Is This Dr. Steve Pieczenik’s Last Appearance on Infowars? [2021)

https://cantcensortruth.com/watch?id=5fff54d4df45e13f8fff86a7

I have never come to you with such an important message, my dear friends.

The United States is now under martial law (although it has not been announced).

There has been/will be a military coup.

Trump will be President for the next eight years.

This according to Dr. Steve Pieczenik.

Dr. Pieczenik is my intellectual hero.

In the arts, my intellectual hero is Jean-Luc Godard.

But in philosophy, it is Dr. Pieczenik.

Life is art.

But art must be guided by a philosophy.

And so I have learned (over the past five years), from Dr. Pieczenik and Donald Trump, to honor the military and to honor law enforcement.

And it appears the military are about to save our asses.

Because our election was stolen.

It was stolen in a myriad of ways.

Lt. Gen. Thomas McInerney warned us in the days leading up to the election that it would be stolen.

He told us about The Hammer (computer program) and Scorecard (an app run on that program).

And then we saw it happen.

As an insomniac, I was personally awake and exercising when Wisconsin miraculously shifted from Trump to Biden at 4 a.m.

Trump told us on the night of the election that this would happen.

He said (to paraphrase), “I don’t want them to find any ballots at 4 a.m.”

And that’s precisely what they did.

And WHEN they did it.

Who?

The powers that installed Joe Biden.

Or attempted to install him.

Joe Biden cannot be President.

He cannot be Commander in Chief.

He is publicly compromised by China.

He took money (as I understand, while still Vice President) from China.

This was exposed in emails on Hunter Biden’s “laptop from hell”.

Joe Biden is doubtless “the big guy” who got a 10% cut of his son’s shady dealings.

The big guy.

But this goes much, much deeper than Joe Biden.

If Dr. Pieczenik is correct, what we will see over the next seven days will be a multitude of arrests.

Think ABSCAM, but on an infinitely-larger scale.

This is, very much, the rolling up of a public corruption ring.

But it is a ring which has invaded every area of our Federal government.

I don’t relish it.

I wouldn’t think the military would particularly relish it either.

Except that it is just.

9/11 was not the work of 19 beardy guys with boxcutters.

It was, far more so, the work of Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld (to name but two).

Two wars were started because these traitors engineered the controlled demolition of Manhattan’s two tallest buildings.

And for nearly 20 years, those crimes have gone unpunished.

The U.S. military has had to fight the endless (and in many cases pointless) wars which have ensued.

I have no problem with a military veteran’s vote counting as two votes (in relation to mine).

What will the next seven days bring?

We citizens have tried to get the information out.

It has been exactly like 9/11.

The media lacks basic journalistic curiosity.

The end of “one vote, one person” coupled with Biden as Commander in Chief would be the death of America.

China has engineered it.

From COVID-19 to fake mail-in ballots.

No judge in the entire country would look at the evidence.

Lin Wood tried.

Sidney Powell tried.

Jenna Ellis tried.

Rudy Giuliani tried.

And only 147 of our 535 Federal legislators gave a fuck about election fraud.

By way of a false-flag attack on the Capitol (thanks CIA), no evidence was put in front of the American public.

The courts failed.

Congress failed.

And China is heavily invested in our media companies.

Which means that a certain narrative will prevail.

And that narrative will be crafted to please the stockholders.

We have done our part.

I have put in two months.

I have crammed evidence out into every crevice of the internet.

I have done it for two months straight.

Now it appears that our last hope is our military.

Martial law is warranted when court systems are no longer functioning.

Because of corruption, our court systems are no longer functioning.

Is a military coup ever warranted?

What if a country was so thoroughly infested by corruption that it could no longer function?

I believe that is the very situation we are in now.

Our voting system needs major overhauling.

It has been exposed as being nonfunctional.

There may be entire agencies of our government which have outgrown their usefulness.

And they will not go quietly into the night.

And so it very well may be that the Second American Revolution will be a military coup.

In these times of censorship, I am quite aware that I am not allowed to voice approval of this coup.

“If my thought dreams could be seen/they’d probably put my head in a guillotine”

I am also quite aware that my blog is surveilled.

Every blog is surveilled.

I am quite certain that I am (and have been) on “lists” for much of the past 20 years.

So, by writing this blog post, I am helping to alert all who might be interested that a military coup appears imminent in the USA.

I have no ability to stop this coup.

And I have no part to play in this coup.

But I have a right to say that my vote should count.

And my vote didn’t count.

The Supreme Court failed me.

Congress failed me.

It appears that Mike Pence failed me.

The news media has most certainly failed me.

Trump tried every legal means.

And by doing so, he has displayed that our system is fundamentally broken.

I did all I could as a concerned citizen.

But I will not resort to violence.

I will simply report what I hear.

This is what Steve Pieczenik has said.

I like Steve Pieczenik.

I love him.

I love all who love our American flag.

I love all who love our history of rebellion against tyranny.

I love all who honor our founding fathers.

I love all who honor our military.

I love all who respect our police.

This is a great war between the military and corruption.

There will be some military who are found to be corrupt.

Perhaps General Mattis.

Definitely General Clapper.

And what of Mark Milley?

I reserve the right to let his actions create a true impression in my mind.

General McInerney is an American hero.

It is from him that we learned “tactical deception”.

I am a simple citizen.

I don’t have a job.

I have two college degrees.

I have mental challenges.

I have love in my heart.

And fire in my veins.

The thought of America ending at the hands of Joe Biden boils my blood.

But it is now beyond my capability.

I now know that my vote doesn’t count.

Because of Dominion Voting Systems (among other reasons).

Because of Ruby Freeman (among other reasons).

Because of foreign election interference (cyber warfare).

I love our country.

I look at General Flynn, and I see someone who also loves our country.

The military cannot turn a blind eye to election fraud.

It was an attack upon our critical infrastructure.

It was an attack on the mechanisms of democracy.

America is out of balance.

It is now up to the military.

What will they decide?

What have they been working on?

What have they been investigating?

Is there a plan?

We should find out this week.

If Joe Biden is sworn in, then it is a fairly strong indication that there was no plan.

But I find it exceedingly-hard to believe that such lack of planning would be possible.

Every mechanism of our government (including our military) would have had to fail in order for an illegitimately-elected traitor (money from China while in office) to assume the role of Commander in Chief.

I am willing to die for my country.

I am willing to die for the hope that liberty might live on.

I cannot, with a good conscience, consign future generations to the totalitarian tendency of communism.

I cannot, as a citizen, be fine with turning the keys to the kingdom over to Beijing Joe.

I have done my part.

I have fought the good fight.

I have won the race.

My name is Paul Etheredge.

I spent decades searching for the truth about 9/11.

Everyone laughed at me.

I used my own money to buy books on the subject.

I delivered pizzas.

I listened to Alex Jones.

I worked hard for those books.

I am willing to be proven wrong.

But we cannot build our house on shifting sands.

We cannot continue to progress as a country if we constantly reinforce big lies.

At some point the truth must come out.

This may be the most consequential week in American history.

May God help us and bless us.

I ask this in the name of the Prince of Princes–the King of Kings.

I ask this in the name of Jesus Christ who died on the cross so that we might live with God the Father in heaven.

I ask that the Holy Spirit be with us and guide our actions.

May we move with swift, merciless love.

May we protect.

May we be merciful warriors.

May we protect and teach.

May God open the eyes of Americans to the corruption which surrounds us.

May God bring us peace for our repentance.

May God have mercy on the souls of those who harmed children.

May God have mercy on the souls of those who staged false-flag terror attacks.

May God have mercy on the souls of those who sent our young men and women to die in foreign lands…all for a buck.

May God mercilessly shut down the center of corruption.

May God mercilessly rid our land of the cancer of secrecy.

May God cancel those who have usurped powers they do not rightfully wield.

Six days.

-PD

Requisitos para ser una persona normal [2015)

The world has broken down.

Who can save it?

As we hope and dream.

Sometimes we get lucky.

And we find where we belong.

Barafundle.

She cut off a classmate’s finger with a katana.

And forever the story follows her.

She is weird.

It was an accident.

Maybe.

She is beautiful.

When her hair is messy.

Is there more than one version?

Of reality?

Drinking water and looking at lamps.

Leticia Dolera does an amazing job here behind the camera.

This is a very smart film.

Like a Catalan version of Napoleon Dynamite.

But love requires strength.

We have now a fight before us.

China-Joe Biden threatens our country.

Do your research.

Globalism is a rip-off.

Some smart people in the U.K. got their Brexit asses the fuck out of the E.U.

The E.U. is a rip-off.

It is a prison.

And China most CERTAINLY is a prison.

So I cannot support Joe Biden as President.

Especially when his votes went through Scytl to Frankfurt to be manipulated by the CIA.

But that’s just one way he cheated.

Scytl is based in Barcelona.

SOE Software of Florida was bought by Scytl.

Now they call it Clarity Elections.

We know votes from Michigan were sent over the internet.

People cast their votes on Dominion Voting Systems machines.

The machines were connected to the internet.

Against Michigan law.

Find the former state senator (Democrat) who agreed to be a poll-watcher for the Republicans in Wayne County.

Epoch times.

IKEA.

Sweden as heaven.

Texas and Spain.

We will soon find out if the world will go to shit.

Donald Trump is the only thing standing between the World Economic Forum and global domination.

China has infiltrated everything.

Global communism is coming.

It will be brutal.

There is one chance to stop it.

January 6th.

The world has been ruined by Chinese biological warfare.

Look up Chi Haotian.

Study him.

Deeper.

This is what China wanted.

The main target was the U.S.

Lock down Wuhan.

But let the flights leave.

Shroud in secrecy.

Human transmission.

Irregular biowar.

Human carriers.

Weaponized.

Willing to die for their country.

And now China has stolen our election as well.

What does Trump have left?

In his back pocket.

I will never apologize for being a fucktard.

I have enough degrees.

Two.

