Posts Tagged ‘celebrity’

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I haven’t seen it, but there you go.

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Not harsh enough?

I ran out of characters.

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I guess I feel obligated to cover this. There are multiple levels of stupidity at work here. But here goes…

‘Unpleasant cloud of death’

America destroyed Iran’s democracy in 1953 and installed a puppet thug, the Shah, who — with CIA help and training — tortured and murdered political opponents for 25 years. There was no justice for this international crime, a breach of the UN Charter.

The people of Iran rose up, with organization provided through the Islamic institutions, and threw out the Shah and the USA in 1979.

Prior to that Iran was aided in building nuclear reactors by the US itself.

The age of proliferation came upon us where some nations are given a free pass, such as ISRAEL & PAKISTAN (and the USA, Britain, France, Russia, et al.) , when they develop nuclear weapons, actual bombs.  The scam of the non-proliferation treaty NPT was that the nuclear nations supposedly agreed to eliminate their arsenals in the bargain. That was a ruse, bogus, nonsense, not ever gonna happen.

However, in other nations, IRAN in particular, we have the double standard. For some reason Iran is the special case to prompt global hysteria and fabricated panic. We should cower from the prospect of the Iranians developing a nuclear deterrent, because in actuality that would tell Israel and Saudi Arabia to back the hell off. Deterrents are insurance against frivolous attacks.

For some unholy reason, the US is in bed with Israel and Saudi Arabia, two of the most despicable regimes on the planet. Israel regularly murders Palestinians with military onslaughts, maintains an Apartheid state that was even called such by former president Jimmy Carter, and threatens to annihilate any country it sees fit with its arsenal of hundreds of atomic bombs.

Saudi Arabia is arguably quite a bit worse than that. Both are US allies that are given special treatment, a double standard, and both continue starting shit across the Middle East as Washington chuckles. Saudi Arabia sponsors Muslim Brotherhood, Al Nusrah and ISIS. This “kingdom” has also invaded Yemen next door and killed thousands of civilians with US supplied arms.

Prince “Bandar Bush” threatens an extermination of all Shi’ite Muslims, including Iran, if he gets his way. Saudi Arabia has also moved to acquire nuclear arms from its partner nation Pakistan without raising any red flags whatsoever! Nobody even discusses this medieval absolute monarchy and tyranny getting nukes.

Has even one of the shrieking right wing blowhards of the US congress even mentioned Saudi Arabia making a deal with Pakistan to get nuclear weapons?

So, back to this Iran nonsense: Iran has been completely accommodating to illegitimate US demands. It has bent over and taken sanctions, deals dictated to it, and violations of its sovereignty. All this because psychopaths in Israel and the US want to invade and bomb it. Thus they eliminate a rival, a different “sphere of influence,” and one that holds an awful lot of natural gas and oil.

Iran is just another target on the imperial “hit list.”

[I didn’t know about this, and I have praised Allen’s films in the past (not him personally).  It is only right to hear this side of the story.]

 

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Dylan Farrow

What’s your favorite Woody Allen movie? Before you answer, you should know: when I was seven years old, Woody Allen took me by the hand and led me into a dim, closet-like attic on the second floor of our house. He told me to lay on my stomach and play with my brother’s electric train set. Then he sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we’d go to Paris and I’d be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train, focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day, I find it difficult to look at toy trains.

For as long as I could remember, my father had been doing things to me that I didn’t like. I didn’t like how often he would take me away from my mom, siblings and friends to be alone with him. I didn’t like it when he would stick his thumb in my mouth. I didn’t like it when I had to get in bed with him under the sheets when he was in his underwear. I didn’t like it when he would place his head in my naked lap and breathe in and breathe out. I would hide under beds or lock myself in the bathroom to avoid these encounters, but he always found me. These things happened so often, so routinely, so skillfully hidden from a mother that would have protected me had she known, that I thought it was normal. I thought this was how fathers doted on their daughters. But what he did to me in the attic felt different. I couldn’t keep the secret anymore.

When I asked my mother if her dad did to her what Woody Allen did to me, I honestly did not know the answer. I also didn’t know the firestorm it would trigger. I didn’t know that my father would use his sexual relationship with my sister to cover up the abuse he inflicted on me. I didn’t know that he would accuse my mother of planting the abuse in my head and call her a liar for defending me. I didn’t know that I would be made to recount my story over and over again, to doctor after doctor, pushed to see if I’d admit I was lying as part of a legal battle I couldn’t possibly understand. At one point, my mother sat me down and told me that I wouldn’t be in trouble if I was lying – that I could take it all back. I couldn’t. It was all true. But sexual abuse claims against the powerful stall more easily. There were experts willing to attack my credibility. There were doctors willing to gaslight an abused child.

After a custody hearing denied my father visitation rights, my mother declined to pursue criminal charges, despite findings of probable cause by the State of Connecticut – due to, in the words of the prosecutor, the fragility of the “child victim.” Woody Allen was never convicted of any crime. That he got away with what he did to me haunted me as I grew up. I was stricken with guilt that I had allowed him to be near other little girls. I was terrified of being touched by men. I developed an eating disorder. I began cutting myself. That torment was made worse by Hollywood. All but a precious few (my heroes) turned a blind eye. Most found it easier to accept the ambiguity, to say, “who can say what happened,” to pretend that nothing was wrong. Actors praised him at awards shows. Networks put him on TV. Critics put him in magazines. Each time I saw my abuser’s face – on a poster, on a t-shirt, on television – I could only hide my panic until I found a place to be alone and fall apart.

