Apocalypse Now [1979)

There is a war on.

Our enemy is brutal.

Our enemy is both foreign and domestic.

Domestic elements have aligned themselves with a foreign agenda.

That agenda is the agenda of communist China.

…and you will know us by the trail of dead.

Where was our airstrike?

Has the radioman been beheaded?

Now we are stuck in the morass of this fetid jungle.

Chickenhawks are the most eager to order assassinations.

Avril Haines.

PBR Street Gang.

Clean drumming.

Chef saucier with some Vietnamese and New Orleans French.

Charlie don’t surf.

But General Michael Flynn does.

Look out honey ’cause I’m using technology.

With a heart full of napalm.

Those dedicated few.

We salute you.

In some colonial outpost.

Without a commanding officer.

Mr. Arkadin.

Confidential report.

Legacy of ashes.

A willingness to serve.

Mental illness.

Psychological terror.

This is the unrestricted warfare of the Chinese.

William Colby.

Did he try to right the ship?

It is a bold stratagem.

He who dares, wins.

Canoe accident.

Purple haze.

Mama’s tape plays for dead son.

Baby driver.

The sadness.

Not your war.

What happens when it’s not voluntary.

Resentment.

Vietnam as ideological war.

And war profiteering.

Both.

Each side of the coin with heart blinded to the obverse/reverse truth.

They were only toy arrows.

To scare us.

But you insisted upon killing.

And you were killed.

You were by the book.

Yet you had no wisdom.

You could have been a great leader.

But you lacked agility.

To turn on a dime.

Mercury poisoning.

Make hats, go nuts.

Make deaths, go nuts.

Did Kathy Griffin incite violence when she held up a bloody prop head intended to look like a realistic beheading of President Trump?

Flash back.

Trip up the river.

Long, strange.

Deserter.

What a surfeit of patriotism will do.

Present a schism.

To fight harder.

To fight even after the war is over.

But it is not over.

It was a great plan.

Perhaps.

What went wrong?

Was the radioman beheaded?

Almighty standing by?

Skyking.

This is perhaps the best film ever made.

Francis Ford Coppola.

And it contains several of the greatest performances ever committed to film.

Marlon Brando.

Robert Duvall.

But the most important is Martin Sheen.

We are now living in a country strewn with decapitations.

All illusion of democracy is gone.

Our republic is no longer one where dissent is allowed.

From two parties, one has coalesced.

A totalitarism state is emerging.

Technocrats as the ruling council.

What are patriots to do?

We who are left alive?

Soon to be targeted by our own government…as if we were terrorists.

We only want our votes to count.

We only want free and fair elections.

Outcome-Determinative-Electoral-Fraud-2020

Election-Fraud-Facts-Detail

Summary+Evidence+Election+2020

What will you do, digital soldier?

-PD

2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle [1967)

I am at a loss for words.  But through your peripheral vision you can tell that I didn’t stop writing after that statement.  No, in fact…you can tell that I conversely became quite verbose.  So therefore the figure of speech was misleading.  Perhaps that is why Godard came to distrust language.  Who is Jean-Luc Godard?

And what does it matter?  This rhetorical device propels my analysis, yet the reader is more or less free to comment at the end of the article.  More or less.  Derrida.  Deconstruct at the weakest link in the logical chain.  Find where the text contradicts itself.  It is like a pivot chord in a musical modulation.  Napoleon would charge with all of his forces.  More or less.

The reason I express myself in this way is because, for me, film criticism is akin to ekphrasis.  Therefore, poetry.  As much as we want to be historians or scholars or social scientists, we must accept that we are really just poets.  Just.

Finally a title which meshes with my theme.  It’s not my theme, yet I have chosen it.  Vertigo.  It rejects diacritical marks…just as Shirley cards rejected the negro.  Godard realized this in Africa.  Filming.  The film had been optimized for white actors.

With all of these tangents it is a wonder that anyone makes it to the end of these ekphrastic rants.  Rambling rants.  Off-topic.  Hot topic.  Napalm.  Curtis LeMay.  Stone Age.

It occurs to me that I could very well play the reactionary, yet conscience intercedes.  Pax Americana.  No.  I cannot justify it.  I will leave it to the Navy…”a global force for good.”

It was wise that they finally discarded such a ridiculous motto.  Perhaps no one was buying it.  Sell war.  Buy war.

It is easy to get caught up in all of the James Bond gadgetry and thereby forget Vietnam..  Forget Iraq.  Forget Afghanistan.  Libya.  Syria.

For me there is no difference between the Brookings Institution and the American Enterprise Institute.  Pepsi and Coke.  Perhaps one is a little worse than the other.  They fundamentally define one another.  A dialectic.  Hegel.  Kant.  Fichte.

If I know one thing, it’s…a thesis.  If you knew better, you’d…antithesis.  Bon.  C’est tout.  …ou 3:  synthesis.

Jean-Luc Godard dropped out of the University of Paris.  It is credited as his alma mater on Wikipedia.  The Sorbonne.

This was before Hanne Karin Bayer became Anna Karina:  Godard’s first wife and leading lady.  But now we have Marina Vlady.  Made in Russia.

I get a text.  Putin missing.  I had seen.  DEBKAfile.  Approximately one million spots lower than my website on Alexa.

No, they will never give up on trying to impose order on the chaos of Finnegans Wake.  It is sheer egotism.  And I am the antithesis:  no plot, no characters.

And what of the synthesis?  Yes, you must reread and rewatch to uncover the nuances.  Godard’s oeuvre is one long statement.  Miss a film and you’ve missed a chapter of his life–a phrase in his grand statement.  Certainly.  Certainly.  Maybe.

“The comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus.”  From the basement Bob Dylan nailed it:  modern life as comic book.  Obverse and reverse.  Godard and Dylan.

All I have is cat food.  You have seven minutes left.  Three left.

Anny Duperey looks perfect…perfectly empty…staring off into space…smoking the ubiquitous cigarette.  The Shirley card loves her.  She shines.  She is radiance.  Might she be the next! big! thing?

It is with a heavy heart…that I relate that no, indeed, rather, Juliet Berto…for some time.

And thus our grand unstated theme:  cancer.  Like the hideous sound of jungle helicopters–desert jets.  Division.  Long division.

Juliet Berto won’t be reading this in any traditional manner.  She passed away in 1990 at the age of 42.

In 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle, she made her screen debut.

Tristesse.  Sadness.  Yes, Godard was right.  It is undeniable.  Things have not gone well for capitalism.  He says neo-capitalism, but I say neoconservatism.  It is not quite antithesis.  It is already synthesis.  Beginning, middle, end.  [Not necessarily in that order…]

-PD