I give more references than most on social media.

I do not trust the CIA.

I do not trust George Soros.

I do not trust the ruling establishment in America who have made Donald Trump’s first four years a living hell.

I do not respect these “journalists”.

I am imperfect.

I struggle to keep it together.

I try to make good decisions.

China declared war on the whole world.

Fuck China.

And fuck all the Americans who have sold out for Chinese money.

Not me.

Fuck that.

Give me starvation.

Give me horror and misery.

I call on Jesus Christ.

Save our land from the monstrous evil of Satan.

Save our land from this evil that enshrouds us.

Hear our prayer.

We call to you, dear God, to deliver us from the absolute evil that presses us on all sides.

Do not let us fall.

May we be purified.

We know that you win in the end, dear Lord.

But as long as we are on this earth, we will fight for what is right.

We owe allegiance to You (above all things).

Our country was founded by men and women who called your name.

May we purify our country.

No more secret societies.

Please save our republic, dear Lord.

Please let us prevail against our oppressors.

Do not let our walls be overrun.

Give us strength for this battle.

Give us strength for the war ahead.

Bring us swift victory.

May suffering leave our land.

Dear Lord, release the kraken.

Please let justice materialize.

Please let patriots be united.

Please let wisdom prevail.

Please let foresight be brought to fruition.

Manuel Burque does a nice job in this film.

Leticia Dolera is as good on film as she is behind the camera.

Well worth a watch.

Requirements to Be a Normal Person.

Free to watch on Tubi.

-PD

Redoubtable [2017)

Formidable.

Inspiring fear and respect.

Impressive.

Intense.

Capable.

That Swiss-Maoist asshole is my hero.

In many ways.

But which Godard?

If I were to say “late Godard” (and that would be my natural, truthful answer), Monsieur Godard would likely point out the merits of his early films…just to annoy me.

If I spoke lovingly of Vivre sa vie, he would probably proclaim that it is shit.

Jean-Luc Godard is a very complex individual.

And I can wholeheartedly identify with that.

A walking civil war.

This film never makes reference to Cahiers du cinéma.  

It doesn’t need to.

This film covers a period of time which Wikipedia classifies as Godard’s “revolutionary period”.

When did Godard stop writing for Cahiers?

He never stopped being a critic.

We know that.

And I see his point.

This is shit.

Because we want to invent new forms.

Breathless was like his “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”.

Or his Bolero.

He couldn’t escape it.

Couldn’t lose it.

Must be nice.

But maybe not.

“Play the hits!”

Did politics ruin Jean-Luc Godard?

Sure.

But it was necessary.

It was his process of growing up.

His process of attaining wisdom.

Trial and error.

Formative years.

But not the last word.

I don’t agree with Godard’s politics.

Perhaps at some point in my youth I did.

But not very much.

Because I never really understood them.

I dabbled.

But I too am a revolutionary.

In these days.

After the 2020 election.

You may call me a reactionary.

I don’t care what you call me.

I think George Washington is cool.

I think the United States of America is worth saving.

And the American Revolution has recommenced.

Same goals as the founders had.

Love it or leave it.

Godard did not show up in 2010 to receive his honorary Academy Award.

Good for him.

Fuck Hollywood!

Give me the old stuff.

Hitchcock.

Howard Hawks.

Not this new crap.

Tripe.

Perhaps you see where me and Godard overlap?

Too rashes like a Venn diagram…with a particularly-irritated common ground.

The skin is red and peeling.

Weeping.

Scratching.

Itching.

I scratch my arms.

I’m running out of real estate on my body for these nicotine patches.

Yes.

You thought it was something more interesting?

More taboo?

No.

Where does the former President of Peru come in?

Pedro Pablo Kuczynski.

Godard’s first cousin.

I too had cousins.

Who are as far off as Peru.

But always close in my heart.

Kuczynski is 82.

Godard will be 90 in one week.

I will be 44 when the Electoral College meets.

Anna Karina died on my birthday last year.

She was 79.

But this film doesn’t deal with the wonderful Ms. Karina.

No, this film deals with another stunning beauty:  Anne Wiazemsky.

Wiazemsky died three years ago.

The same year Redoubtable came out.

In the English-speaking world, we know it (ironically) as Godard Mon Amour.

Sounds more sophisticated to have the subtitled film with a more commercial FRENCH product label.

Redoubtable is too vague.

Godard Mon Amour sells itself.

[that’s what the advertising guys must have said]

Godard and Wiazemsky were married for 12 years.

Godard and Karina married for a mere 4.

I’ve never read Mauriac.

I have nothing against Catholics.

I adore Olivier Messiaen’s music.

So it bears mentioning that one of the smartest, most unique artists in the history of the world was a French Catholic [Messiaen].

Which is to say, believing in God does not make you boring.

I believe in God.

The same God.

The Christian God.

God who gave us Jesus.

God who gave us synesthesia.

Combat didn’t like La Chinoise.

De Gaulle withdrew from NATO.

Will Trump win?

De Gaulle supported sovereignty.

The European Union is the antithesis of what de Gaulle wanted.

De Gaulle criticized America’s war in Vietnam.

But that wasn’t enough for revolutionaries like Godard.

Too lukewarm.

De Gaulle wanted Québec to be free from Canada.

If you’ve ever been to Québec, you might see why.

It is unlike the rest of Canada.

Except for New Brunswick and Nova Scotia.

But not really.

Île de Chêne?

1755-1764.

Conservatism.

De Gaulle.

Biography.

Mauriac.

Wiazemsky.

Mauriac’s granddaughter.

Starring in a Maoist film directed by Jean-Luc Godard.

La Chinoise.

And then they married.

Godard was correct.

Au Hasard Balthazar is the antithesis of the Central Intelligence Agency.

But Godard never said that.

I did.

So Anne Wiazemsky wrote a book called Un An Après which was published in 2015.

She died two years later.

The same year her book was adapted for film as Redoubtable.

She died of breast cancer.

Less than a month after Redoubtable was released in France.

This film proves that Michel Hazanavicius is a very talented filmmaker.

It proves that he knows his Godard.

But it is flawed.

Aren’t all masterpieces?

Maybe not.

Is Redoubtable a masterpiece?

In some ways, yes.

In some ways, no.

It is probably most similar to Sacha Gervasi’s Hitchcock.

Both of them are films of “exorbitant privilege”.

Which is to say, a little out of touch with their subject matter.

Was Pablo Picasso ever called an asshole?

Not if we take Jonathan Richman at his word.

Art contains deeper layers of meaning.

Usually.

Unless you’re Warhol.

In which case, the meaning MAY be found closer to the surface.

Stravinsky liked this too.

Music has no meaning.

It is just tones.

Timbres.

Rhythms.

Harmonies.

Little dots on a page.

So we are told.

By Igor.

Jean-Luc Godard and Igor Stravinsky both embraced MANY different approaches to their craft over their long careers.

Because they loved their crafts.

They were addicted.

It was a compulsion.

And, for Godard, it remains so.

Godard married the girl who rejected Robert Bresson.

Do not underestimate the thrill of this.

The thrill of it all.

Bresson was a genius too.

But she was only 18 when Bresson made his advances.

Girls want to live.

Bresson was 65.

Bold.

Numbers can lie.

Godard and Wiazemsky were only together as man and wife for three years.

Though they were married for 12.

Three years was enough, apparently.

The divorce appears to have been more a formality.

Anna.

Anne.

Anne-Marie.

I spoke to Anne-Marie on the phone once.

In exceedingly-broken French.

She was saintly in her patience.

All I wished to convey, as I called Rolle (Switzerland) on my flip phone, was that Godard was my intellectual hero.  [it is true]  And that his LATE films mattered.  That they mattered THE MOST.  That he had created beauty.  That he had plumbed the depths.  I owed it to my master to deliver this message before I (or he) died (God forbid).

I was compelled.

Jean-Luc Godard is my favorite creator this side of heaven.

Even though I don’t agree with his politics.

Bob Dylan is neck-and-neck for this honor.

Dylan is, no doubt, my favorite musician to have ever lived.

Neck-and-neck with Roland Kirk (perhaps).

My favorite jazz artist.

My favorite instrumentalist.

It is never noted that Wiazemsky was in Les Gauloises bleues.

And Godard could be an asshole.

So can I.

So can Trump.

Trump is my ideological hero.

My political hero.

I DO agree with his political philosophy.

Wholeheartedly.

And yet, my favorite film director (auteur) remains Godard.

No one is even neck-and-neck with JLG for me.

Brakhage is a distant second.

Welles is formidable.

But they do not hit the mark like Jean-Luc.

Il seme dell’uomo.

Nothing suggestive there.

Global plague.

Marco Ferreri.

Marco Margine?

Shot-reverse shot.

And then I gave Jacques Demy’s grandson piano lessons.

Or Agnès Varda’s grandson.

Same difference.

More like organ lessons.

Booker T.

You should use Belmondo again.

Funny films.

We see Coutard’s hair early.

Politics entered soon.

Le Petit soldat.

Shadow war.

The perfection of Vivre sa vie.

The jaunty, carefree, playful anarchy of Breathless.

And a sadness tied to beauty.

Politics again with Les Carabiniers.

An attempt at commercialism with Contempt.

Equivalent to Nirvana’s In Utero album.

Big-budget negation.

Nihilism.

A thorough disdain for the Hollywood system.

And the “tradition of quality” in France.

But something deeper…and more bitter.

Bande à part more like Breathless.

A little like Vivre sa vie.

Dancing.

Pinball.

Billiards.

Cafe culture.

Down and out in Paris.

Life at the margin of society.

YOUTH!

Hazanavicius first really gets going with Une Femme mariée.

Stacy Martin in the nude.

Stunning.

Cinematography.

Grabbing the bedsheets.

Clutch.

Brace brace brace.

The resemblance to Charlotte Gainsbourg is striking.

A little Alphaville.

Someone who nibbles Godard’s neck.

