We two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm’d and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving.
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving,
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on
the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray.
« Plus est en vous »
Creators of the wonderful
Hither and thither
For the ignorant masses
Multiplicating knowledge infinite
Where hides the music
In your catechetic pornography, proud and vain ?
None there seems to be, not even silent, that I can hear
All you erudite hammers hammering
In the unquiet void…
Eclipsed by truth
To be followed,
Where are your questions ?
What do you stimulate,
Of one hegemony the other fighting
As ever childishly
Encaged, enchained by vulgar chimaeras ?
Exhibitionists of an ego that is all about ideas,
Is this the meaning of it all ?
Is this it ?
Is this at all ?
Of the terrible doubt of appearances,
Of the uncertainty after all, that we may be deluded,
That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all,
That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only,
May-be the things I perceive, the animals, plants, men, hills,
shining and flowing waters,
The skies of day and night, colors, densities, forms, may-be these
are (as doubtless they are) only apparitions, and the real
something has yet to be known,
(How often they dart out of themselves as if to confound me and mock me!
How often I think neither I know, nor any man knows, aught of them,)
May-be seeming to me what they are (as doubtless they indeed but seem)
as from my present point of view, and might prove (as of course they
would) nought of what they appear, or nought anyhow, from entirely
changed points of view;
To me these and the like of these are curiously answer’d by my
lovers, my dear friends,
When he whom I love travels with me or sits a long while holding me
by the hand,
When the subtle air, the impalpable, the sense that words and reason
hold not, surround us and pervade us,
Then I am charged with untold and untellable wisdom, I am silent, I
require nothing further,
I cannot answer the question of appearances or that of identity
beyond the grave,
But I walk or sit indifferent, I am satisfied,
He ahold of my hand has completely satisfied me.
Two examples (Many more left in this suite…)
Mais soudain, l’Archidruide-Pendragon s’exclama :
— Bon sang de bonsoir, pour qu’il en soit ainsi, nous avons oublié l’essentiel ! Par ici la laitue du diable, Korridwen !
— Amen, fit l’assemblée.
Pourquoi baigner de tes pleurs
La verte fougère ;
Lorsque sur les prés en fleurs
Rit mainte bergère ?
Folâtrant au bord des bois,
Le long des grands hêtres,
Le printemps gonfle la voix
Des flûtes champêtres…
Allons ! souris au printemps,
Gentille Colette :
Et dansons quelques instants,
Sur l’herbe follette !
Frôlée par les ombres des morts
Sur l’herbe où le jour s’exténue
L’arlequine s’est mise nue
Et dans l’étang mire son corps
Un charlatan crépusculaire
Vante les tours que l’on va faire
Le ciel sans teinte est constellé
D’astres pâles comme du lait
Sur les tréteaux l’arlequin blême
Salue d’abord les spectateurs
Des sorciers venus de Bohême
Quelques fées et les enchanteurs
Ayant décroché une étoile
Il la manie à bras tendu
Tandis que des pieds un pendu
Sonne en mesure les cymbales
L’aveugle berce un bel enfant
La biche passe avec ses faons
Le nain regarde d’un air triste
Grandir l’arlequin trismégiste.
Ambitieux poussés par une même faim,
Urbain au geste digne, et voyou de la rue,
Racaille, paysan qui laisse sa charrue,
Ils vont dans l’ignoré défier le destin.
Sous un ciel sans soleil poursuivant son chemin,
Au milieu de la plaine inquiétante et nue,
C’est peut-être à la mort que court cette cohue
Ruée aveuglément à son espoir lointain…
Affamés qui jouez contre l’or votre vie,
Foule dont l’âme avide au gain est asservie,
Arrêtez-vous devant l’exemple du passé !
Mesurez jusqu’au bout l’immense et blanc suaire,
Écoutez la chanson que la bise polaire
Souffle à travers les os jonchant le sol glacé !
