solutions. In place of this staple of such standard fare 'motion pictures' as this tripe, the daughter character occasionally looks at something on the internet (I guess a character in a film using a contemporary tool makes that film forward-thinking and innovative. I really do want to choke these bastards to death.); and when the woman is finally, and undoubtedly (to the man) possessed, the man calls his evicted/fired/dispossessed/deported Mexican slave back to give her professional advice (because the spells she cast earlier had worked great thus far!).


So The Mexican is all like 'You have to pass the curse (like "the Dutchie") to the (left-hand) side': you can't escape the debt owed to the demon, but you can pas it to another family member - the sister who is the focus of Paranormal Activity, and who observes in that one that the demon has been giving her shit her entire life. 
If these 'film-makers' had any decency whatsoever, they would have given viewers Kool-Aid on their way out of the cinema.

...although, come to mention it: most of the people in the cinema laughed their bollocks off. 


*(Credit goes out to my main man Craig Doughty for pointing out this little fuck-up on the part of these 'film-makers'.)

'The X Factor'

Today I would like to give my thoughts on the yearly outrage that befalls the UK: 'The X Factor'.

'faecal material'

Due to the unflinching, unwavering, unflagging - unstinting - support, and attention given to this hideousness, year after year, I am moved to comment, that I might improve my disposition some, having done so, as one does after the passing of a kidney stone, or a cumbersome piece of faecal material: I have taken this vileness into my body, and rather than having it fester, I aim to purge it like the pestilence that it is.

So much for the preamble; onto my objections...

Early episodes of 'The X Factor' largely consist of people being humiliated for the sake of the viewer.
Yes: probably the most popular TV show in Britain, in 2010 (the last series averaging some 13 million viewers, out of a population of 60 million people - that is: almost a quarter of people in the UK), consists in human beings having their dreams destroyed, their hearts broken, and their singing ability thoroughly mocked; they put their hearts on the line only to have them crushed - while millions laugh.

'social pariahs'

In the olden days, things like this used to mean something: they put the freak in the cage, and people used to laugh - they used to stand wild-eyed, and they'd point, and they'd laugh: both disgusted and intrigued.
...what have we become?
Do we not owe even this common courtesy to people anymore? Is 'The X Factor's' humiliation validated on the grounds that the freaks are no longer compelled through being social pariahs, and destitute, to get in the cage - that rather, they choose to be treated in this way - even going to great expense (queuing for hours on end) for the chance to be made a spectacle of?

'Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered?'
- George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four

 

These early 'auditions' consist of this - and also, some genuine scum of the earth: real soul-less wretches, who would know neither emotion nor intellect if it introduced itself with the aid of a children's television show (the type that repeatedly, and simplistically, explains something fundamental to human life).
The later 'rounds' see only such insincere automata - dyed-in-the-wool conformists, to be sure - vie to be the machine which receives and carries out instructions which it does not understand - either in themselves, or in context - while the 'proles' (proletariat) root for one, and against others...the competitive, destructive instinct is thus fostered, and given an outlet - one that is sanctioned not only in legal terms (by the government/law permitting this atrocious 'show'), but in social, moral ones: nobody is condemned, or told to be ashamed of this behaviour; rather, it is regarded as normal, with nearly a quarter of human beings in the State regularly choosing to participate.

In these later rounds - beginning with 'boot camp' (which one freak compared to a different type of camp: a concentration camp) - the freaks are 'eliminated' at a much lower rate; and when told they're out, the process is made as long-winded and agonising for them as possible - as a result, the viewer's pleasure is as sweet and heightened as possible...this is entertainment.

'convict'

The convict (Cheryl Cole) even said, in the latest episode, 'I think she thought she was going through' after subjecting one troglodyte to this treatment, and disposing of it like a malingering turd you resent all the more for its malingering; it was in total shock...you could see the deadness in its eyes (I doubt that any viewers noticed this, as it was sincere emotion, and not a mere contrivance).

The ultimate goal, of course, of these soul-less, anencephalic animals, is to 'sing', and 'be sexy', while giving the pretense that this is sincere, and borne of an understanding of what they are doing. Not only is the message sent by what they are singing, and focus on their exterior physical appearance, abhorrent, but the tragedy is compounded by the fact that they do not understand that this is what they are doing! They regard what they are doing as worthwhile - necessary, even!
I can sympathise with a thick person whose most basic will, and impulse, is decent - they are kind, recognise their limits, and so forth - but one whose will is as vile, base, and self-serving as these vermin, I cannot accept.

'turd in the punchbowl'

A case in point is 'Cheryl Cole' - convicted violent criminal the Nation's Sweetheart. This pig - this vile wretch - this human obscenity - this turd in the punchbowl of mankind - has never done anything of note: is having no choice but to look a certain way a talent? Is that an achievement?
If so, were the racists right to marginalise those born with black skin all along?! Shouldn't white people be proud of their fantastic achievement of having the dumb fucking luck to be born with white skin?
She seems to me, so conscious of the pretense she has to contrive, that I am reminded of Winston Smith in Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four, where he speaks of the need to maintain a fixed expression upon the face, lest you be 'found out' for who you really are, and what you are thinking...
The most insane, maddening thing is, people have bought her pathetic, pessimistic act, and regard this violent criminal as a suitable role model for children!
How can we expect to look our children in the eye when they ask us what we did with the world, and why? Don't we owe them more than this!?!

'mongoloids'

This contrived, superficial, insincere drivel, is lapped up by The People - while sincere art, made for its own sake, due to necessity - the necessity to express yourself, and avail yourself of what you think and feel (for an excellent example of this, please watch the film The Lives of Others) - is left to languish, neglected....how can any argument be made that this is just? I defy anybody to watch 'The X Factor' (or listen to an album one of the previous 'winning' mongoloids has made), and The Lives of Others, and tell me that 'The X Factor' has contributed much more to mankind - hell: even the same.
Do The People need to have the emotional depth of a paddling pool, and an intellect lower than a snake's arse down a mineshaft, for the State to function - for those in power to retain their position?
If so, is the injustice committed by elevating these 'X Factor' imbeciles to role model status, really worth it? Is wealth and power really worth the cost of debasing mankind and existence with these worthless peons?

Perhaps it is a pessimist's - the devil's - joke: 'Look: look at mankind, God...there is no hope - whatever is good in the world is destroyed, neglected, or supported only incidentally, people not liking it for what it is, but because they see in it some superficial property that appeals to their base appetites...and you, God, made them in your own image! The small element of intellect you gave them, with which they can grasp the first principles of things, and "Play God" themselves - yes: they can approximate your power! - is insufficient, and not required for their life, which scarcely exceeds that of beasts, whose bodies they occupy.'.

Was Nietzsche right: do we need to shed the skin of mankind, that a further being can emerge - bereft of these weaknesses, embodying all that is higher in man above the other animals? I feel that such a development is a necessity - in order to save the planet, and ourselves, we must destroy ourselves: we must extinct mankind - a development that is purely social will not change the essence of man, no more than repeatedly throwing a stone into the air will make it stay there; no: we must seek to consign homo sapiens to the fossil record, that an animal whose 'base' impulses are not base at all, but noble, and progressive might emerge - the lower in this new species must be what is higher in mankind.

Give me strength...