The Samuel Fuller scene from Pierrot le fou turned into a fistfight.

Politics.

Don’t insult me!

A bit of Macha Méril in the hair.

And a bit more of Chantal Goya.

Getting shouted down by a situationist during the May ’68 occupation of the Sorbonne.  Lumped in with Coca-Cola.

Things go dark with insults.

Swiss-Maoist jerk.

On the blink.

“Ruby’s Arms”.

It hurts.

Made in U.S.A.

Two or Three Things I Know About Her.

Urbanism.

“You ruined my shot!”

Ciné-tracts.

Eating Chinese food.

A rather unfortunate outburst directed at a war hero.

And his wife.

These are the things we do.

When we’re young.

And stupid.

And fiery.

What is striking is the humor in Redoubtable.

The broken eyeglasses.

The slipping shoes.

And their replacement.

I must give credit to Louis Garrel.

He really does convey the mania and eccentricity of Godard.

While Stacy Martin is very good here, it is a shame that Hazanavicius chose to lovingly evoke every detail of Godard’s life…except Wiazemsky’s red hair.

 

-PD

The Great Reset: The Deep State vs the Great Awakening [2020)

Something is afoot.

If you’re not curious whether there was election fraud in the U.S. during this recent election, then you’re not paying very much attention.

It has been 22 days since the U.S. election.

For the American mass “news” media, everything is all wrapped up with a bow in a tidy little package.

They pull from here and there.

Yesterday it was Paul Ryan.

Since when did Democrats OR Republicans give a fuck about Paul Ryan?!?

Since pretty much never.

The U.S. “news” media trots out Mitt Romney.

Liz Cheney.

The criminal organization which is attempting to illegitimately install Joe Biden as our next President is DESPERATE to seal the deal.

Which makes it infinitely-interesting that President Trump retweeted a Lin Wood tweet.

The surface layer of content in Lin Wood’s tweet was this:

https://themarshallreport.wordpress.com/2020/11/22/sidney-powells-kraken-is-dod-cyber-warfare-program-we-are-at-war/

But the golden nugget embedded in the article was this:

How long will Alphabet Inc. leave it up?

You have the title.

The Wayback Machine has no working records of the YouTube video.

I would archive it, but I’m sick of fucking signing up for shit and being tracked.

So fuck it.

You can track it down.

And we’re gonna do a little oral transmission here.

Spoiler alert:

this film review will be strictly spoilers and nothing but.

Not my usual m.o..

I’m not selling anything.

I don’t generate income by you clicking on this story.

I have no link to any content creator above.

I write very strange film reviews.

It’s called free fucking speech.

I also write music.

All my music is free to stream and download.

And I’m not gonna post a link.

Go find it.

The purpose of this article is strictly to get information out.

I am a conservative.

The same kind of conservative Donald Trump is.

Like it, or leave it.

I belive in Jesus.

I love God.

If you don’t like my foul mouth, then you can leave now.

I curse because I’m angry.

And I curse because I will not be told what I can and cannot say.

This is my website.

I’m using my free speech.

I’m gonna walk until they make me run.

So I’m here today to tell you about what I think is going on.

I scour the internet every day (especially these past 22 days) in an effort to avail myself of actionable intelligence.

I have a thirst for knowledge.

But more than that, I have a thirst for truth.

I support QAnon.

I support Trump.

I love my country:  the United States of America.

I support our military.

I support our law enforcement officers.

And now I’m going to get around to the fucking point.

I watched this entire one hour, eight minute, and 44 second video – – – – – – so that you don’t have to.

But I still recommend you watch it.

And archive it (if at all possible).

Wayback Machine is my jam.

I’ve never been asked to “log in” until today.

Whatever…

Fuck it.

You can work a little too.

Here’s the beef.

This whole video is good.

All of the guests are good.

But there is one particular guest (the first one) who drops what I find to be some new and illuminating information.

The guest is Major Jeffrey Prather.

It should be noted that several of the six guests (including Maj. Prather) appear to be forthcoming content creators for this new outlet:  American Media Periscope.

I’ve never heard of this outlet.

I get the impression that they have only been around a couple of weeks.

AND ALREADY TWEETED OUT BY THE PRESIDENT!

Which brings me back to my point.

Something in here MUST be salient.

And my guess is that it is the first guest:  Major Prather.

If you haven’t heard of Sidney Powell by now, you have been living under a rock.

While most of America is being blasted with “Sidney Powell is even too crazy for Trump” blah blah bullshit, those who know (Trump voters) are well aware that Ms. Powell is an accomplished lawyer.

Her most recent claim to notoriety is successfully defending General Michael Flynn from the petty bitterness of sore losers.

Update:  if you’re just waking up, the Flynn case has been dismissed (within the past 24 hours).  This according to a tweet by one of Flynn’s brothers.  Go find it yourself.  I.e., Flynn’s not gonna need a pardon.

We’ve known this for awhile.

The government has no case when the government has no prosecutor.

Judge Emmet Sullivan is a really atrocious example of a judicial activist.

An activist.

Not a judge.

Sullivan dragged out the case another three months…after the Department of Justice withdrew its case.

But I digress…

It does not take a fucking genius to imagine that the exceedingly-persecuted Michael Flynn might be very grateful indeed for the legal services of Sidney Powell.

Flynn fought hard for Trump in 2016.

Flynn was unfairly targeted by Obama’s illegal Crossfire Hurricane program (run by the FBI).

Flynn’s life has been ruined (in a worldly sense).

But he has survived.

I believe the man had to sell his home to pay his legal fees.

Thirty years in the U.S. Army and that’s the treatment he got from Obama, Comey, McCabe, Strzok, Lisa Page, Loretta Lynch, Susan Rice, Bruce Ohr, Rod Rosenstein, John Brennan, James Clapper, and (last but not least) Joe Biden.

So Michael Flynn has some scores to settle.

Because of his ongoing case, he was essentially precluded by the judge from publicly speaking for the past four years.

What a illegal travesty!

So now we come to what should be obvious to any thinking individual as the massively-fraudulent election of 2020.

We have been waiting three years for any of those aforementioned people to get in trouble…FOR ANYTHING!

We would have been happy if Hillary Clinton had gotten a fucking parking ticket, but she didn’t.

We have waited through:

-Jeff Sessions

-John Huber

-John Bash?

-Bill Barr

and

-John Durham.

We have been built up by a bunch of tick-tock bullshit.

Maybe it had a purpose.

Surely it did.

But what I am about to report casts it in a slightly different light.

You can decide for yourself whether what I convey seems plausible.

I belive Q is legit.

But it is a HIGHLY, HIGHLY complex and nuanced PSYOP.

I do not believe it is a fucking LARP.

And if it’s a LARP, then so what?

It has been effective.

WILDLY-effective.

It is a part of world history.

It has gotten people DIGGING like never before.

Me and a few other people tried to expose 9/11 as an inside job/false-flag stand down/what have you.

We didn’t really prevail.

We were ignored.

Maybe we were completely wrong to doubt the official story of 9/11.

But I don’t think so.

I researched that event like my life depended on it.

BECAUSE IT CHANGED THE WORLD…FOR THE WORSE.

We didn’t need to go to war in Afghanistan.

And we didn’t need to stay there 20 years.

We didn’t need to go to Iraq.

Again.

Correct me if I’m wrong (and I’m sure you will), but I think we could have arrested Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld and a few others and called it a day.

Which brings us to the current times.

There wasn’t enough of a GREAT AWAKENING to reach critical mass.

But that was 19 years ago.

I can’t really recall Q ever having talked about 9/11.

That’s alright.

Maybe Q will tell us that 9/11 was actually the work of 19 beardy guys with boxcutters working out of a cave in Afghanistan.

And maybe that’s the whole story.

But I don’t buy it.

I believe the CIA was involved.

So does Dr. Steve Pieczenik.

Do yourself a favor and buy his eBook American Warrior in Crises.

I get nothing for plugging that.

He’s not a friend of mine.

I’ve never spoken to or exchanged correspondence with him.

I just respect his work.

Immensely!

Is he always right?

Probably not.

But for my money, he’s as close as we get to truth in this day and age.

So here’s the rub.

Flynn has some scores to settle.

The other military people who saw Flynn become a political prisoner also have some scores to settle…ON HIS BEHALF.

You cannot fail to serve your country (like Obama) and then turn around and ruin a guy’s life who did (for 30 years!).

You shouldn’t prosecute a guy for a process crime and, in so doing, make him lose his house.

I think I donated 20 bucks to Flynn.

Damn right I did!

I worked at Starbucks.

And I was proud to give my hard-earned money to a MILITARY spy chief.

And there’s the rub.

I used to want to work in intelligence.

Maybe I still do.

But I’m old.

Washed up.

And, honestly, I’m a fucking musician.

So just call me Sherlock Holmes.

And a shabby one at that (perhaps).

But I take great pride in TRYING to know what’s going on.

Because, again, I LOVE MY COUNTRY!

And who taught me to truly love my country?

Donald Trump.

And who else?

Steve Pieczenik.

And who else?

Michael Flynn.

If you don’t think that Sidney Powell is privy to some very interesting information by way of representing General Flynn, then you are incredibly naive.

Which finally brings us to this YouTube video.

Major Prather.

Major Prather (according to his LinkedIn) worked at the Defense Intelligence Agency for 17 years…and in a very high position at that!

General Flynn headed the DIA.

It might be said that the DIA is the military rival in the U.S. to the civilian CIA.

That’s right:  the CIA is a civilian intelligence organization.

A weird thing.

Created in 1947.

The CIA’s predecessor was the OSS:  a military intelligence unit.

Although the OSS were a bit kooky (thanks to their head William J. Donovan), at least they were putting themselves in harm’s way.

But again I digress.

The CIA has lost a little more than 100 officers/operatives in the past 73 years.

That’s the official number.

And it sounds about right.

The DIA has officially lost 21.

That number makes less sense.