C’est faire abus de l’esprit de justice que de travestir le droit par capitalisation de sa méconnaissance par l’autre.
C’est faire abus de l’éthique de l’homme que de l’enchaîner au droit.
Comme une redondance sémantique, elle tourne en rond
N’honore-t-elle la nuit Kalipyge
Qui, tant est nécessaire le relâchement
Ne saurait perdurer
Que si le jour est ténébreux
Et le dessein maléfique
Même alors cependant que le temps d’un instant
Sinon l’ombre d’un Soir
Pas plus détruire par conséquent
La voilà qui s’affole
En un mouvement sinistrogyre inversé
Qui n’a de gauche que l’allure
Fuyant à rebrousse-temps
Le révolu par sa simple évocation
Pour finir par le retrouver
En une alternance du semblable
Dans laquelle ne changent que les positions
Qui de la Monade aurait surgi
Et de mitose virtuelle en virtuelle mitose
Et du pareil au même
Et vertu versa
Le couple comme dictature de l’ennui
La Monade réintégrerait
Après le trépas
N’ayant reproduit qu’à son image
Et ayant réprimé son esprit
En une course folle
Où la vie dans la mort est figée
Et l’extrémité d’une chandelle
De la plus absurde des façons
Sans que l’Absurde s’y distingue
Avec l’autre se confond
Des myriades de papillons aux milles couleurs
A l’éternité condamnés
Par un ordre qui la bêtise a fait reine
Au terne d’une incarcération chrysalidienne prolongée
Forward rewind de la conformité
Tout ne changeant au fond que pour ne rien changer
Néologiser la vie peut attendre !
0:09 : the childish regression it seems to reveal – although, to some extent, it is in line with Fleck’s profession – sure gives the scene a distinctively weird cachet, but Fleck does timidly apologize and he doesn’t insist after that, does he ? So, why would you conclude he has “a problem” with the mother of that child ? And why should that fantasized problem be due to the fact she’s black ? Question your own angle, lady !
Frankly, if not for those caveats, this scene, taken separately, could be the slightly deranged version of the lead actress’s overall attitude in Mike Leigh’s Happy Go Lucky, if you ask me… It’s all a matter of interpretation : there’s no violence on his part here, just some weirdness indeed as he’s innocently pushing the boundaries of an abstract set of conventions known as common decency, without causing any harm to either woman or child, or even actually frightening them, for that matter.
You’re looking at that woman’s blackness and you’re thinking : I’ve got to underline that singularity, then you’re blowing it out of proportion, but when you’re looking at his mental inadaptation, it wouldn’t cross your mind to ask yourself what the best way to manage this kind of situation in everyday life, when the purported cuckoos are not locked up in their nest and pumped full of opioids, might be. Some empathy ! Moreover, he hasn’t yet committed any crime at that point. He’s not yet the psychopath going on a killing spree easily arousing legitimate disgust; he’s just a lone underdog…
“It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society”, reads one of the most famous quotes from the late Indian meditator Krishnamurti, who, while contentious to some in some of his teachings, has been inspiring, at least in Europe, many a protesting millennial. Would claiming Fleck is beginning to adjust as of the moment he is starting to give way to his appetite for destruction an overstatement, a heretic’s fantasy ?
0:21 : again, does the nature of the incomprehension he’s pointing out have anything to do with the color of his interlocutor’s skin ? I, mean, beside in your own mind, of course… Would he have found solace in a white social worker’s tender care ? Is this about a color as it is for the bull facing the toreador’s muleta or about the system somehow laying the groundwork for the corrida ?
0:34 : but that’s what everyone expects of him, even when he obviously can’t, hence the forced, meaningless laughter !
0:40 : and you also have to wonder whence your obsession with archetypes comes…
1:33 : which obviously your neurons weren’t able to grasp : it’s Jesus turning bad before the world’s cold emptiness, and refusing to turn his first cheek a second time, for God’s sake !
