The popular creepy kid genre can be traced all the way back to The Bad Seed (1956), but really took off in the years that witnessed the introduction of the birth control pill and the legalization of abortion in conjunction with overpopulation propaganda, with Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), It’s Alive (1974), The Stranger Within (1974), Devil Times Five (1974), I Don’t Want to Be Born (1975), The Omen (1976), and The Brood (1979) being notable examples. The purpose of such movies, when it is not simply to make a quick, exploitative buck, has frequently been to instill in deracinated women associations of anxiety and disgust with their own biological imperative, and The Prodigy (2019) is an especially noteworthy development of this tradition. I found it to be genuinely scary – even as I smirked inwardly at its gross subtextual purpose.
[WARNING: SPOILERS]
4.5 out of 5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that The Prodigy is:
3./4. Anti-gun and pro-choice in one fell swoop. You have to watch out for those meddlesome old white men with their guns trying to save children from being murdered by their mothers. BELIEVE WOMEN when they determine that their sons deserve to die.
2. Antinatalist. The Prodigy might as well have been titled Abort the Alt-Right: The Movie.
1.Anti-white. New parents John (Peter Mooney) and Sarah (Taylor Schilling) – who have the surname Blume but do not appear to be Jewish – seem to have the perfect suburban life until their unhealthily pale son Miles (Jackson Robert Scott) starts to manifest precocious intelligence while lagging behind in emotional development and social skills. He also has different-colored eyes like Nazi LARPer David Bowie, who is name-dropped in the screenplay. These are the film’s first clues that what devil-child Miles really represents are Jewish and globalist anxieties about the remaining potential for a resurgence of nationalism and fascism among peskily still-reproducing white people. One of the semi-autistic child’s first demonstrations of intolerance is when as a schoolboy he becomes jealous at the sight of a Mexican-looking boy working on a project with a white girl. Miles wants to be paired with the girl instead and attacks the other boy in deplorably savage fashion with a wrench. A not-so-insignificant establishing shot shows him attending Buchanan Elementary School – because everybody knows the antisocial influence that Patrick J.’s tutelage exercises over the kids these days.
A Jewish parapsychologist, Dr. Arthur Jacobson (Colm Feore), finally determines that Miles, who speaks in Hungarian while he sleeps, is the reincarnation of a misogynistic serial killer, Edward Scarka (Paul Fauteux), whose family had relocated from Orban Land to Ohio. Scarka, as seen in The Prodigy’s prologue, disrespectfully chopped off womyn’s hands and murdered them in his supervillainous hillbilly house of horrors. He was probably a Republican, too – the viewer just senses it. Hungary, in Jewish consciousness, is inseparable from its twentieth-century history of anti-Semitism and the “Holocaust”, and Scarka personifies the threat of retro central-European bad-optics nationalism’s reincarnation in Rust Belt populism and toxic masculinity. After Dr. Jacobson tries hypnotizing Miles in order to learn more about the malevolent Hungarian soul occupying his body, Miles threatens to accuse him of sexually molesting him – because, of course, that is what incorrigible young white men are doing these days – falsely accusing Jewish men of being pedophiles. Who needs the bother, amirite, sisters? Just #RESIST pregnancy and have an abortion.
Rainer Chlodwig von K.
Rainer is the author of the books Drugs, Jungles, and Jingoism and Protocols of the Elders of Zanuck: Psychological Warfare and Filth at the Movies.
Phteven Universe, for the uninitiated, is the musical project of Pilleater, one of the more individual and idiosyncratic racial thinkers to have carved out a niche for himself online. An original, challenging, confounding, and often obnoxious figure, Pilleater in his now substantial body of Alt-Leftish critical and creative work explores a wild frontier at the margin of the Alt-Right without ever really being of it, putting in occasional co-host appearances on Robert Stark’s Stark Truth podcast, writing books, and doing everything from comedic impressions of Alt-Right figures to music reviews on his frightening YouTube channel.
Pilleater
Musically, the oeuvre of Phteven Universe is not entirely separable from its creator’s perverted boutique ideology of “Asian Aryanism”. Even the name, referencing as it does a grotesque viral canine meme and a Japanese-influenced Cartoon Network TV series, is expressive of Pilleater’s interest in internet subcultures and Asiatic hybridism, conveying as well the sense of whimsy that characterizes much of Pilleater’s output.
The first, self-titled Phteven Universe album advertises itself as a vaporwave release – and there is certainly some memorable vaporwave on here – but to pigeonhole Phteven Universe as a vaporwave artist, while this perhaps is useful as a marketing niche, is to do a disservice to the eclecticism of the tracks. This one opens with effervescent waves of peace, melancholy, and inspiration wafting in with wetness and the sounds of birds – only then to plunge the listener into a morbid cityscape with soundbites expressing contempt for the soulless corporate mentality.