But it makes sense in that the DIA is sort of the cream of the crop for military intelligence in the United States.

The NSA may be thought of as being even more elite (and powerful as a unit) because of the unique types of intelligence gathering they do.

The NSA supplies intel to the CIA, FBI, DIA, etc.

The NSA is a military intelligence organization.

Back to these casualty numbers.

The CIA has officially lost 133 of its employees on the job…in 73 years.

The DIA has officially lost 21 of its employees on the job…in 59 years.

But that doesn’t really tell the true story.

Sure, the CIA has its paramilitary strike teams.

They used to be called SAD/SOG (Special Activities Division/Special Operations Group).

These officers were largely recruited from the military special operations units:  Army Delta Force, Navy SEALs, MARSOC, etc.

Other than these agents, the CIA is more pencil-pusher, wear a tie, James Bond shit.

And I do mean shit.

Once upon a time, the CIA used to help overthrow communist governments.

This might seem inhumane.

Until you live under communism.

In which case, you see just how humane it really is.

But the CIA has gotten away from that mission.

So much so that they ended up with a Director who had once voted for a communist for U.S. President.

That’s right:  John Brennan voted for Gus Hall.

It should have been a disqualifying factor by some estimations.

The CIA and FBI apparently share the same requirement upon beginning official employment:  you must pass a lie detector test…and one of the questions is something to the effect of “have you ever supported a group that has sought the overthrow of the U.S. government.”

John Brennan admittedly had a tough time answering that question.

But he might as well have answered:

“Not yet.”

To my eyes, John Brennan is clearly a traitor to the U.S.

Following closely behind him is Michael Hayden (who led both the CIA and NSA respectively).

But Michael Flynn is cut from a different cloth.

He’s a spymaster.

But he cut his teeth doing the real thing.

Serving in Army intelligence (INSCOM).

Putting himself in harm’s way.

The same cannot be said of John Brennan (and most of the CIA).

[Michael Hayden is a strange case of…well, I don’t know…I just have to assume he is corrupted and coopted to such an extraordinary level that he doesn’t even really love his country any more (if he ever did in the first place)–he loves himself…first and foremost]

So I give Major Jeffrey Prather (formerly of the DIA) a great deal of respect as a foregone conclusion.

[keep in mind…the DIA has had its share of bad eggs…James Clapper chiefly among them]

If you watch no other section of the video I posted above, watch the segment with Prather.

Akamai.

Where do they fit in to this election?

Which brings up 9/11.

And the incredibly strange/significant “death” of Daniel Lewin.

Yes, I know I put death in quotes.

I’m about as sure Daniel Lewin died on 9/11 as I am sure that Adam Lanza was a master with an assault rifle.

Which is to say, not very sure.

But the Electoral College will meet on my birthday:  December 14th.

Massachusetts.

Akamai.

Serbia.

Ok, we know about Dominion Voting Systems and all the programmers they have/had in Serbia.  A bit of a strange locale.  Wonder if the company memos are in Cyrillic?

China.

I don’t now why I wrote that down.

I’m going off notes.

Frankfurt.

Ok, yes.

Obviously.

Something appears to have happened there.

I’m not sure what Prather’s point was on this.

What was seized?

From Scytl?

From the CIA?

And seized by whom?

The U.S. Army?

I should take this opportunity to point out a strange assertion of Prather’s.

I find this one a little hard to believe, but I suppose it’s possible.

Prather asserts that the U.S. Army, U.S. Navy, and Marines have all had their computer systems compromised.

Might this have something to do with the DoD contract with AWS?

Amazon Web Services.

The CIA uses them too.

Look it up, you lazy fucker!

It’s an article…in The Atlantic.

Dig!

There have been rumors that the votes in (for example) Michigan were sent by Dominion Voting Systems by way of AWS (which is to say, over the internet?  cloud???) to Europe in order for the votes to be tallied.

Giuliani has pointed out just how ludicrous this is.

And it is!

But what’s the exact chain?

We know there is a company called Scytl.

They are headquartered in Barcelona.

They are rumored to have a “back up” data site (servers) in Frankfurt.

There is good evidence that internet traffic in Frankfurt, Germany on the night of the U.S. election set records for that city.

Look it up.

Find it.

WikiLeaks exposed the fact that the U.S. Consulate in Frankfurt is a giant CIA hacking base.

This can be found in the Vault 7 materials from WikiLeaks.

So, did the CIA hack our election?

Seems to me like a high probability.

Indeed, Prather outlines this dichotomy:  the civil war in the U.S. has already started…and the SO/LIC confrontation can so far best be described as DIA vs. CIA (or, perhaps more accurately, military vs. CIA).

I believe this is probably accurate.

It is borne out by all the intelligence I have personally gathered (OSINT) over the past few years.

The CIA has lost its way.

I once applied there.

Thank God I didn’t get the job.

I also once tried to sell my soul to the Devil (true story), but that tale can wait…

I am saved by the grace of Jesus Christ.

I am the worst among sinners.

Which is why I need the grace of Jesus more than anyone.

I also applied for Air Force Intelligence once.

Didn’t get it.

Maybe because I have a fucking music degree and an MBA.

Not exactly what’s commonly thought needed to assess China’s answer to the F-35.

Which brings us to Prather’s point.

According to Major Prather, only the U.S. Air Force and the newly created Space Force have retained the security of their computer networks.

This is a bold claim.

I don’t have anything to really gauge it on.

Except that I have a soft spot for INSCOM (because of Q and Flynn) and a soft spot for the 4th POG (because they followed me on Twitter for some odd reason [before Jack Dorsey squashed me like a bug]).

Prather then pivots to his concerns.

He talked about possibly-imminent “interdictions” against Iran.

We have heard Q talk about Iran.

I love Iranian psychedelic music from the ’60s.

Before the Islamic revolutionaries fucked everything up.

I have nothing against Muslims.

I love them.

I have nothing against Iranians.

I love them.

I LOVE Kiarostami [RIP].

But let’s take stock for a moment here.

Joe Biden “won”.

Netanyahu pretty fucking quickly called to congratulate Joe.

And THEN…YESTERDAY Netanyahu calls to congratulate Jonathan Pollard on his release.

What in the actual fuck?!?

How pro-Israeli does a President [Trump] have to be in order to get a little respect from Israel?

Ok, ok.

I know.

Maybe Netanyahu is working with Trump behind the scenes.

Entirely possible.

Maybe we should have a sort of FVEY agreement with Israel.

But probably not.

Because, you know, remember the U.S.S. Liberty (you fuckers!).

Back to 9/11.

I have no idea if the Israelis were involved.

There was definitely some suspicious shit.

Zim-American Israeli Shipping.

Vacating the WTC right before the attacks.

And the moving truck company [Dominick Suter].

Mossad had some strange presence in and around NYC leading up to 9/11.

I don’t know what they were doing there.

And then there were the Mossad “art students” (which Pieczenik has attested to from personal experience).

All I know is this.

9/11 could not have gone undetected (and undeterred) by our military.

To the list of Rumsfeld and Cheney (Liz’s dad), we should add Ralph Eberhart, Richard Myers, etc.  And almost certainly Paul Wolfowitz, Douglas Perle, etc.

Keep in mind, nobody ever got in trouble.

The two tallest buildings in America fell down (were blown up) and all we did was waterboard KSM 183 times.

Perhaps Flynn and Anthony Shaffer could set me straight on some stuff.

I get the general gist of Able Danger.

But it still doesn’t explain a lot of things.

I’m gonna have to side with Pieczenik on this one:  we’ve seen one long procession of (unpunished) false-flags since 9/11.

Now comes the pain.

Pieczenik seemed really sure about those watermarks on the ballots.

And I believe him.

Shaffer seemed to corroborate their likelihood.

But I was of the understanding that DHS was running this election sting.

After watching this YouTube video, it has dawned on me just how suspicious Chad Wolf has been acting.

See something, say something, right?

Why wouldn’t he fire Chris Krebs?

Even more importantly, what in the actual fuck was CISA doing on the night of the election?

Alexandra Bruce brings up some pretty excellent points in this video.

If I understand her correctly, she seems to be saying that cisa WAS IN ON THE WHOLE THING!

[Which would make sense in the same way that NORAD was doubtless in on 9/11]

But here is perhaps the most intriguing bit of information which Major Prather dropped.

It is his assertion that Ezra Cohen-Watnick is, in fact, Q.

Or rather, he says something to the effect that there is a [and I paraphrase] “very high likelihood” of this.

Call me dumb, but I never even thought of that possibility.

I know who ECW is (not personally, of course).

Thomas Wictor drew attention to this personage years ago.

Said there were no pictures of him because he’s military intelligence.

It’s all starting to click.

I find the ECW theory highly-plausible.

But then Prather throws a massive curveball.

Maj. Prather asserts that Bill Barr is getting ready to indict Ezra Cohen-Watnick (!).

For what?

For being Q??

A final bit of potentially disheartening information from Prather is that “Durham has done nothing” (paraphrase).

I.e., John Durham has not, and will not, bring any of the Crossfire Hurricane [coup #1] traitors to justice.

Sure, we got Clinesmith, but give me a fucking break…

I’d still rather see Hillary get a parking ticket.

So there you have it.

The other guests in the video are all quite good.

They all have some rather harrowing predictions for the coming days/weeks/months.

All seem to agree that Trump will probably prevail and be elected to a 2nd term.

But it could get really ugly.

Ms. Burke brings up the specter of military tribunals.

I see her point.

It may be necessary.

I also highly recommend the PSYOP officer.

And the big fat guy with the beautiful brain.

-PD

Napapiirin sankarit [2010)

Here is a masterpiece.

Not since Aaltra (2004) has a movie so perfectly made use of the dark humor pioneered by Louis-Ferdinand Céline in Voyage au bout de la nuit (1932).

Lapland Odyssey is Finnish film which is currently free to watch on Tubi.

I cannot give enough praise to the director, Dome Karukoski.

