Sunday 1 November 2015

Need a laugh? Just read cultural Marxist Laurie Penny on the new James Bond film

"The problem with the way we watch Bond is not that Bond is a killer. I rather like films about serial killers, those gory thrillers that seduce you into rooting for the twisted anti-hero over the good guy. The problem with Bond is that he is supposed to be the good guy. He is a borderline rapist who is employed by the government to murder people – and yet he is not an anti-hero. He is just a hero... Bond is a hero for no other reason than that he is on our side, which is how most western nations and particularly the British come to terms with their particular legacy of horror – with a quiet embarrassment that nonetheless knows how to defend itself by force."

Well, she's spot on  there. And while we're on the subject, it really is time we modern men stopped pathetically hero-worshipping those WWII commandos who routinely snuck up on unsuspecting German soldiers and slit their throats. Typical male psychopaths - that's all they were. As for Britain's particular "legacy of horror" - I presume that would include being the first nation on earth to outlaw slavery, and stopping the spread of Spain's particularly enlightened brand of colonialism, and standing alone against the Nazi menace, and, more recently, playing a vital role in bringing Soviet communism to a juddering halt. No wonder Britain is quietly embarrassed about its dreadful past. Ditto the Americans, who, of course, have even more to be ashamed of. What did they ever do for the world? (Apart from that tired old defeating communism and Nazism crap. Follow Obama's lead and get over yourselves, already!)

With the benefit of an intellect finely honed by a private school education, young Penny eventually reaches the heart of the matter:
The dilemma of James Bond is a pantomime version of the dilemma facing most men who grew up watching the films and wondering what it would be like to be that guy, whom everybody seems to love not in spite of the awful things he does but because of them. In real life, anyone who behaved even slightly like James Bond would be ostracised, arrested, or both. And that is the problem. Bond is still supposed to be a hero but if you knew him in real life, you would be warning all your friends not to invite him to their parties. That disconnect follows men home from the cinema and into their daily lives, because most of the behaviours that are supposed to make you a hero – the things you are still supposed to do if you want to be a strong, respected, manly man – also make you an unqualified arsehole.
Let's face it - whenever confronted by a strong, respected, manly man, one's natural inclination is to think that they're an "unqualified arsehole" who should be locked up instantly before they do any more harm. It really is about time us chaps began to fantasise about being weak, ineffectual, despised mincers very much in touch with our feminine side. What about some action movies featuring heroes modelled on, say, Ban Ki-moon, Jimmy Carter or Herman van Rompuy?

Actually, scrub the last two - they're white, and we all know what that means:
James Bond, more than anything, is a tragic figure and his tragedy is the tragedy of white, imperialist masculinity in the 21st century. It is a tragedy of irrelevance that becomes all the more poignant and painful in the retelling. It cannot last for ever and it must not last for ever – but while it does I’ll thank you to pass me the popcorn.
Ah - white masculinity, the source of all the world's ills. It may well not last forever, Laurie (whatever "it" is) - but, until "it" has been wiped from the face of the earth, I suggest you fetch your own fucking popcorn.

You can read the rest of little Laurie's hilarious New Statesman piece here.

8 comments:

  1. A common theme in good science fiction is how difficult it might be to communicate with an alien life form, should mankind ever encounter one.

    Reading twits like Miss Penny who is, at least nominally, of our own species, suggests it could be very bloody difficult indeed.

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    1. I suspect that any alien civilisation whose first encounter with humanity involved Laurie Penny would instantly blast the planet to smithereens, just to be safe.

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  2. It's pure Mrs Dutt-Pauker. Where is Peter Simple when you need him? On the other hand, what's the point? Satire is dead.

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    1. Satire has been replaced by virtue-signalling. Michael Wharton's world has become our reality. Neville Dredberg, Dr Heinz Kiosk, Jack Moron, Doreen Gaggs, Dr Spaceley-Trellis, and the Vandals' Padre Rev. Bruce Nethers are on our TV screens every hour of every day - and Rentamob is back in action.

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  3. It's been a long time since the Nazis were around... and the Soviets took out 70% of them... I wouldn't say James Bond is a good example of white masculinity - he's a bit too crude to sum up modern masculinity accurately.

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  4. I'm grateful to Laurie Penny because clearly I have completely misunderstood the James Bond franchise all these years. I always thought of it as being rather simple escapist fun, obviously nothing like our regular humdrum lives. James Bond is handsome and virile ( that's certainly nothing like me) he has access to incredible equipment , he takes on lunatics that want to rule the world, drives cars faster than Louis Hamilton and (best of all!!) shags lots of absolutely gorgeous totty.
    I just can't imagine why an ultra left wing miserable feminist wouldn't love these movies.
    It's baffling...

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  5. "The experience was like having your forebrain slowly and laboriously beaten to death by a wilting erection wrapped in a copy of the Patriot Act: savage and silly and just a little bit pathetic."
    I gave up Ms Penney's article in the NS after reading the above in the first paragraph. Is this the most self-conscious and foolish metaphor ever written in the English language? It is certainly silly and pathetic. How do you beat a forebrain to death? What size "Schwanzstücke" -semi-flaccid or otherwise -would you need to achieve this? Etc Many questions. Perhaps Dr Starkey has the answers?

    Also, perhaps Ms P [I wonder if she is an admirer of Dutch sea defences?] has been reading the biographies of Roddy McDowell {"How Big Was My Dick"] or Errol Flynn [" Not Many of These To The Pound"].
    I was going to tell my joke about the man on the Northern Line who asked "Is this Cockfosters?", but I have forgotten the punch-line.

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    1. Perhaps the tortured metaphor occurred to Miss Penny because she regularly encounters wilting erections?

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