Then comes a sassy succession of late-80s-sounding Terminator-X-style hip-hop sounds and quaint computer noises. Keeping the scenery in flux, the album evokes a windswept expanse of blue desert followed by a slick retrofuturistic club beat, after which the listener is treated to a truly inspiring vapor track sampling the Commodores’ “Easy” over determined pulses of synth ascending into triumph. The vocal is spaced out – way out – so that the listener can believe it and feel it when told, “I wanna be high – so high.” This moment alone was so glorious that I actually felt a bit bad about having paid so little to own this awesome tape.
The second side of Phteven Universe is another eclectic nostalgia trip, launching from a disorienting opening into a sample of the once-ubiquitous “You’ve Got Mail” announcement and leading into an earnest, ballad-style piano number, followed by the inarticulate moan of a man ripped painfully out of a comfortable but no longer accessible past, both sad and soothing. Then the album gets crazy again and shifts into some oriental synth cutesiness followed in succession by slick, ritzy, high-rise vanilla elevator funk, a track with aggressive percussive elements resolving into a pastel chill session, and then “Fuck Off Melissa”, a nasty track evocative of a futuristic mutant sex club and reminiscent of Cabaret Voltaire of the era of The Crackdown.
The second release, おさかなといっしょ – which, if Google Translate can be trusted, comes out as “With Fish and Lettuce” – consists of a first side inspired by primitive video game soundtracks and a second side that recreates what I have to imagine a night out at the gay disco must have sounded like in the early nineties. It had me thinking of C+C Music Factory, but Pilleater is very particular and autistic about his club music obsessions and probably has something else altogether in mind. The creepier and more interesting first side, which apart from nostalgia bears no immediately apparent relationship to the second, gives the haunted impression of bad AM radio reception and a lonely, neglected vintage Nintendo game that seems to ask with a touch of menace, “Hey, kid … why don’t you play me anymore?”
Illicit, the third Phteven Universe release, opens with some busy, hectic, alien-sounding material somewhat reminiscent of Prodigy or Ministry’s classic “Stigmata”, warning the listener, “There is no future.” This is followed by more distorted video game sounds in keeping with the material on おさかなといっしょ, but this time mining a more baroque melodic vein. From here Illicit turns dark again, with chaotic, repetitive cacophony evocative of a malevolent universe. As eclectic as Phteven Universe, however, Illicit never settles into a single style for very long and progresses through guitar discordance, African chanting, more homoerotic club music after the fashion of おさかなといっしょ’s second side, some funky programming and S&M percussion, industrial sounds, high-NRG dance, and a disjointed jumble of childhood memories, blips and beeps, gothic electronica, KMFDM-style angst, and – most hilariously – a sample of Jamie Stewart’s Stark Truthappearance in which the Xiu Xiu artist hissily unleashes on the Alt-Right.
Side B continues with the eclecticism, getting underway with some pleasant hypnotica before launching into machine-gun-like percussion followed by more throbbing homo nightclub shenanigans. Next some breezy synth washes over an unobtrusive beat – one of the few soothing moments in Phteven Universe’s oeuvre – but the respite is brief, as the horizon darkens and gloomier tones return, followed by hip-hop and trance-like obsessions. It must be noted, too, that some of the ambient explorations and the disquieting ruminations on Illicit’s second side would seem to belie Pilleater’s cultivation of a clownish persona, so that the album is far from a mere hodgepodge of carnival weirdness. This is an album that at times expects and receives a listener’s serious attention. The creepy voice comes back again before Pilleater apostrophizes a “dream girl”, and ends on a bit of a Wendy Carlos note, with some classical synthesis.
Getting off to a fun start with some Moonman and dis rap samples and some soulful, moaning retard scat, Asian Girlfriend further develops the styles established on the previous Phteven Universe releases, with more naughty club thumping, baroque video-gamey electronica, discordant lo-fi dystopian cuteness, atmospheric electro-percussion worthy of old-school New Order, and more dark and whimsically primitive gaming, some of it sounding almost sentimental – or it would, at least, without the mutated robotic muttering over it. As with the previous albums’ smatterings of vocal passages, Pilleater seems not to be too concerned with whether or not the words are heard – except when it comes to needing help with his algebra homework; that bit gets the proper enunciation it deserves. The highlight of Asian Girlfriend, however, is easily the nasty dance number “Consent”. If you don’t like this one, it’s probably just because Pilleater can do, as he puts it, so many things – “and you’re just jealous!” The artwork alone would make Asian Girlfriend worth owning.