This is not just a miraculous feat of storytelling, but the mise-en-scène of a true auteur.

I was born 15 days earlier than Mr. Karukoski:  43 years ago.

Our director hails from Cyprus.

Where Eric Schmidt has recently applied for citizenship.

https://www.vox.com/recode/2020/11/9/21547055/eric-schmidt-google-citizen-cyprus-european-union

Funny timing, that.

Wouldn’t Eric Schmidt welcome a Biden Presidency?

Does Mr. Schmidt fear something in the United States?

Perhaps the former CEO of Google knows something we do not?

Might it concern impending public corruption trials?

And, just maybe, a reelection of Donald Trump?

Lapland Odyssey premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2010.

That was the same year that Toronto-based company Dominion Voting Systems acquired not only Premier Election Solutions (an American company [Ohio]) from ES&S (Election Systems & Software [Omaha, Nebraska]), but also Sequoia Voting Systems [California] from Smartmatic [U.K.].

PES had only been acquired by ES&S the previous year (2009).  Before that, PES was owned by Diebold.

Premier Election Systems was formerly known as Diebold Election Systems.

Before Diebold bought it, it was known as General Election Systems.

Before General Election Systems bought it, it was known as I-Mark Systems.

You get the picture.

Dominion Voting Systems is now owned by American private equity firm Staple Street Capital (which has extremely strong ties to the Carlyle Group [George H.W. Bush’s former benefactor]).

https://www.osler.com/en/expertise/deals-cases/dominion-voting-systems

None of this would have been possible without Jussi Vatanen.

Vatanen is our hero.

He is tasked with the impossible.

Find a digital TV receiver (“digibox”) in one night.

After the local electronics store has closed.

This involves a trip to Rovaniemi:  the main city of Lapland.

[population 63,032]

Hundred of kilometers to get to Finland’s 17th most populated city.

In Finland, Lapland is not only the northernmost province, but it is also the largest province of the country.

It bears mentioning that there is also a Swedish province called Lapland.  

The cleavage of these two Laplands dates to 1809:  when Russia annexed the eastern part of Sweden and declared it the Grand Duchy of Finland.

My closest brush with this region was a single musical concert I played years ago in the town of Kiruna (in Swedish Lapland):  Sweden’s northernmost town [population 22,906].

It was an experience which profoundly changed me and which stays with me till this day.

Finnish Lapland borders Sweden’s Norrbotten County.  At Norrbotten’s northernmost point can be found Kiruna (north of the Arctic Circle).

At the southeast corner of Norrbotten County is Piteå:  my favorite town in Sweden.

The town of Piteå sits on the Gulf of Bothnia–just across the water from Finland.

I also played a musical concert in Piteå.

It was, perhaps, the happiest time in my life.

So I can imagine Rovaniemi.

A city just four miles south of the Arctic Circle.

Jussi Vatanen plays the loser who makes good.

Which makes him, in fact, not a loser.

I can intimately relate to that.

I have lost my job (again).

I am addicted to drugs (again).

And I am addicted to alcohol (a first for me).

It is in these days, when I am having the first true experience in my life with alcohol withdrawal, that I come to this film.

It is the perfect film.

It is just exactly the film I needed at this particular time.

Because I, like Janne (Vatanen’s character), am trying my damnedest to get my life together.

Last week, I got engaged.

Actually, REengaged.

I exercise (pacing back and forth in my parents’ garage as my phone records my steps).

I drink less.

I exercise.

I drink less.

Nausea.

Dizziness.

ANXIETY.

And extreme fucking INSOMNIA.

When I was in Kiruna, the sun only went down for four hours.

I didn’t see the Northern Lights.

But you can see them in this film.

And they are glorious.

If it is CGI, then I am losing my touch.

Because I don’t believe it is.

I appears to be the genuine article.

Aurora borealis.

And headaches!

Lots of sunflower seeds.

Big red welts all up and down my arms and torso from nicotine patches.

I can no longer afford my General Snus.

Sure, I have some stashed away…

But my wise old psychologist once told me:  “just move one thing at a time”.

  1.  alcohol
  2. tobacco
  3. valerian?
  4. Ambien?
  5. Xanax?

I put question marks because I am unsure of the order.

Main goal is STOP DRINKING.

Or, should I say, the FIRST goal.

If I can get an MBA, surely I can stop drinking.

[God willing]

For every hero, there needs to be a doubter.

To provide context.

The hero forges forward (when it would probably be best to just quit).

The hero quits (when it would be much easier to just continue).

The hero is determined.

The hero gives energy and inspiration to those around him.

But the doubter adds richness.

Because it is human to doubt.

Will Donald Trump be reelected President?

We will find out when the Electoral College meets on my birthday to ELECT a new President-Elect.

Till then, Joe Biden is at best the worst kind of poseur.

He is doing exactly what he promised Chris Wallace and the American people he WOULD NOT do:  to declare victory before the election is independently certified.

What a hypocrite.

https://www.foxnews.com/politics/biden-victory-election-independently-certified

Each state certifies its vote.

Biden does not have enough votes at the moment (by way of certified state votes and their concomitant electors) to declare victory.

N.B.  It is the Electoral College which will ELECT the next President (who THEN AND ONLY THEN becomes known as the President-Elect).

And so we doubt.

Me and Jasper Pääkkönen.

Was there fraud?

I believe so.

And you may doubt in the other direction.

Was there fraud?

You doubt there was.

But I know there was.

Because I have basic research skills.

And I availed myself of Rudy Giuliani’s masterful delineation of the case for fraud.

[no thanks to American mass media (which completely blacked out all coverage of Giuliani’s press conference with Sidney Powell and Jenna Ellis)]

So we all doubt, each in our own way.

And someone may convince us.

The law may even compel us.

The U.S. Supreme Court may weigh in on the legality of certain ballots in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin.

Cold states.

Particularly Michigan and Wisconsin.

Fort Meade.

4thPOG.

Dark Horse.

Fly fishing.

Fort Bragg.

Timo Lavikainen is the late-bloomer.

Along for the ride.

But absolutely essential.

Able to love.

You must become like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Sibelius.

Karelia.

1893.

News of war.

Siege.

National anthem.

At some point we might mention the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.

Which lasted about 500 years (until 1795).

For beauty, we have Pamela Tola.

She just wants a fucking digibox, for christsakes!

Something about those blonde bangs.

Then there is the villain.

A bit like Alex “Scott Evil” Soros.

A bit like Martin Vanger.

Kari Ketonen plays the boy who never got anything.

…and let it make him evil.

He plays the cheater.

The trickster.

A character with absolutely no morals.

Strictly driven by lust.

[and a good bit of narcissism]

He comes off looking a bit like Kip in another masterpiece of a film:  Napoleon Dynamite.

Imagine Kip as an irredeemably-unscrupulous character and you will have a pretty good idea of who Pikku-Mikko is.

Little Mikko.

Short.

Short people.

Randy Newman.

Mikko moves in for the kill while the matrimonial bed is still warm.

Mikko false-flags his way into manipulating his enemy.

Mikko is a master of PSYWAR.

But God wins in the end.

And Moa Gammel is the real star of this film.

In a strange way.

Principal siren.

Debussy.

A Swede.

Almost the doppelgänger of Pamela Tola.

The Swede is the world image of beauty.

Alluring.

Beckoning.

The Finn is more quixotic.

Cute.

Harsh.

Soulful.

None of this, of course, means a damn thing.

And all the while Timo Lavikainen just wants to see Miia Nuutila’s tits.

License plate.

Ali G.

There will be helicopters.

-PD

Cuban Fury [2014)

“You got no fear of the underdog/

That’s why you will not survive.”

Britt Daniel wrote that lyric.

And it’s the only song by his band Spoon which has even the most remote bit of soul in it.

Such a soulless band, Spoon…

The ultimate plastic hipsters.

A male supermodel and his gang of H&M monkeys behind him.

It would almost be artistic…in sort of an Andy Warhol/Factory sort of way.

Except there is no humor in it.

Spoon are dead serious.

The irony is (ATTN:  hipsters) there’s no irony here.

All that being said, Britt Daniel wrote one of the best songs I’ve ever heard.

And it’s the one I quoted above.

“The Underdog”

It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter that my path crossed Britt’s path.

It doesn’t matter that I was invited to audition for his band Spoon as a keyboard player.

It doesn’t matter that he probably saw me in an outfit that wasn’t quite svelte enough and promptly canceled my audition before it ever happened.

Because he underestimated the underdog.

And that’s why he will not survive.

Last I heard, Spoon (or at least their godhead, Britt) relocated to Portland.

I suppose Austin wasn’t hip enough anymore.

Either that, or his shitty personality had shit off everyone in Austin and he needed a new lot of cunts to shit on.

But I digress…

Because, as stated, Britt had a point.

Once.

In one song.

[whether he learned the lesson he sang about or not is a different story]

But it is very much germane to OUR story–to this fantastic film:

Cuban Fury.

You almost always see Nick Frost in tow behind his partner in comedy Simon Pegg.

But not this time.

And so here we start a new investigation.

The test was simple:  could Nick Frost carry a film by himself (without the great talents of Simon Pegg)?

And the answer is a resounding YES!

We start all Billy Elliott (that one thing upon which Admiral General Aladeen and his presumptive torturer could agree).

Ass kicked.

Sequins eaten.

A future star quits mid-stride.

What could have been…

Have you ever had such a moment in your life?

I have.

LIFE beat me up.

In the span of a couple of months.

And now, instead of laying down tracks on 2-inch tape, I’m making songs solely with an iPhone.

You can feel the excitement.

It had to have been at least 20 years for Bruce (Nick Frost).

He gave up his passion.

Thought he would never cross paths again with salsa dancing.

He had been on the precipice of the youth national title in Britain.

Then his life went humdrum.

Works an office job for a company specializing in lathes.

The most nondescript industry possible.

But he gets a new boss.

Rashida Jones.

