Wednesday, September 15, 2010
May Day Eve 2010 Trailer
ViARE Presents
May Day Eve 2010
Directed by Juan Ekis
Trailer
Director: J. R. Guillermo
Cinematographer: Joachim Antonio and T.J. Aguirre
Editor: J. R. Guillermo and Joachim Antonio
Score: Joao Atienza and Ian Amane
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Sexual Revolution Will Die with a Wig On
Camille Paglia, one of the most articulate cultural defenders of the Sexual Revolution that began with the concept of reproductive freedom, is seeing the the gruesome end of her labors. And the end is personified in that un-erotic mannequin this last generation has elevated to the status of "icon", Lady Gaga.
Gaga has borrowed so heavily from Madonna (as in her latest video-Alejandro) that it must be asked, at what point does homage become theft? However, the main point is that the young Madonna was on fire. She was indeed the imperious Marlene Dietrich’s true heir. For Gaga, sex is mainly decor and surface; she’s like a laminated piece of ersatz rococo furniture. Alarmingly, Generation Gaga can’t tell the difference. Is it the death of sex? Perhaps the symbolic status that sex had for a century has gone kaput; that blazing trajectory is over…
While I do not share her admiration for the fake Madonna (I have infinitely greater love and admiration for the real one), I bemusedly share her fascination with the total collapse of what the Sexual Revolution categorizes as "erotic". After years of being told that sexual freedom is...well... sexy, it is funny how plain, boring and plastic the resulting erotica is. There is only so much capital sex can put out, stored up in century upon century of mystique and mystery. Like with the financial system, the well of that capital is not inexhaustible. We've dried up in forty years what took millenia to build up.
We have learned, to our great detriment, that sex divorced from the transcendent which gave it power becomes just another routine animal activity. Dump after you pump.
At the end of this crap-colored rainbow stands Lady Gaga, possibly the ugliest, cheesiest, creepiest living thing to be ever named a sex symbol. She is the epitome of "poseur" - a rebel bankrolled by a marketing committee; a hack promoted as an artist. One thing that Ms. Paglia seems to overlook is that borrowing from fake Madonna is not like borrowing from Mozart. It is simply because fake Madonna's brilliance, borne at the vanguard of the Sexual Revolution, cannot be sustained for it contains nothing timeless. It is a thing of the moment; a stupid thing meant to die with its moment. Among Lady Gaga's litany of mediocrities is her inability to find a better source to borrow from.
Those couples with large numbers of children which horrify the champions of the Sexual Revolution likely have a greater store of the erotic than the sterile culture-makers for whom sex is but a hobby. After all, these large-brooded couples keep having sex. Those children have to come from somewhere.
I remember a scene from the first "Godfather" movie, where Al Pacino's Michael Corleone meets Simonetta Stefanelli's Apollonia Vitelli while walking in a wheat field in Sicily. Apollonia was wearing simple purple dress, long and chaste, nothing fancy. But she radiates such a glow that Michael Corleone is dumbstruck. Their courtship occurs under the watch of Apollonia's conservative relatives, but because of this, every gesture becomes loaded with sexual tension, from her hand on a necklace to the two of them walking together. The couple are wed in church, and the movie has their first kiss come before the priest and the village. The resulting "first night" scene, where Apollonia shyly takes off her simple white nightgown in front of her husband for the first time, has more eroticism packed into it than a three-hour porno.
Unfortunately for Generation Sex, all they've been served (and are serving) for the past forty-odd years are nothing more than three-hour pornos. Long, boring, and ultimately tiring. When sex becomes this rote and pointless, I wonder if Generation Sex will even manage to get off its ass long enough to beget another.
So, this is the party at the end of the Revolution: a bunch of asexual blow-up goth dolls gyrating listlessly to "Alejandro".
Gaga has borrowed so heavily from Madonna (as in her latest video-Alejandro) that it must be asked, at what point does homage become theft? However, the main point is that the young Madonna was on fire. She was indeed the imperious Marlene Dietrich’s true heir. For Gaga, sex is mainly decor and surface; she’s like a laminated piece of ersatz rococo furniture. Alarmingly, Generation Gaga can’t tell the difference. Is it the death of sex? Perhaps the symbolic status that sex had for a century has gone kaput; that blazing trajectory is over…
While I do not share her admiration for the fake Madonna (I have infinitely greater love and admiration for the real one), I bemusedly share her fascination with the total collapse of what the Sexual Revolution categorizes as "erotic". After years of being told that sexual freedom is...well... sexy, it is funny how plain, boring and plastic the resulting erotica is. There is only so much capital sex can put out, stored up in century upon century of mystique and mystery. Like with the financial system, the well of that capital is not inexhaustible. We've dried up in forty years what took millenia to build up.
We have learned, to our great detriment, that sex divorced from the transcendent which gave it power becomes just another routine animal activity. Dump after you pump.
At the end of this crap-colored rainbow stands Lady Gaga, possibly the ugliest, cheesiest, creepiest living thing to be ever named a sex symbol. She is the epitome of "poseur" - a rebel bankrolled by a marketing committee; a hack promoted as an artist. One thing that Ms. Paglia seems to overlook is that borrowing from fake Madonna is not like borrowing from Mozart. It is simply because fake Madonna's brilliance, borne at the vanguard of the Sexual Revolution, cannot be sustained for it contains nothing timeless. It is a thing of the moment; a stupid thing meant to die with its moment. Among Lady Gaga's litany of mediocrities is her inability to find a better source to borrow from.
Those couples with large numbers of children which horrify the champions of the Sexual Revolution likely have a greater store of the erotic than the sterile culture-makers for whom sex is but a hobby. After all, these large-brooded couples keep having sex. Those children have to come from somewhere.
I remember a scene from the first "Godfather" movie, where Al Pacino's Michael Corleone meets Simonetta Stefanelli's Apollonia Vitelli while walking in a wheat field in Sicily. Apollonia was wearing simple purple dress, long and chaste, nothing fancy. But she radiates such a glow that Michael Corleone is dumbstruck. Their courtship occurs under the watch of Apollonia's conservative relatives, but because of this, every gesture becomes loaded with sexual tension, from her hand on a necklace to the two of them walking together. The couple are wed in church, and the movie has their first kiss come before the priest and the village. The resulting "first night" scene, where Apollonia shyly takes off her simple white nightgown in front of her husband for the first time, has more eroticism packed into it than a three-hour porno.
Unfortunately for Generation Sex, all they've been served (and are serving) for the past forty-odd years are nothing more than three-hour pornos. Long, boring, and ultimately tiring. When sex becomes this rote and pointless, I wonder if Generation Sex will even manage to get off its ass long enough to beget another.
So, this is the party at the end of the Revolution: a bunch of asexual blow-up goth dolls gyrating listlessly to "Alejandro".
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