Phteven Universe, again, is much more than a vaporwave fad-follower; but Pilleater’s commentary on the sociopolitical significance of vaporwave is key to understanding what he is attempting with his music and new Apocalypse Culture. “At its core, the vaporwave genre nostalgically admires the past: VHS tapes, electronic synthesizers, retro-futuristic cars, vector grids, vintage arcade games, bad consumer products, Japanese culture, etc.,” he writes in his essay “Fashwave Sectarianism vs. Vaporwave Hegemony”. At the same time, he concludes, vaporwave is “the music of the future.”
If vaporwave is inherently reactionary, nostalgic, and retro-futurist, it is already Right-wing. The whole thing is Right-wing. Not just the fashwave secession. What I would like to see is a critical discourse that accompanies and interprets the vaporwave genre as an essentially anti-liberal art form sprung from a sincere longing for the future we were promised but denied, without cutting itself on edgy National Socialist and Evola memes. Sure, people will try to trot out Capitalism and Schizophrenia, but it’s up to us to call out such errors in thinking. It is up to us to construct a dominant anti-liberal paradigm to eventually turn vaporwave discourse, and the music itself, against the globalist nihilism and transhumanist philosophy of Eccojams and Floral Shoppe.
Richard Spencer and Mark Brahmin discuss James Cameron’s films The Terminator (1984) and Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991). Readers may want to compare this pair’s very insightful commentary with my remarks on Terminator: Genisys (2015).
I’ve developed such an iron stomach when it comes to digesting rotten movies that it really says something when it takes me multiple sittings to make it all the way through one, as happens to have been the case with A Cure for Wellness. This plodding Judaic dud concerns a corporate creep (Dane DeHaan) who travels to Switzerland to retrieve an insane executive who is reportedly recuperating in a mysterious clinic. Switzerland essentially being a piece of Germany, the place is naturally being run by crypto-Nazi perverts with all sorts of deep, dark European secrets. Boringly perverted director Gore Verbinski and his collaborators are so determined to give the setting and characters an air of coldness and clinical inhumanity that these qualities, unfortunately, end up attaching themselves to the film itself, making it about as appetizing as a gore popsicle. Even the effort to liven things up with would-be shocks like sadistic dentistry, eels in a toilet, masturbation, and incestuous rape only make the movie more of a yawn-inducer. Even the Blu-ray menu is irritating, with its horror movie cliché of a little girl’s monotonous singing. Throw in the fact that this is yet another mean-spirited production of Israeli intelligence asset Arnon Milchan (opening with a shot of skyscrapers, to boot) and A Cure for Wellness goes straight into the biohazard bin.
2 out of 5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that A Cure for Wellness is:
3. Assimilationist, showing the inspiring ability of blacks and Indians to ape European dress and mannerisms.
2. Judeo-capitalist, casting a financial criminal as the protagonist.
1. Anti-white and pro-miscegenation. Early in the movie, a white woman makes a reference to a “twelve-inch” black penis, suggesting congoid sexual superiority. The pathology of a racially homogeneous community is conveyed by icy-eyed Europeans whose sterile paleness is amplified by their all-white wardrobe. National Socialist notions of racial hygiene are parodied as a form of isolationist inbreeding. The protagonist learns that the clinic occupies the property of a nobleman who determined that the only woman pure enough to bear him a child was his sister. Sad to report, we have now actually plumbed the cultural depth at which audiences are sufficiently debased to tolerate the casual horror of a father (Jason Isaacs) sticking his hand up his daughter’s crotch and then sniffing his fingers for the camera. Hitler is never explicitly referenced, but the entire backstory of fiendish medical experiments and fields full of emaciated corpses are intended to evoke the specter of the persecution of the Jews. A Cure for Wellness functions as “Holocaust” revenge porn, with the viewer expected to exult in the sight of a sheltered European girl (Mia Goth) cleaving her father’s skull with a shovel and riding into the night on a bike with the evilly grinning New York crook who has rescued her from the Swiss ethno-dystopia.
Kevin Smith, confirming his place as one of the twenty-first century’s most daring movie makers, shoots where few have previously dared to film and mounts a shocking, full-frontal assault on the undying evil of Nazi ideology in the staggering opus Yoga Hosers. Either that, or the tiresome tub of ethnomasochistic nihilism pledges his fealty to his Jewish masters by gifting the planet with yet another boring hipster anti-racist time-waster. The has-been Clerks schmoteur casts his daughter, Harley Quinn Smith, along with Johnny Depp’s daughter, Lily-Rose Depp, as two Canadian high school girls who work as (what else?) clerks at a convenience store, the Eh 2 Zed. Their lives are a round of mundane teenage troubles until they arrange to party with a couple of Satanist schoolmates and their store is invaded by a little army of miniature Bratzis, sausage soldiers who all have Kevin Smith’s facial features. Charles Band must be kicking himself that he never came up with this one. Because the movie is set in Canada, too, every actor is obligated to say “boot” or “a boot” instead of “about”, and “oot” instead of “out”. This is about as sophisticated as the toilety humor gets. Smith, however, apparently finds himself fairly hilarious, and self-congratulatorily giggles over the closing credits, proud of having written such inspiring lines as, “I’m so sorry, ladies, but I seem to have dropped my book on your wiener.”
