Confronting a Culture of Doublethink

God, Goats, & the Impossibility of Mainstreaming Dissent

Werner Herzog: Never Too Late to Sell Out

A recent detour into Werner Herzog land confirmed the adage, “It’s never too late to sell out.” Yet this may be the wrong way to look at it.

Herzog (perhaps still most famous for Aguirre the Wrath of God) went from a (seemingly) genuine “maverick” filmmaker in the 1970s (albeit one partially subsidized by the ultra-repressive German government) to a celebrated documentary filmmaker in the 2000s (Grizzly Man).  By some mysterious twist and turn of trajectory, he then wound up as an LA-based Hollywood filmmaker, playing “bad-asses” in Tom Cruise movies (Jack Reacher) and Star Wars recycled junk (The Mandalorian).

Of course, the PR insists that Herzog has retained his unique edge and integrity throughout this weird transformation process—which is a bit like someone keeping their blood purity while taking multiple doses of mRNA experimental gene therapy.

Isn’t it more helpful to see the process in reverse: Herzog (who still talks and walks like a wise elder—see the quite-enjoyable 2022 documentary Radical Dreamer) has been assimilated into the shambling behemoth called Hollywood, thereby injecting some new “respectability” into its quivering, clotted, corpse-like body. Herzog’s presence in corporate propaganda thereby serves (somewhat) to legitimize an otherwise obviously dodgy product.

This has the rather curious retroactive effect of making Herzog seem like a “lifetime actor” whose previously sterling reputation—as an independent artist-filmmaker, albeit of films I personally consider pretty bad—now looks more like the elaborate backstory of one more supercultural infiltrant.

This brings to mind the strange and grotesque case of Noam Chomsky, whose entire career as a political analyst and linguist has now been reduced to a puzzling addendum to his public avocation of ostracizing the un-vaccinated during the covid years.

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Is the X-Files adage “Trust no one” really an essential rule to apply, then, when understanding the entertainment industry, just as much as in national-global politics or big Pharma?

Does Herzog doing Jack Reacher or Disney Star Wars dreck really compromise the integrity of his earlier works? Surely not, ontologically speaking. Yet the question of how the same sensibility could invest life force into both endeavors requires an answer.

Are Harvey Weinstein’s many cinematic accomplishments forever compromised by his name being on them, in light of what is now known about him? And what then of Jimmy Savile, a man of rather questionable cultural achievements to begin with, and now of unequivocal moral infamy? Is it a double standard to “cancel” the merits of one person and not another, based on the perceived value of the good they have done, vs. the perceived gravity of the evil?

Something of this dilemma is probably behind the tendency of the red-pilled to end up black-pilled. What baby could ever be saved from the bathwater of 21^st century pollution, they may ask; especially when the toxins are so often invisible?

Porto & Land-Made Retreat

Two weeks ago, we had a conference in Porto in which I gave a performance-presentation piece on moviegoing as voluntary possession. This was followed by a mini working retreat in Galicia (three days, six people). During this latter, Luke Dodson and I worked on the main structure for a new goat house next to the main house. It was a necessary project, since we lost two goats last month to wolves.

We used four trees of varying sizes for the corner supports, birch trees from the land for beams and internal posts, free pallets and chestnut lumber at a total cost of about 120 euro.

The experience of the work retreat was in sharp contrast to just about everything else (including the conference, as enjoyable as it was).  When souls assemble together for the most basic, simple, and straightforward purpose in life, life starts to seem a lot more straightforward, simple, and basic. Improving and appreciating our natural living environment, and learning how to coexist together within it, can very quickly and easily become a positive reinforcement loop of appreciation and improvement.

One improves one’s environment by appreciating it, and seeing and addressing what needs improving naturally enhances one’s appreciation. Above all, having the experience of becoming competent within one’s environment creates an environment that is a constant reminder of one’s growing competence. To be engaged with other souls within such a project is to experience soul synchronization, by which individual, collective, and environment start to become fused into a single complementary phenomenon called “existence.” The birds and the bees.

Many souls today are lacking purpose and meaning, and making a song and dance about it, either by nihilistically lamenting it or by pursuing spiritual bypasses and cult-like displacement activities. Yet meanwhile, purpose and meaning are there, like discarded, still sturdy work tools in the dirt, just waiting to be taken up by us.

Aftermath

After everyone left, I caught a cold and was ill for three days. This is a highly unusual occurrence, no doubt related to the intensity of the preceding six days. Three days socializing in Porto, three days doing the land-retreat, and three days recuperating.

Perhaps as a result of the illness, I fell back into a familiar funk of frustration, irritation, and dissatisfaction. It was as if my identity had used the period of illness to re-establish its hold over my consciousness. I became aware of how every little thing in my field of awareness was a means for that part of me to justify, and so enflame, a feeling of resentment. Ostensibly, the feeling was directed towards my wife, or to any other physical object that threatened my sense of control; really, it was directed against life itself.

I had a dream in which my heart was represented by a knotty wooden sculpture and was being held up as a sort of icon. Jesus was there, and I knew that my knotty heart wasn’t quite in the shape it ought to be. Jesus warned me, “Do not feed your resentment.”

It seemed like sound advice and I have been trying to observe it ever since. Yet the observation is so often inseparable from the failure. I literally can’t walk across our land (especially with a full wheelbarrow) without some expression of anger and indignation. My life, as well as our land, is like a never-ending obstacle course. On the other hand, without that anger-energy, would I even be able to push past—or get around—the constant obstacles? Anger is surely good for something?

A Lowing Threshold of Tolerance

Another thing I became aware of over these last few days was how my tolerance for human fallibility seems to be in danger of bottoming out. It is as if I have reached the limits of my capacity to accommodate (what I see as) human stupidity.

For example, a very old friend (who I have not seen in 35 years and who I only knew for about a year, but who had a huge impact on my development, for better or for worse) emailed last week to say that he was going to Washington on July 1^st for seven days to “stand by Israel.” I shot back, telling him that he’d been conned and that “there is no Israel.” I felt disgust for his position; no curiosity or concern, or desire to inquire further into it; only the wild impulse to condemn.

Since my irritation lingered, I eventually emailed again to ask if he was a Christian Zionist (I knew he was Christian). He replied that, by Israel he meant “the people not the religious right.” I asked if he meant Israelis or the supposed descendants of Abraham. I then launched into a series of points meant to correct his ignorance. I quickly decided to leave out the corrections, however, and sent only the question.

Why try to correct someone who is hopelessly wrong, even delusional? Why not simply find out more about how and why they got that way? For one thing, it is a lot less stressful. (He has not replied.)

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Another source of irritation to me was a recent post by Neoliberal Feudalism about supposed “dissident” movies, a list which included Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut. I have immense respect for this writer, but this post all-but delivered the death-blow to it. What the hell has happened to the world that a film of such stark and pitiful ineptitude continues to be highly regarded by otherwise intelligent people? What kind of cognitive hijacking have we undergone, collectively, to no longer be able to discern art from pretentious drivel? (See The Kubrickon for the full answer.)

For me, the mass acceptance of covid lies and the mRNA scam is hardly more baffling or depressing than having to hear people talk about Eyes Wide Shut as a “dissident” movie.

But maybe the real question is, why does it matter to me so much?