She is excellent here.

She hits just the right notes in her performance.

She is Bruce’s new boss.

But, as fortune would have it, she (an American in Britain) loves salsa.

Bruce is gobsmacked.

Enough so to turn his life around.

To attempt to reel in the years.

Equally brilliant as the first two players I’ve mentioned (Frost and Jones) is Ian McShane.

You might remember him as the head of MI6 in The Brothers Grimsby.

But ironically, his role here (as Bruce’s former dance teacher) is far heavier.

Think Burgess Meredith with an occasional lisping Spanish one would expect to hear in Madrid.

And McShane injects some Keith Richards pirate couture for good measure.

This is a HARD man.

Drinking tequila the whole film.

And he’s a fucking dance teacher.

A TOUGH dance teacher.

He’s tough because he sees the potential in his student.

And he won’t let his student half-ass this endeavor.

Either you go “all in”, or you go home.

Passion.

El corazón.

This film is truly a joy to watch.

…to see Nick Frost regain what truly makes him happy.

To dance.

It’s the story of someone reclaiming themselves.

Rewinding life…just enough to relive ones happiest former version of being (and relocate oneself).

But here’s the other part.

The ladies.

Or lady, here.

They just see Nick as a fat schlub.

No way this guy could dance salsa, right?

Every day suffering insults from a particularly nasty coworker.

Let me illustrate.

For me, supporting President Trump brings me daily grief.

Every day I am made aware (by “liberals”) that they hate me.

I am treated badly.

In person.

At work.

Online.

Simply trying to start my romantic life over and date.

I am very upfront.

Listed front and center:  “I voted for Trump.”

Kind of like an, “Abandon hope, ye who enter”.

But more like:  Let the Buyer Beware.

I lay it all out there.

“I live with my parents.”

etc.

And I get some shitty shit.

Which is why, every once in awhile, I think God is looking out for me.

I think maybe that God sees what I go through.

I’m not mean.

I’m not rude.

I don’t proselytize in a political sense.

I try to show warmth to others.

I try to show God’s love with my actions.

And boy do I end up throwing my pearls before swine sometimes…

Often, perhaps.

Lots of swine.

And it gets me down.

But I thought today was gonna be better.

Since last night.

Things had been going really well for me.

And now, here at 4 in the morning, I find myself back in a similar spot.

But it’s ok.

Because God loves me.

And if a bunch of braindead bitches wanna ignore the underdog,

then we won’t be surprised why they didn’t find happiness.

So this is a love story.

Forbidden love.

Nick Frost is in love with his boss.

Because his boss is perfect…for him.

It’s FaTE.

God puts us in the position to win.

But true winning is not always capturing first place.

“You can’t always get what you want…

But if you try sometimes,

you might find,

you get what you need.”

Where have I heard that song these past four years?

Ah, yes.

She was never supposed to lose.

Hillary Clinton.

She underestimated the underdog.

That’s why she did not survive.

Before this goes totally off the rails.

Love is the greatest victory there is.

But love has to be reciprocated.

If you’re a superstar (and I know you are, my dear reader), then you deserve AT LEAST as much as you give.

When you give love, compliments, gifts, affection, etc.

If you find yourself always to be the giver…and never allowed to be the taker (because nothing is given to you), then you just might be in the wrong situation.

I know I was.

And, praise God, I am out of that for the time being.

Except for at least one catch.

The world, our world, is primarily composed of takers.

Ingrates.

People without manners.

Humans unfamiliar with common courtesy.

Unpracticed at recognizing fairness.

People who have very little conscience (if any whatsoever).

And they are either unaware that they are such assholes, or they are aware and they simply do not care.

So again, it’s just me on this computer here.

Sitting in the dark.

Typing.

But that’s ok.

Because in this movie, a fat guy gets a beautiful girl.

And he gets her because he’s good at something.

Do you feel me?

But we must be righteous too.

Let us not underestimate OUR personal underdogs.

Let us not defile the name of God by letting superficiality reign.

God will show us the way.

Let us do what is just.

I ask that all who read this may be helped.

That each of them may know that God loves them.

And I ask this in the name of the Son of God.

I ask this by the power that is in the name Jesus.

God works in mysterious ways.

Our loving God will not be mocked.

God will not lose in the end.

We are entrusted with great responsibility.

But we know who wins.

And we know that the ending is magnificent.

And we know that all are welcome in the Kingdom of Heaven.

God only asks that we have humility.

The humility to ask forgiveness.

And God does not demand perfection.

The coin which God accepts, for eternal life, is faith.

And God charges no interest on this coin.

It is given freely, yet it is the most valuable thing in the universe.

Praise be to His holy name.

Indictments = start.

 

-PD

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory [1971)

Now we come to a crucial crossroads.

30,665 deaths so far in the United States from COVID-19.

Over a month ago, on or about March 12th, my girlfriend broke up with me.

But she didn’t do it in any sort of clearcut way.

I committed a transgression.

I wrote a very unflattering song about her.

Musically speaking, it was a very good song.

And so, out of blind pride, I posted it on my SoundCloud page.

It was written out of frustration.

I did not feel that I could discuss anything of substance with my girlfriend.

But I must qualify that statement.

I was unable to give her criticism…at all…ever.

No matter how tactfully I phrased it, she was not open to critique.

And she was always this way.

I will let the psychiatrists in the room now give their opinions as to the reason why.

[             ]

Thank you, good sirs.

You see, my girlfriend used to be my fiancée.

And before that she was my girlfriend.

My beginning is my end.

Understand that I waited 41 years to propose to a girl.

And propose I did.

And she accepted.

It was a joyful day.

I wore my best (only) suit.

I brought flowers (as I did every time I saw her).

We were happy.

I thought that giving her the reassurance of engagement would improve her attitude.

While I was never allowed to give her criticism (without a resulting emotional explosion from her), she was allowed to give me criticism.

And she did.

From the moment I met her.

Her very first words to me when we first met in person were a CORRECTION of my faux pas.

I didn’t stand when she entered the room and approached my table.

I admit that I was in error.

But I was enraptured by her beauty.

And that was the first of many, MANY criticisms I would receive from her over the ensuing four months until our engagement.

Perhaps my optimism was misguided.

After a brief “honeymoon period”, the criticisms came back.

But I must give some “back story” to fill in her character profile.

She had lost a child mid-pregnancy just two years prior.

And less than one year before meeting me, she had lost her husband in a tragic traffic collision.

I was very compassionate to the special needs of this truly unique child of God.

My fiancée.

I wanted to help.

I overlooked many of her character flaws…attributing them to her PTSD and depression.

But every anniversary was like an eruption.

The date when her child died.

The date when her child was supposed to have been born.

The date when her husband died.

Her and her late-husband’s wedding anniversary.

Amidst all this struggle, she wanted to have another child.

Her one child had been lost.

Before ever really entering the world.

I obliged.

I loved her.

I was scared.

“What kind of father material am I?,” I thought.

But I pressed on.

I always acquiesced to her demands.

We did things HER WAY.

ALWAYS.

And it was stressful.

“Let’s go to a fertility clinic.”

Yadayadayada.

All while I am working to make ends meet.

“I will soon be too old to have children.”

A frantic pace.

Interspersed with bouts of her extreme depression.

Lovely stuff, I assure you.

It drove me back to tobacco.

And it drove me nuts.

Everything snapped for me.

One day I woke up and realized I couldn’t go to work.

I was done.

And so for 9 months, I had to be reborn.

I had to detox.

To her credit, she stuck by me (more or less).

And then tragedy struck again.

Her mother died.

I frantically tried to get my old job back (though I was not quite fully healed).

And I did.

I wanted to help her save her apartment which she loved.

But she got sick.

And sicker.

And sicker.

I kept the job.

But the apartment was lost.

And now she lives with her dad.

Just as I live with my parents (a situation she gave me grief about many times).

“Many who are first shall be last, and the last shall be first.”

Jesus spoke of karma.

And I’m sure I have a lifetime of wrecked karma ready to crash down on ME at any moment.

But sometimes the irony is too dripping.

There was the hospitalization.

Six days she was there.

I came every night (five nights).

After working until midnight sometimes.

But it was not enough.

She wasn’t satisfied.

After the hospital, she got worse (in many ways).

Finally, I was asked by her family not to contact her anymore.

Not to cause her “grief”.

And like that, our engagement vanished into thin air.

For 17 days I lived in a darkness.

And so did she.

She was very sick.

I heard nothing from her.

And then she slipped back into my life.

Slowly.

But it was so confusing.

She didn’t want to be engaged anymore (she said).

She wanted to take a (big) step backwards.

I wasn’t too happy about this, but I accepted.

And so we made it several months.

A nice Valentine’s Day.

But something was worse than before.

There was absolutely no reciprocation.

If I complimented her (which I did often), she would not compliment me.

If I did something nice for her (which I often did), it was very soon forgotten (and certainly not answered with a loving action from her).

I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t.

She was still too sick, she said.

And so things dragged on thusly.

And then I wrote that song which changed my life.

That song of frustration.

I am not proud of it.

Though it be musically a good composition, it caused her sadness.

When she happened to find it.

You see, I would write songs for this girl of mine.

I recorded 183 songs for her over the course of two years.

Some covers.

Some original instrumentals.

Some original songs.

Many of these gifts barely got a word of thanks in return.

Same for the thousands of dollars of flowers I bought for her over the same time period.

There’s even one song that she appears to have never bothered even listening to.

And it’s a good one.

After six months, it shows that it has zero listens.

Well, no one is perfect.

There were probably (almost certainly) other songs she never heard.

It just wasn’t what she needed at the time.

I can attest.

She was very, very sick.

183 songs.

Some she never got around to listening to.

In my frustration, I sang to the world.

I wrote…and put it in a bottle.

Like putting a leaf in a flowing stream.

To get rid of that care.

But of course, she found that particular leaf.

She interrogated me about it.