2 out of 5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that Yoga Hosers is:
5. Corporate, featuring ample product placement for Slim Jims and especially Beanitos.
4. Y-ambivalent and quasi-Luddite. The only halfway worthwhile social content in the film is the suggestion that Generation Y is a spoiled, self-pitying lot all suffering from smartphone dependency. The girls’ gym teacher, Ms. Wicklund (Genesis Rodriguez), calls them “Generation Y Me?” “You live on your phones,” she tells them. “You have no idea how to function like normal people in the real world.” “Our phones are who we are,” one of the pair frets when their phones are confiscated. Old-school technology like the microwave oven is, however, depicted as useful.
3. Anti-white, perpetuating the lie of white “privilege” and the stereotype of the dumb blonde. The girls’ black principal (Sasheer Zamata) objects to their entitled whining, mocking their “sad tale of heartwrenching woe” when they have to go for a day without their phones. “I mean, it could win an Oscar, really. You could write it up, sell it, and win an Oscar. Seriously, you could call it, um, 12 Years a Private School Student. See what I did there? I compared your privileged lives to slaves – and that’s weird. I’m black.” Then, when the girls laugh, she deadpans “That’s not funny” and tells them they’re “stupid”. Smith, like his fellow puddle of race-traitorous 90s residue Quentin Tarantino, adores the idea of aggressive blacks asserting themselves over helpless whites. “Principal Invincible” is right about one thing: “That’s not funny.” Nothing in Yoga Hosers is funny.
2. Feminist/Misandrist. The two girls manage to save the day by weaponizing their yoga skills. One of the girls is advised to carry a “date knife”, which comes in handy when her handsome, blond party date (Austin Butler) turns violent. The only good men in the movie are wimpy eccentrics like whimpering dad Bob Collette (Tony Hale); ugly doofus Guy Lapointe (Johnny Depp); and yoga instructor Yogi Bayer (Justin Long), whose “dinky” is now “vestigial”.
1. Jewish supremacist. The movie opens with a stupid rap metal song that kicks off with a few notes borrowed from “Hava Nagila” – Smith’s way of acknowledging who holds the purse strings in the movie industry. Producers on Yoga Hosers include a Greenblatt, a Kessler, a Rogin, a Reifenberg, and even a Monsanto – appropriate, given the junk food plugs. Ms. Maurice (Vanessa Paradis), the protagonists’ history teacher, gives them a boring lecture about “Fascism, genocide – the worst thing that has ever happened to mankind” – you know, just in case the audience has never heard of the “Holocaust”. She then proceeds to detail Canada’s history of evil anti-Semitism, including the Parti National Social Chrétien’s nasty plan to murder all of Canada’s poor, innocent Jews. Illustrating the lecture is a flashback sequence featuring Adrien Arcand (bloated former child actor Haley Joel Osment) “offering up anti-Semitic rabble about deporting Canadian Jews to the Hudson Bay” and then sinking their boats with cannons. (Smith clearly did his research … into the effects of Jewish money, senility, and LSD on filmmaking.) Dastardly Nazi revivalist Andronicus Arcane (Ralph Garman) finally unleashes the Hitlerites’ ultimate weapon in the present day: a monstrous “goalie golem”, which has to be the most insipid instance of Jew-projection ever committed to film. Garman is one of Smith’s “SModcast” collaborators, with the Urban Dictionary defining “SMod” as “Any vulgar conversation containing dick and fart jokes or commentary referring repeatedly to Jewish suffering during the holocaust while occasionally dropping some insight into the personal lives of either Kevin Smith or Scott Mosier and/or their friends and family […]”
Kira Mathis and Mary Krasnoperova sulk in Jaschar Marktanner’s short “LABEL”
Jaschar L Marktanner’s 2014 short “LABEL” features a pair of German women (Kira Mathis and Mary Krasnoperova) giving voice to various seemingly petty grievances over cigarettes and coffee in a café – the caffeine, nicotine, and complaints constituting addictive and what might be considered quintessentially “First World problems”. Cigarettes never last long enough, the coffee cups are too small, and so forth. This man and that man, the women continuously gripe, are bastards and sons of bitches. Nothing, in short, is as they desire it. The viewer is left to speculate: what is the source of this ennui? What, furthermore, informs their apparent loathing of men?