Last week, Woody Allen was nominated for his latest Oscar. But this time, I refuse to fall apart. For so long, Woody Allen’s acceptance silenced me. It felt like a personal rebuke, like the awards and accolades were a way to tell me to shut up and go away. But the survivors of sexual abuse who have reached out to me – to support me and to share their fears of coming forward, of being called a liar, of being told their memories aren’t their memories – have given me a reason to not be silent, if only so others know that they don’t have to be silent either.

Today, I consider myself lucky. I am happily married. I have the support of my amazing brothers and sisters. I have a mother who found within herself a well of fortitude that saved us from the chaos a predator brought into our home.

But others are still scared, vulnerable, and struggling for the courage to tell the truth. The message that Hollywood sends matters for them.

What if it had been your child, Cate Blanchett? Louis CK? Alec Baldwin? What if it had been you, Emma Stone? Or you, Scarlett Johansson? You knew me when I was a little girl, Diane Keaton. Have you forgotten me?

Woody Allen is a living testament to the way our society fails the survivors of sexual assault and abuse.

So imagine your seven-year-old daughter being led into an attic by Woody Allen. Imagine she spends a lifetime stricken with nausea at the mention of his name. Imagine a world that celebrates her tormenter.

Are you imagining that? Now, what’s your favorite Woody Allen movie?

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This contained mind-mash pits an opportunist against nature, as celebrity obsession enters the realm of disease collecting.  Meaning: fans buy diseases so that they can better imitate and commune with their celebrity idols.  By willingly infecting themselves in order to better worship their idols, fandom has created a new commodity to exploit.  Beyond simple exploitation, the competition to obtain celebrity viruses and to sell them on the black market is fierce and criminal.

Such is Brandon Cronenberg’s directorial debut, a small noirish thriller of blood, disease and the underworld.  People who are inclined to appreciate David Cronenberg’s films will probably respond well to the movie.  The story’s Cosmopolis vibe addresses capitalist ruthlessness and the depravity associated with marketing the world to the highest bidders.  With cultural criticism (assault?) rivaling films like Idiocracy and God Bless America, here we have a very subtle, tempered version of business as usual in an unusual racket.

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The market for satire, criticism and any kind of thought whatsoever is pretty small.  DVD reviews of Antiviral made clear that a lot of people didn’t get the movie, or care to.   I thought the film was well done and thought provoking, a lot more so than Contagion anyway.  Caleb Landry Jones is a fantastic actor, and he pushes it to the edge here.  The film carried a dark, creepy sensibility even in glaringly sterile white rooms.

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“Frankly they stopped telling important news about the world, and they just tell gossip.”

–Salma Hayek

This is a frustrating and depressing documentary.  It behaves pretty fairly to all parties, including the paparazzi.  The idiot nation purchasing this crap is also called to the red carpet, and the whole thing screams for a God Bless America type solution.

The children of the stars are also being attacked whenever in public.  That was the point where I had to pause and consider the consequences to those on the other side of the lenses.  Horror stories abound of celebrities hunted down.  Jennifer Lopez, Jennifer Aniston, Salma Hayek, Sarah Jessica Parker and others recount situations where they were trapped or chased.

The larger questions concerning what this idiotic worship of glitz is doing to the nation also get asked.  It could have used quite a bit more of that, and fewer paparazzi photographs, seemingly legitimizing what they’ve set out to attack.  That is the problem with anything film related, this documentary being no exception.  Film is mass marketed and reliant upon celebrity to sell it, and to get me to write about it and you to click on the trailer.  We are complicit and stained by this culture of mindless fame and image promotion.

I’ve never purchased one of those gossip rags, and I don’t watch that shit.  I think I made the right call.  Fuck them all.  There are so many important, desperate issues to investigate.  Whether or not someone showed cellulite on a beach is so fucking irrelevant to the world it strains belief that it’s now a big business, a billion a year or more.  People fill their puny little minds with this gibberish, and they’re part of our society, voting, giving approval, nodding to the talking heads they worship, be they movie stars or politicians.  The price of an uninformed public is tyranny, a tyranny engineered out of mass deception.  Big lies are made possible because of small minds with little knowledge of history, law, and lately just basic morality.

There’s an opportunity cost to garbage culture that the masses don’t understand.  Filling your mind with trivia can only be done at the expense of not filling it with knowledge and relevant information.  This is the society America has largely chosen to be, gorged on junk food, junk drinks, junk “news”, and political deceptions that they have no clue how to properly analyze.  The “consumers” are the ultimate villains here, a point the film actually does make.  It is their spending decisions that enable the rest of it.

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PS

Tell me this isn’t related:

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Charlie Sheen’s video to Dorner.

Sheen was mentioned in Christopher Dorner’s Manifesto.