1:41 : so, in the end, is the movie conveying a pro- or an anti-modern slavery message (cf. Chomsky), because it’s hard to follow…
1:49 : yes, everything is so simple, and so too is caring for others. That « some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you, some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused » and all of those, therefore, are functionality freaks should not distract you in any way… I mean, grow up, lady : the human being borders on complex, and of narcissism, there are thousands of shades.
2:05 : but how do the director’s (alleged) intentions matter in critiquing a film ? As Jacques Brel once said about « Quand on n’a que l’amour« , which he ended up disliking, once a work of art is out there, it no longer belongs to the one who gave shape to it… Before becoming a disputable philosophical and political notion, Postmodernism grew up to be a most honorable artistic tendency relying to a very large extent on a multiplicity of profane interpretations of the various works, including political ones, thereby turning viewers into active participants, making art demos-accessible and rejecting any definitive judgement (such as yours); the creator’s actual intentions only came second…
2:27 : I decree ! I decree ! I decree ! And I do so by the infinite perspicacity vested in me, which, in the name of inquisitorial materialism, makes me equate Joker with a movie by the Dardenne brothers, that is to say “a real movie” with cinematic realism, while I childishly promote the sacrosanct binary division between ‘winners’ and ‘losers’ without ever questioning the pertinence of that framing as it pertains to diversity, the respective attribution of those qualities to “real people”, the goals it is meant to achieve or the status and ambitions of those implementing said goals…
2:57 : shut up, (anonymous) woman, or I swear… I’m gonna bitch-slap you with nasty metaphors ‘til Kingdom come ! Usually, real people don’t have the hubris to speak in the name of all real people, and those who do should refrain from it ! By the way, what provocation are you talking about ? Laughing a little too loudly, perhaps, daring to talk back ?… Yes, but, Your Honor, her miniskirt was so provoking, you know… I mean, she asked for it… A variant : Your Honor, with all due respect, those two faggots kissing in public were really provoking me ! Sieg Heil !
3:13 : agreed… M. Night Shyamalan has a twisted mind. And, as Michael Garner or – dare I say ? – Joshua Brown, another Michael’s homonym, would tell you if they were still alive, there’s no need for any member of any particular community to feel particularly paranoid or depressed. Then again, how can you be so sure Fleck is not an altered Jewish name and the whiteness of his skin not merely an optical illusion calling for a perspective reversal ? Isn’t prejudice the consequence of refusing to see beyond the artificiality of categories and first impressions ? Nah, you’re probably right : not unlike bullying, scapegoating is but a myth… for real !
3:22 : even if you believe what you say, and what you say is true (Aah ! Aah ! Aah ! Aah ! Aah! Aaaahh ! Aah !), some movies may, like cartoons, resort to hyperbole and emphasize particular traits, not necessarily to turn characters into archetypes of the real (There’s no reason to deconstruct what’s not there…), but, on the contrary, to individualize them. As for hyperbolizing situations, it may be useful to get a message across with greater intensity, and, while it’s not always the case, the message here, whether you like it or not, is of a troubling social kind : distorting though the mirror may unfortunately be as to the prevalent role of stereotypical backgrounds in generating violent crime and “superpredators” (good progressive point there !), it’s hard to say it just doesn’t reflect anything, isn’t it ?
Whether what the movie suggests or seems to suggest as possible causes for critical outbursts of extreme violence is relevant or not, what is most revealing in your bogus four-minute investigation is that, all in all, the mass murderer in Fleck is being far less subjected to your moral condemnations than the White-Male™ underdog, who, even though innocent still, is taking most of the blame, and required to behave like “real men” do, without a moment of hesitation, without an ounce of frailty, without a shadow of sensibility. Could it be that some brand of Feminism, while ambitioning to liberate women from any kind of stereotype designed to keep them subservient, only tolerates a man, much like the alt-right by the way, if they remain the caricature of one ?…