Significantly, the film opens with a quotation from the Austrian author Heimito von Doderer, who for a time espoused National Socialism: “In a good conversation the pauses are as important as the talking itself.” The viewer, then, is invited to find the meaning in what is left unsaid between the two morose conversationalists. Germany, which since 1945 has not been a truly sovereign nation, today more than ever lives under a hostile occupation. The women allude, perhaps unconsciously, to the demographic disaster being perpetrated against their people in their ambiguous talk about “aliens”. A subservient German establishment, publicly represented by Zionist puppets like Chancellor Angela Merkel, has, in its complicity in the implementation of the Coudenhove-Kalergi plan for the dysgenic reconfiguration of Europe, reduced the continent’s once-proud men to powerless and effeminized cuckolds. “Did you just see that wanker?” Krasnoperova asks. “Waitressing is just a job for a true son of a bitch.” “Cigarettes are so crippled,” Mathis observes on the subject of this phallic insufficiency. Germany’s women, moreover, are mere shiksa livestock, a degradation symbolized by Krasnoperova’s nose ring (Jeff Lieberman’s classic short “The Ringer” comes to mind).
Two pictures hung on the wall behind them – a horse and butterfly – are images representative of the natural order, free and beautiful archetypes of masculine and feminine actualization that contrast with the morbid and sterile reality of the generic urban setting. “That’s how them up there want to keep things rolling,” Krasnoperova says with reference to an unnamed and remote elite. “Holding us pawns down.” “Just some real sons of a bitch,” agrees Mathis. “Yeah, and nobody’s doing anything about it,” Krasnoperova continues. “Something must be done about that,” the other declares. “Yeah, but there are only spazzes. What is there left to do?” At this point the two women indict the audience in its complaisance by breaking the fourth wall and glaring directly into the camera.
The viewer is implicated.
Once the waiter approaches and asks if everything was alright, however, the women instantly change their tune, feigning smiles and reassuring him that “everything was great.” The pair finds themselves constrained by Europeans’ pathological sense of propriety – the self-destructive determination not to be the cause of offense. “What a freak,” Krasnoperova says of him after he goes away. “Just a typical victim of the society of sons of a bitch,” diagnoses Mathis. Notwithstanding their discontent and the impending death of their civilization, they cannot bring themselves to address problems openly. Like Marktanner himself, they find means of communicating under regimes of censorship. The status quo, however, if continued to fester and to dismantle their civilization, will start to present Europeans with fewer First World problems than quandaries of the Third World variety.
The goofy espionage thriller The Sum of All Fears (2002), adapted from one of Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan novels, contains a speech by its principal villain, the elite crypto-Hitlerite terrorist mastermind Dressler (Alan Bates), which says a great deal about the burgeoning threat to their communications hegemony which some forward-looking Jews recognized in the then-recent explosion of the internet into public life. Recording his motives for posterity, Dressler simpers into a video camera:
Most people believe the twentieth century was defined by the death struggle of communism versus capitalism, and fascism was but a hiccup. Today we know better. Communism was a fool’s errand. The followers of Marx [are] gone from this earth, but the followers of Hitler abound and thrive. Hitler, however, had one great disadvantage. He lived in a time when fascism, like a virus – like the AIDS virus – needed a strong host in order to spread. Germany was that host. But strong as it was, Germany could not prevail. The world was too big. Fortunately, the world has changed. Global communications, cable TV, the internet. Today the world is smaller, and the virus does not need a strong host in order to spread. The virus is airborne. One more thing: let no man call us crazy. They called Hitler crazy, but Hitler wasn’t crazy. He was stupid. You don’t fight Russia and America; you get Russia and America to fight each other – and destroy each other.
Alan Bates as Dressler
Dressler’s speech, while it contains much stupidity, also reveals the revolutionary potentials represented by the internet in its undermining of the long quasi-monopoly enjoyed by Jewish and Zionist entertainment and the dissemination of the “news”. By removing the Jewish screen, thereby democratizing mass telecommunications, Europeans are now able to spread unmediated information to each other on a free and instantaneous basis.
The Sum of All Fears, with its hokey yarn about a neo-Nazi plot to explode a nuclear bomb at a football game and initiate a war between the United States and the former Soviet Union, perpetuates the notion that Hitler intended to conquer “the world” and that nationalists of any and every stripe, from European parliamentary presences to prison gangs, threaten to plunge the planet back into worldwide chaos with “weapons of mass destruction” if not held in check and kept under a scrupulous surveillance by the great, patriotic bunch of Americans staffing the Central Intelligence Agency. With his history of peddling junk like this, should it come as any surprise that Sum of All Fears producer Mace Neufeld was honored by the Israel Film Festival with a Lifetime Achievement Award in 2014?