“No,” I said (trying to be tactful), “it’s not about you.”

But my conscience got to me.

And so the next day I came clean.

Yes, the song is about you.

I apologized sincerely.

I made no excuses whatsoever.

I didn’t plead my case.

She didn’t ask (never has) how I came to a place of such frustration.

But that was the last I heard from her.

For 10 days.

The first 10 days of this coronavirus pandemic in the United States.

I went through it alone.

I sent texts.

I sent emails.

All went unanswered for 10 days.

And when we came out, she was less than my girlfriend.

I told her I loved her…and got no response.

That was five weeks ago.

And so we have been winding things down.

We still talk.

But she is incapable of discussing our former relationship.

It stresses her out to much.

And she never even bothered breaking up with me.

So we are “just friends” now.

And I have tried to be there for her during this coronavirus crisis.

Which brings us to Willy Wonka.

This was one of the most formative movies of my life.

Perhaps THE most formative.

In elementary school, when the teachers were too lazy to teach, they’d put this film on.

And I would sit enraptured.

No matter how many times they showed it.

And they showed it to us MANY times.

It must have been one of the few VHS tapes which was approved for them to screen.

So what does this all mean?

Coronavirus, a wrecked romantic relationship, Willy Wonka…

Here is a partial answer:

a film reviewer should be cognizant of what is going on in their life and how that affects their “reading” of a certain film.

I rewatched this film tonight (for the umpteenth time) and saw stuff I had never seen before.

New details noticed.

But I was watching it with the sadness of romantic loss.

And with the stress of total societal isolation.

I have worked on the front lines of the service industry all throughout this crisis.

Precisely for the mental health BENEFIT it gave me.

Exercise.

Ersatz social interaction (with coworkers and customers).

But now, my store has been hit with a close encounter.

And so our hours have been shaved.

No more midnight.

Midnight shifted to 10 p.m.

And now, abruptly, 10 p.m has shifted to 2 p.m.

Can you imagine a coffee shop closing at 2 p.m.?

Well, that’s us right now.

And I am fairly certain I have delayed sleep phase disorder.

My “availability” starts at 4 p.m. each day.

So I have AT LEAST the next eight days off.

And I have had the past two off as well.

But five of my coworkers are home self-isolating…because they had potential second-hand exposure to COVID-19.

I miss them.  I’m making them music playlists.  I’m buying them groceries.  I’m sending them texts and emojis.

What a horrible situation to be in.

I myself was homebound today because of my asthma.

And that is our world.

Every sniffle.

Every sneeze.

Every sore throat.

As the mold floats on the breeze.

And the oaks bloom.

As particle pollution undulates.

Along with ozone.

Is it ‘rona?

If I need to take a Tylenol, is it ‘rona?

If I were to get coronavirus, it would be very bad indeed.

I live with my two elderly parents.

I have asthma.

I have high blood pressure.

And I have a whole bevy of mental problems.

But I chose to work.

I ran towards the sound of gunfire.

Whether it was stupid or brave, that is for others to decide.

And so now, here I sit with this masterpiece:

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.

Mel Stuart may be an auteur whose time is yet to come.

But the secret weapon is Walter Scharf.

Did he write the music?

No.

But he orchestrated it.

And such gossamer orchestration it is!

We start poor.

Shaggy dog.

Charlie Bucket.

A peasant’s name if there ever was one.

Crazy man plants the seeds of conspiracy.

About the factory.

*Charlie lives with his parents (as most young boys do).

But he also lives with all four of his grandparents.

And his father is deceased.

Willy Wonka is certainly a film about espionage.

Economic espionage.

Business espionage.

With overtones of state espionage.

International espionage.

Remnants of war.  England.  Germany.

Wonka’s factory is like Area 51.

But this film is unique in that it delineates a search.

A search by a man.

Or an organization.

Or agency.

Or entity.

A search for that one special person.

[decades before The Matrix]

God tested Abraham.

“…kill me a son/Abe said, ‘Man, you must be puttin’ me on!’/

God said, ‘No.’/Abe said, ‘What?’/God said, ‘You can do what you want Abe, but…uh/

next time you see me comin’ you better run.’/Abe said, ‘Where you want this killin’ done?’/  God said, ‘Out on Highway 61.'”

God, of course, STOPPED Abraham from killing his son.

But only AFTER Abraham had committed fully…knife in hand…to slit his son’s throat.

Great reading, that.

The Bible.

And this is a very biblical tale, Willy Wonka.

The eccentric Jesus.

God the Father…in the Heavens…with his Inventing Room.

The chocolate factory is heaven.

And only those who become like a child can enter…and stay.

Only those who are born again (made pure like a child) can inherit this chocolate factory.

God wants to pass on his greatest creation.

Heaven.

And God tests us.

But there is grace.

Charlie and Grandpa Joe mess up.

They drink the fizzy lifting drink.

They hang suspended like Icarus and Daedalus.

Their wings don’t melt.

They have the opposite problem.

They are on a collision course with the edge of ether.

Until they learn how to burp.

Stephen Dedalus…

Cicada 3301.

GCHQ recruiting.

Puzzles.

QAnon.

NSA.

Kryptos.

Who can solve the final part?

Right there at Langley.

Some might say I was engaged to Veruca Salt.

Wonka running counterespionage.

Counterintelligence.

Slugworth in Switzerland.

For Your Eyes Only.

Octagonal.

And hope.

Get out of bed.

Go back to work.

Warning strictly against “frippery”.

Again with Roger Moore in A View to a Kill.

Sideways fan.

Spoiled brat.

Always got what she wanted.

Cautionary tale of poor parenting.

God is merciful.

All is dream.

But God cannot be mocked.

His word is eternal.

Jesus was the Word made flesh.

Superseding the Ten Commandments.

There is freedom in Christ, but we are not to go on sinning.

We will mess up.

But it is by grace that we are saved.

So that no man may boast.

It is not by good works.

But the heart must be contrite.

And, above all, pure.

Made pure by the Holy Spirit.

When one invites God into ones life.

A little bit of divinity in each of us.

And quite a bit of divinity in this film.

By this logic, Satan (created by God) may be a Slugworth to be unmasked in the end times.

Lucifer…with that scar on his face.

The mark of Cain.

The murderer.

Finally, this is Gene Wilder’s best work.

He channels something here which is otherworldly.

Wilder became immortal with this film.

And he lives on.

As long as there is goodness in this world, we have a chance.

I want to thank my friend, the great writer Chris Lindsay, for encouraging me to write onwards during these dark times.

Thank you, Chris.

 

-PD

Sleeping Dogs [1977)

The year we were born.

My lady.

There are few things more odd and enjoyable than a New Zealand accent.

And few things more enjoyable than finally finding a decent movie after wading through piles of shit.

This is quite a good film.

And it starts off our survey of kiwi cinema.

Smith gets cucked, but he plays the Jesus figure at the end.

Profoundly weird.

Rebel without a reason.

The Wrong Man meets Godard’s Week-end.

Will we attack Iran?

And what about the “resistance” that Hillary’s loss spawned?

Sam Neill essentially plays Dennis Wilson.

Pacific ocean blue.

Operation Gladio.

Buried weapons caches.

This movie takes some really unseen plot turns.

Several WTF moments.

And the end we also get a bit of Jean Renoir.

“Boeldieu”, shouts Erich von Stroheim.

“Boeldieu!”

Dig through film history.

With me.

Lots of false flagging here.

Brenton Tarrant?

Not sure.

Real or fake?

Bloke had some odd travels, what?

Turkey.

North Korea.

Epic vomiting!

Fingers down throat.

Way to out-special New Zealand’s special forces.

Not a country particularly known for that.

Shaves his beard.

We pull for him.

Root for him.

Hitchcock’s mistaken identity foiled.

ANZUS.

1951.

Harewood Airport (Christchurch).

U.S. Antarctic Research Program (cover).

USAF Mt. John (Washdyke).

This was the intel as of 1974.

From a kiwi student newspaper.

Which segues into the communist guerrilla element of this film.

Which is to say, New Zealand probably did have some dumb fucks who wanted to fight the government.

AND…New Zealand (like most governments) probably has false-flagged when it’s convenient.

Thus we find out the meaning of Sleeping Dogs.

In a fucking motel.

Kiwi special forces driving Toyotas.

Warren Oates does a pretty great job here.

Godard might know him from The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond.

Smith (Neill) shows the idiocy of radicalization.

But also the sense that it makes.

Poor saps with bleeding hearts.

Just trying to do the right thing.

Just trying to preserve true justice.

In the face of dirty governments.

This movie does not disappoint.

For my money, it is better than Fitzcarraldo.

The RNZAF make sure of that.

Kudos to director Roger Donaldson on a job well done!

 

-PD

Who’s Minding the Store? [1963)

Here’s a great movie.

And a great chance to take stock.

To assess.

Work.

And money.

I got engaged.

Recently.

Yay me!

It’s a very big thing.

I’ve never been engaged before.

But today I’m scared.

Because I’m poor.

Money fluctuates.

And I worry I won’t be able to provide for my love the way I would want.

Kinda like Jerry Lewis in this film.

A schmuck.

Hard-working, but still entry-level.

That’s me.

Whaddle-it-be, man?

And yet, I’m rich in love.

I love.

And my love loves me.

This I know.

And so.

I will take that knowledge forth.

My love doesn’t love me for my money.

Because I haven’t got much.

But what if I had less?

And what if what if???

Money troubles.

Many bad things happen in money troubles.

But I am just over-excited.

I tip too much.

I go a little overboard.

If I could only write like Mozart…

But I do.

In my own way.

These strains you haven’t heard in a long while.

Because they have been buried.

We have to suffer.

And so I suffer now in this moment.

Fear.

Oh, the ignominy!

Of picking up trash.

Of licking the boots of bourgeoisie.

Those who fancy themselves to be above their position.

Like me.

Fair enough.

To kiss ass.

With a master’s degree.

Obviously I’m in the wrong line of work.

