Archive for October, 2007

Commie Coral: The Agriculture Committee

October 31, 2007

Silverwolf had a hard time not regurgitating his vegan muck the other day when he inadvertantly got drawn into watching the deliberations of the Agriculture Committee on the new Farm Bill, now euphamistically renomered the Nutrition and Energy Security Act in the new Orwellian Newsspeak of the Clinton-Bush collectivists. To watch this namby-pamby array of socialists give their drivelly speeches, which all began with the requisite boring arse-licking of their fellow committeemen, and a lot of hot air about bi-partisan consensus, was truly sickening. Wait till ’09 when they’ll be talking about tri-partisan discord. The collectivists have been securely in power for so long, ever since Hoover, that they are lulled into the deep lethe of repetition-sleep, when the mind assumes that a condition which has persisted for decades will continue due to its overwhelming inertia. But even 500 year-old oaks will fall at some instant, and the world will never be the same.

It was interesting to observe the universal boredom in the deliveries of all these pathetic socialists: Harkin, Chambless, Conrad, — what mealy-mouthed nothings— “Senator” Baucus, who evidently can’t get through a sentence without being diverted by a new incoming thought, forming one of the rare craters in the smooth moonscape of his intelligence—Grassley, who at least has a slight talent at down home politics with his “I don’t want to be the skunk at the picnic, but…”—followed by a further array of socialists like Roberts, Leahy, Graham, Lincoln, Coleman, Stabinow and Nelson.  All braying about farm security and energy security, and playing the role of Conservative by trying to shave a thin veneer of money off a bloated and rotten burl of coroporate giveaway.  All of it stolen from individual free-market capitalists, who could have used it to improve their lives and the lives of their families.  How much richer America would be if we kept the fruits of our labor in our own pockets and invested it in commodities than made our lives more commodious and productive, instead of giving it to the vast vacuum-cleaner of government to be distributed to its corporate minions and their barking dogs, the congressmen (except Ron Paul) and the government bureaucrats who garner such lucrative benefits from the government game.  Yet the public has continued to vote for the charlatans of the two major parties for decades. Why?  In large part because so many of them accrue big benefits through the socialist system, and, for many others, because they are trying to defend themselves against collectivist encroachments into their personal liberty via tax-confiscation to fund corporate socialism. A protest against theft; a theft that the “civil libertarians” of the left think is quite alright.

The farm bill gives 80% of its direct subsidies to corporations and wealthy farmers. According to the USDA, most farm subsidies are distributed to commercial farmers with average incomes of $199,975 and a net worth of just under $2million. Nor are the nations farmers poor.  According to the Roe Institute for Economic Policy Studies, the average farm household earns $81,420 annually, 29% above the national average, and has a net worth of $838,875, more than eight times the national average.  Remember than when you hear these contemptable collectivist senators plead for your money to give away to these wealthy corporate parasites on the capitalist body-politic.

But even more telling is the fact that $192 billion are set aside over five years for food stamps, while only a mere $100 million is set aside over the same period for aid to soup kitchens and homeless shelters.  The modern liberals evidently believe that those with home address (which you need to collect foodstamps) are worth more than 1900 times what the homeless are worth, since they would allocate $1900 food stamp dollars for every one given to the destitute. And then of course they oppose eliminating the restrictionist minimum-wage law, which outlaws the Right to Contract between free individuals in a market economy, and might mean the homeless could pick up a little work and a little more than spare change after a couple of days employment. The fat barking-dogs of the Green party don’t seem to have much trouble with this injustice. Maybe they’ve never slept under a bridge and tried to panhandle the money for coffee and junkfood. Much they care, esconced in the warm cocoon of their affluent liberalism, about the homeless and destitute.

Vote out these boring, gutless collectivists who rob your children. Vote for Libertarians and fiscal conservatives.

My, my, Silverwolf really must howl at his own fustian.

Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.      Silverwolf

Antonioni: The Eldritch Concatenation

October 19, 2007

Silverwolf was stunned. For he had written an eulogy on the putting down of the artist Bergman by the Big Guy Upstairs, and had spoken eloquently of his feelings on the passing of the Master in Silverwolf’s brilliant but sensitive blog on said subject( Bergman: The Big Eye Closes). He had also exhorted the populace of the world net to employ, as much as possible, that grand old Scottish word  “eldritch”, meaning weird, in Silverwolf’s grand old blog, “The Eldritch Project”,  of which he had been requested to permit publication in a upcoming textbook on successful blog writing, but which permission he declined to grant. Any voluntary ceding of ones rights undermines Magna Carta. In meeting the needs of decorum and shunning the cheap ploy, Silverwolf had begged his readers and blog disciples (there are many in Malaysia) to only use the word in genuine situations.  Little did he realise he would have ample opportunity to use it when he first escaped the narrowing rigours of writing on economics and politics, and flung his view to the finer fields of life, where the artists live, with pretty models (and nice wine with a Heffner-imitating briar pipebowl of Borkum Riff — but sometimes one smoked Flying Dutchman or even Cherry Blend). For it so happened, in surfing the web, that he discovered that the 2nd of the great European Triumvirate, Michelangelo Antonioni, who inspired Silverwolf to want to direct films in the auteur tradition of the French,— Michelangelo Antonioni, in Silverwolf’s opinion the greatest film maker who ever lived, —died on the same day as Ingmar Bergman. Truly an eldritch coincidence.

Or was it coincidence? Silverwolf has noted three such “coincidences” in history; and all in fields of passionate interest to Silverwolf.

Firstly, there is the very eldritch coincidence of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, the two key composers of the Declaration of Independence, dying on the same day, and that day was July 4th.

Secondly, the very eldritch congruency of two of the major British comedians of their day, Frankie Howard and Benny Hill, dying within one day of each other.

And finally, the death of Bergman and Antonioni on the same day boggles the mind. And one starts to doubt the premise that these are coincidences, and it seems to one these events are more like eldritch concatenations, linked in series, as if the creative muses wanted to sweep the shelves clean in one massive clearance-sale of talent.

Silverwolf was led to want to make films when he was asked, 40 years ago, by Dmitri Schlesinger, if he’d like to go see an Antonioni marathon being held at the Nuart Cinema on Santa Monica near Sepulveda — four films were being shown: Il Grido, L’Aventura, Eclipse, and The Red Desert (Il Deserto Rosso). Silverwolf had seen L’Aventura on Channel 9 one night after he’d come back from one of those high school dances that were so much fun, and invariably left one in a Romantic mood, which was just the right one for watching foreign films which, unlike their American counterparts, seemed to be almost exclusively about love problems. And boredom.

When Dmitri and Silverwolf stumbled out of the Nuart, almost eight hours later, blinded by the California light, Silverwolf thought he wanted to make films.

After his Italian period, Antonioni seemed to change. The master of reality, shot in black and white, seemed to lose a certain magic in his films the further he moved away geographically and culturally from Italy. “Blow-Up” was nice, the shots showed the usual Antonioni care and instinctual sense for putting the camera where G-d would have put it, but the final statement of the pantomime tennisplayers playing with an imaginary ball, as if he were saying to us, reality is what you think it is, not some immovable reality — a view Silverwolf disputed (and still disputes) —left us with a vague uneasiness, as if the master who had showed us concrete reality, was now disputing the truths he had taught us.

In the  pre-video years that followed, Silverwolf saw “The Red Desert” a dozen times in kinemas. It is perhaps the “greatest” film ever made.

It is hard to recall films after not having seen them for decades. Even after a few years, many of the actual shots and minor business of a film are forgotten by the mind, and one retains at best a few dozen freeze-frame images that one projects in rapid mind slide-show when another wolf or a human mentions a film by name. But Silverwolf remembers that  “Eclipse”, in that one viewing, seemed like a surreal masterpiece, especially in that sequence where Antonioni gives us a 7 or 8 minute movie within a movie, of shots with no dialogue, of pure images of such incredible juxtaposition, that the sense of an intelligence beyond man directing the editing becomes palpable.

A coincidence? I doubt it. Surely an eldritch concatenation.

I’ll howl to that. Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww.       Silverwolf