To the extent that nationalism or identitarianism, and not the Jews themselves, can be accurately characterized as a parasitic “virus” occupying a “host”, the script does identify an undeniable truth: the virus can no longer be contained, and Aryan Skynet has definitely gone live. Just listen to these two Jews whimpering like trapped rats:
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YouTube might not have been the battleground that the Fuhrer envisioned, but this is where the war is being won and the dignity of the German race and Europeans in general is being reclaimed. Hellstorm, based on the book of that name by Thomas Goodrich, who addresses the viewer directly, was produced by Renegade Broadcasting‘s Kyle Hunt (not to be confused with Eric Hunt, maker of the must-see “Holocaust” documentaries The Jewish Gas Chamber Hoax, The Treblinka Archaeology Hoax, and The Majdanek Gas Chamber Myth).
Hellstorm focuses on the collapse of the Third Reich and the consequent atrocities visited on the German people by the Allies in what is commonly held to have been the “good war”. Wisely, Hunt has opted for a female voice for his film in selecting narrator Sinead McCarthy – a meaningful choice in consideration of the unfortunate fact that so much of the suffering involved women, so many millions of whom died or were tortured and raped repeatedly by Soviet forces (as well as Americans). The Hitler worship is minimal, with the emphasis squarely placed on the human element of the history, so that Hellstorm might serve as fine initiation into World War II revisionism for those who, like so many victims of Jewish brainwashing, are incapable of approaching any subject on anything but the emotional plane.
The principal feeling produced in viewers might not be empathy, however, but anger at all of the lies dispensed to them by the public indoctrination facilities (i.e., schools).
Five Stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that Hellstorm is:
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Muammar Gaddafi was one of the most remarkable leaders of the twentieth century. Taking charge of a country of impoverished illiterates at the time of his 1969 coup, he transformed Libya through his Green Revolution into a modern, secular state with extensive public works and services funded by oil revenues. Put together by Critical Productions, this YouTube documentary stands a testament to Gaddafi and to the crimes against humanity perpetrated by NATO in plunging his country into anarchy.
A creation in the style of Evidence of Revision, the program consists of arrangements of clips from television and online reportage and commentary, the end result comprising a mosaic that forms a picture of one of the greatest travesties and human catastrophes this century will hopefully ever witness. As the title indicates, such horrors frequently hinge on wordplay and who or what is or is not deemed “terrorist” in the western government-media matrix. The film instructs viewers to come to their own conclusions, but only one verdict is possible or sensible after watching Semantics: The Rise and Fall of Muammar “Mad Dog” al Gathafi.
4.5 out of 5 stars. Ideological Content Analysis indicates that Semantics is:
5. PC, never once mentioning Jews or the Zionist order. There is, furthermore, a suggestion that the United States is particularly opposed to African self-determination, as if any other nationalisms are somehow acceptable. Libyan blacks are shown to have suffered after Gaddafi’s downfall. The Colonel’s friendly relations with Nelson Mandela are offered as evidence of his moral superiority.
4. Media-critical, pointing to misrepresentations of the Libyan situation in “news” reports.
3. Populist, celebrating Gaddafi’s Libyan iteration of national socialism. Electricity was free for Libyans, and farming and other endeavors and services were heavily subsidized by the state. In accordance with traditional morality, zero interest was paid on loans. The Green Revolution represented a nationalist third position ideology – that is, neither communist nor capitalist – always a threatening prospect to globalist interests.
2. Anti-bankster and anti-establishment, whether that establishment takes the form of Republican or Democrat, NATO or the United Nations. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton come across as particularly reprehensible. Anybody even considering voting for Hillary Clinton should be compelled to watch Semantics: The Rise and Fall of Muammar “Mad Dog” al Gathafi. Gaddafi’s intention to demand that Libyan oil be paid in African dinars rather than U.S. dollars is suggested as one plausible motive for the toppling of his government.
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Anyway, people commonly assume the movie is anti-White because the evil alien children have blond hair (actually it’s white), but it is so obviously about the Jews.
The real giveaway occurs after they have created so much animosity among the townspeople because they have been causing many people to destroy themselves. They all suddenly decide to move into an old barn outside of town for their own protection. They then order everyone to bring them supplies so they can sustain themselves.
Could there be a more obvious analogy about Israel?