But I press on.

Dumb, but steady.

Trying to be honest.

Trying to make an honest living.

Learning hard lessons.

If someone would abandon me for over-loving, then to hell with them.

YOLO.

YOLT.

JOLT.

That thunderbolt looms large.

I am flawed.

Pressed on all sides.

Said Saint Paul.

Like the Star Wars trash compactor.

So I make this a prayer.

Knowing my love believes in God.

I pray to you, Lord, that you will give me a chance.

That you will help me with my mistakes.

That you will not make others suffer because of my ignorance.

I pray, Lord, that you will put opportunities before me.

And that you will help me to be a better person.

I am not used to all of this.

Can I pull it back and win?

It is to God that I pray.

Beg, knowing I am blessed.

Blessed simply by the same grace which is available to every man and woman.

All creations of God.

I ask God help with my health.

My peace of mind.

Please help with my striving to be healthy.

Please give me strength and grace to overcome the obstacles now before me.

And I ask you, Lord, to give me guidance in my career.

In work.

How to spend my time.

Where to spend it.

And how to spend my money.

How to save it.

Give me wisdom, dear Lord.

I have nerves.

But I am an artist.

And God is my parachute.

Do not tempt the Lord your God.

Who helps those who help themselves.

With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.

Jesus.

God’s got this.

 

-PD

The Blues Brothers [1980)

This one just barely makes the cut as “’80s comedy”.

Narrowly avoids “Big Bush”.

But certainly “Notre Musique”.

The Blues Brothers is one of my childhood favorites.

And I was craving this film.

I tried to locate it on DVD (to no avail).

And so tonight I broke down and splurged on iTunes’ exorbitant à-la-carte business model.

I was willing to pay the premium.

Because I’m sick.

No way around it.

But let me update you as to my progress.

HUGE progress.

Weeks ago (a month?) I cut my sleeping medicine in half (the dosage).

It was hard.

Really hard.

I was disoriented.

Headaches.

But largely just slow as fuck.

I felt like I had a crayon lodged in my brain 🙂

Yes, my body and brain had gotten used to a certain dosage over the past 2 years.

Eventually I returned to some normalcy.

I got used to the new dose.

Half-as-much as previous.

It was time.

My graduate studies had long been over.

And my wonderful psychologist (whom I am so lucky to have) challenged me to break my addictions.

Understand, I didn’t conceive of my dependencies upon prescription drugs as “addictions”.

But I think it is helpful that my paradigm has shifted.

Yes, I was addicted to a sleeping medicine.

Because I took it every fucking night.

And eventually it called to me…to take it earlier than bedtime.

Ugh…horrible.

A few short weeks ago (two?) I made a psychologist-approved adjustment to the dosage of another of my medicines.

This one is for anxiety.

I reduced my dependence from three pills to two.

This was an achievement.

And a tribulation.

VERY FUCKING DIFFICULT.

Again I had that same confusion.

That same disoriented stupor.

Strangely, this detox was a little different.

The whiplash effect (“rebound anxiety”) hit me a full two weeks later.

There was a delayed effect.

The first days were headaches and stuff.

No prob.

I thought I had it beat.

Like nicotine.

Rough, but possible.

So when the delayed effect hit, it really sucked.

But I got through it.

I trudged on.

I got back on the horse.

And now these past few days have brought a return to the sleeping medicine.

But not, you understand, a regression.

No.

Rather, a full stop.

It’s been three days.

And now I am totally off my sleeping meds.

The first night was really rough.

It sucked.

Anxious “sleep”.

Inability GOING to sleep.

But I stuck it out.

Each night has gotten better.

But the DAYS…

Ugh…

Aches, pains, headaches, stomach…trips to the restroom.

Bad stuff.

And that same disorientation.

It is a really strange feeling.

Very unsettling.

But it is an accomplishment.

And so tonight I made it through a movie.

I didn’t have the brain-power to review a film with subtitles.

No art films this time around.

But The Blues Brothers was just what I needed.

Something comforting.

This really is a masterpiece of sorts.

John Landis turned in an excellent effort here.

The costars John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd were magnificent.

And the cameos just keep on coming 🙂

The blues.

Yeah.

I’ve had the blues.

Not depression, so much, but another kind of blues (lately).

Like climbing up a hill.

Like Sisyphus.

When I get to the top (and get used to a new, lower dosage of medicines), my feet are pulled from under me again (as I start on a new challenge).

I am learning (slowly) to deal with my anxiety in natural ways (rather than with drugs).

Suffice it to say that this is VERY FUCKING HARD (for me).

In some respects, I am already back to an engagement with the world which I haven’t had in seven years.

Indeed, I have rolled my medicines back (under psychological supervision) to a level I last “mastered” seven years ago.

That is SOME FUCKING ACCOMPLISHMENT! 🙂

Just a few short months ago (this dog-day summer), I was in the pits of debilitating anxiety.

My cousin died of a heart attack on July 5th.

That sent me into a tailspin.

Not too long afterwards, I myself was on heart medicine.

My dear cousin perished at age 43.

I’m 40.

It scared the fucking shit out of me.

So here we are 🙂

I hope to start a new job soon. (Yay!)

I am scared to death.

Scared I can’t handle it.

But I WANT to do it.

I WANT to handle it.

I WANT the challenge.

I had a great job interview the other day.

First time any company had bothered to listen to me in forever.

AND I WAS OFFERED A JOB! 🙂

I am just waiting on my background check to be completed.

As I have no criminal record (and no credit…neither good nor bad), I don’t see how a fair company could preclude my employment.

But life offers no promises.

I speak my mind.

A bit too freely, perhaps.

And I am not anonymous.

Sometimes I wish I were.

But I am flying out in the fucking wind.

I am not a secret.

My pen name is strictly that.

I am not hiding behind it.

It was my stage name.

I earned it.

I toured the world as Pauly Deathwish.

And so it seemed only natural that my film critic persona take the baton from my musician self.

Indeed.

Music.

I have been making it again.

Playing open mics.

Trying to get my drug-addled brain to MEMORIZE songs.

[ugh…]

Was never my strong suit.

But I’ve gotten (more or less) a couple of tunes under my belt.

And being a middle-aged geezer, I don’t feel too bad showing up with a music stand and some extra lyrics for songs which I haven’t quite set to memory yet.

Music.

Music is what’s at issue here.

The Blues Brothers.

A beautiful film.

I have lived this film.

I have fucking lived these roads.

I’ve played just about every possible analogous shithole to Bob’s Country Bunker.

Believe me.

I have been in the disgruntled band 🙂

As close to chicken wire as imaginable…

Which drags me back to topic.

This is a really fucking good film.

And I am cursing like a sailor.

For my conservative, proper readers, I do apologize.

It is a defect in my personality.

I feel it necessary that I curse.

Otherwise, I don’t feel I am getting my point across.

Because what I am expressing is a very pithy matter.

Life.

The grunge and grit of life.

Every word is in lieu of weeping.

Experiences so pungent as to suck all fight out of a person.

That is what I have lived.

And it is that to which I bear witness.

I am not thinking real clearly, but I am thinking (and writing) a lot clearer than I was a month ago.

I am on the good drugs now 🙂

Tylenol, Advil…

I have been fighting through multiple addictions.

Things which I didn’t see as addictions.

And life is coming back into focus.

And THAT IS TERRIFYING…

But also EXHILARATING!!!

But mostly terrifying 🙂

So here we are.

A movie.

On a mission from God.

Sinners.

Redeemed.

Walking with the Lord.

I ask, here, that God grant me mercy.

I’m just as fucked up as anyone.

But I ask for the grace of Jesus.

And I ask for strength to do the right things.

To help people.

To not be afraid.

I am living through the spiritual battle.

May God protect me.

Yes.

I have seen the light.

And I weep.  Jesus wept.

Too.

I’ve been through so much shit.

And I feel like maybe I am finally emerging from the “dead mall” of limbo.

Like Jake and Elwood crashing out of the JCPenney in 1980 🙂

I want to exist in that flophouse minute.

Buttered toast on a coat-hanger over a hotplate.

And a 78 rpm Decca blues record spins and the elevated lines churn by endlessly.

I want to live in that moment.

Brings us back to the Danish concept of hygge [coziness].

John Landis nails it in the scene where Jake is drinking Night Train wine and Elwood is making toast.

Very close to what Roberto Benigni would do 17 years later in the Schopenhauer scene of La vita è bella.

Those scenes from films…

Those scenes in which we want to live.

They never get old.

They never cease to comfort.

That somewhere in this fucked-up world is a little closet we can call home.

Barely big enough to open the door.

Just a bed.

Basically.

But it’s our little space.

Carrie Fisher tries all manner of destruction in this film 🙂

Even a flame thrower!

But Jake and Elwood keep getting up.

Just some rubble.

Just keep dusting off those black suits.

“Maybe CIA”, says Aretha Franklin (like the key to Dylan’s Tarantula).

Keep climbing from ‘neath those bricks.

Gotta make it seem real.

Maybe use real bricks.

Better to be the first man up.

Let’s get this in one take.

Hit on the head too many times with a brick…

Because there are private pressings on vinyl of American acts that went no further than their local Holiday Inn.

It is almost a fabled purgatory.

Red-shag.

Very Charlottesville with the car and the cartoonish Nazis.

But I just wanna hear me some more John Lee Hooker.

Electrify.

My evenings.

I got the blues.

Days of Delta slide…feathery as an aeolian harp.

And nights of thin, wild mercury.

Just like in the movies…

Get a record contract backstage.

You could wait your whole life.

Carrie Fisher goes full-automatic.

And most of this film takes place in the hellhole of Chicago (but nearly 40 years ago).

Hey…I’m not much for car chases, but this film does something real special with the device.

Exhilarating.  x2

That’s where they have that Picasso, right?

And perhaps it will be notable that Spielberg is the Cook County Tax Assessor clerk?

We shall see.

 

-PD