“John Carpenter’s movies, all except possibly [. . .] Prince of Darkness, deal with the Jewish question,” Fink goes on. “The Thing and They Live are obvious examples. Village of the Damned is packed with references to Jewish behavior. Once you see it I know you will agree with me.”
This writer would be hard-pressed to explain how such Carpenter classics as Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), Halloween (1978), Christine (1983), or Big Trouble in Little China (1986) “deal with the Jewish question”; but the argument has certainly been advanced that They Live (1988) is rife with such resonances, with some even suggesting that the “Hoffman” lenses in the film, which allow people to recognize the manipulative aliens that surround them, are a reference to the work of Michael A. Hoffman II.
What about Village of the Damned? Along with the original 1960 movie, the story is based on the 1957 novel The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham. Film historian Steve Haberman, in his audio commentary on the 1960 version, calls it a “fairly faithful adaptation” of the book by Wyndham, whom he characterizes as an author of “respectable bestsellers” – which suggests that Wyndham’s work was ideologically unobjectionable and therefore promoted by the entertainment establishment.
The Midwich Cuckoos (1957)
Luke O’Farrell, writing at Heretical, sees in The Midwich Cuckoos an anti-Semitic message similar to what Fink reads into the John Carpenter film:
Mass immigration. I started thinking about it the other day when I was reading John Wyndham’s novel The Midwich Cuckoos (1957). It’s about an English village in which women are impregnated by a mysterious alien race. Someone starts to wonder about the aliens’ motives:
If you were wishful to challenge the supremacy of a society that was fairly stable, and quite well weaponed, what would you do? Would you meet it on its own terms by launching a probably costly, and certainly destructive, assault? Or, if time were no great importance, would you prefer to employ a version of a more subtle tactic? Would you, in fact, try somehow to introduce a fifth column, to attack it from within?
In the 1950s, when The Midwich Cuckoos was first published, White societies were very stable and very well-weaponed, and a direct assault on them would certainly have been costly. So the alien race that wanted to challenge their supremacy didn’t launch a direct assault. Instead, just as that John Wyndham character suggested, they introduced a fifth column to attack it from within.
Who was the alien race? Jews, of course. And what was their fifth column? It was non-whites.
Amazon reviewer Allen Smalling, however, says of the Folio Society’s edition of The Midwich Cuckoos that its foreword by Adam Roberts
makes rather too stringent a case, in my opinion, that the Midwich children represented a “subject race” much as Jews did under Nazi Germany. I don’t hold with that interpretation, but it is worth noting that the children in the book were rather dark-complected, arguably Semitic in appearance, unlike the blond Aryan types portrayed in the 1960 movie.
There seems to be some disagreement among putative readers, though, as to how Wyndham actually describes the unearthly children in his book. Haberman, in his Village of the Damned (1960) commentary, claims the novel describes them as having “gleaming golden hair”. Not having read The Midwich Cuckoos, this writer is in no position to referee, so any reader who happens to know is invited to chime in on this matter.
Village of the Damned (1960)
Haberman relates that Village of the Damned screenwriter Stirling Silliphant, who would go on to pen In the Heat of the Night (1967), claimed that MGM was “appalled to find that they had bought what they termed an anti-Catholic film. Apparently studio executives felt that the impregnation of village women paralleled the Immaculate Conception.” Consequently, MGM sent the script to its British branch with a lower budget and instructions for a rewrite.
The film was directed by Wolf Rilla, a Jew whose family emigrated to London after Hitler came to power. “In this film, these aliens become little traitors in our own homes, sort of like space-crafted Hitler Youth,” says Haberman, who adds that “it may go back to our portrayal of the enemy in World War II – the Nazi superman who was sold to the world as physically and mentally superior but obviously lacked any moral sense whatsoever.”
Martin Stephens as David in Village of the Damned (1960)
Stormfront poster JohnJoyTree says, “I fear Wyndham was a typical liberal in racial matters. Consider The Midwich Cookoos [. . .] with its blue/blonde alien supermen who must be wiped out: or The Crysalids, where the persecuted ‘racially impure’ telepathic mutants are the inheritors of the Earth: etc etc.” Of the anti-war, pro-disarmament Village of the Damned sequel Children of the Damned (1963), in which a new, multicultural crop of super-evolved youngsters offers the liberal dream of a one-world peace to end the Cold War, Wyndham is said by screenwriter John Briley to have “liked it very much”.
A Mondoweiss commenter, meanwhile, finds parallels in The Midwich Cuckoos with both the Nazis and Israeli settler zealots:
What I hear of the settler children reminds me of the Midwich Cuckoos, the creation of the 1950s science fiction writer John Wyndham. They are children with strange, malevolently used powers based on their ability to think and feel as a group. As I remember they are described in very Aryan fashion, so the story seems like a satire on how what began as a bunch of deluded children became the irresistible German army of 1940. But totally shared thinking is not dangerous for one race only.
Blogger MPorcius offers the following insights into Wyndham’s 1955 novel The Chrysalids, in which the mutant minority protagonists “begin to receive telepathic messages from New Zealand”:
Christianity in the novel is an oppressive scam; women have large fabric crosses sewn onto their dresses, and in a scene late in the novel the fleeing mutant women cut these devices off their clothing, symbolizing their liberation. Maybe these crosses are supposed to remind us of the Crusaders? I often think these oppressed-minority-with-special-powers stories are allegories about anti-Semitism, and Wyndham’s naming the main character David, and inclusion of a debate among the mutants about whether it is wise to marry “Norms,” encourages such suspicions. Maybe we should see New Zealand as akin to Israel?
Thomas Dekker as David in Village of the Damned (1995)
If a protagonist’s name in The Chrysalids reinforces the notion that he and his party are Jews, however, does this not also argue in favor of the Midwich children being Jew stand-ins in Village of the Damned? The lead alien child is named David in both movie adaptations. If Fink is correct and the movie is an allegory about the Jewish menace, then why make them so exaggeratedly fair-haired and dress them in vaguely fascistic black coats as they march in stiff lockstep like movie Nazis? Are these features fig leaves to hide the author’s or the filmmakers’ true intentions – iconographic red herrings, perhaps? What characteristics do the children have that might have prompted Fink to see them as symbolic of the Jewish state?
For one, they are aliens – outsiders – and maintain an intensely exclusive group identity. They are cruel and sadistic, for another, and separate themselves geographically by moving into a barn on the edge of the village. In the 1960 film this is mandated by the authorities, whereas in Carpenter’s version this little exodus is their choice. Then there is the implacable vengefulness and control-freakiness exhibited by the children. Obliteration – a Holocaust, perhaps? – will “not happen to us because we have to survive – no matter what the cost,” proclaims David (Martin Stephens) in the 1960 film. “You [gentiles?] have to be taught to leave us alone.” The David (Thomas Dekker) in the John Carpenter version delivers a very similar harangue.
Another alteration that the remake’s screenwriter, David Himmelstein, makes in adapting the original is that Christians are the most forcefully opposed to the alien children, with local reverend Mark Hamill actually attempting to shoot them in one scene. Is Himmelstein attempting to warn the viewer that Christianity is their best and only buttress against the Jew World Order? Given that Hamill and his supporters are unsuccessful and come across as rather crazed, one suspects that this was not the intention.
The fact, too, that Himmelstein wrote the script to Sidney Lumet’s film Power (1986), which attempts to scare the gullible with the Jonesian specter of Arab influence in American media and politics, would also tend to militate against interpreting Himmelstein’s Village of the Damned screenplay as a well-intentioned warning to the gentiles. Then, too, there is the fact that abortion, had the mothers in the story chosen to go that route, would have obviated the ultimate mass-murder of the children that brings the story to its resolution. This hardly seems like a Christian solution.
John Carpenter on the set of They Live (1988)
Is John Carpenter an anti-Semite? The answer clearly hinges on the subtext of They Live. “If you sat Abe Foxman down and made him sit through They Live there would be little doubt that he would begin to see this as a critique on Jews [and] on Jewish culture,” writes Robert Phoenix, “though Carpenter was really assailing Reaganite conservative culture at the time.” Numerous movies attacked conformist consumerism during the eighties, with similar themes receiving satirical sci-fi treatment in The Stuff (1985) and Happy Hour (1986), both films made with heavy Jewish participation. But does it ultimately matter whether They Live is intentionally anti-Semitic or not? Whatever Carpenter’s intentions in making They Live – and, for that matter, Village of the Damned – white nationalists can enjoy these movies as entertainments and as illustrative realizations of those aspects of the present order they must continue to combat. They Live lives – and so do the memes.
Jesus-believing U.S. Constitutionalist EXPOSING Satanic globalist SCAMS & TRAITORS in Kansas, America, and the World at-large. Jesus and BIBLE Truth SHALL PREVAIL!
Then comes a sassy succession of late-80s-sounding Terminator-X-style hip-hop sounds and quaint computer noises. Keeping the scenery in flux, the album evokes a windswept expanse of blue desert followed by a slick retrofuturistic club beat, after which the listener is treated to a truly inspiring vapor track sampling the Commodores’ “Easy” over determined pulses of synth ascending into triumph. The vocal is spaced out – way out – so that the listener can believe it and feel it when told, “I wanna be high – so high.” This moment alone was so glorious that I actually felt a bit bad about having paid so little to own this awesome tape.
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