Last year, Spencer Dew wrote a piece about The Nutcracker for Sightings that I really liked and I meant to get it up before Christmas actually came, but since the Christmas tree in our living room is still up, I think it's not too late.
I have always had a great fondness for Tchaikovsky since I was first introduced to him and Rimsky-Korsakov in music class at St. Timothy's elementary school. I listen to the entire score of both The Nutcracker and Swan Lake nearly every week, and so I was pleased to be able to see the Carolina Ballet's production of The Nutcracker and Black Swan (both of which were great) two weekends ago.
What Nietzsche called ressentiment has crept into the murderous motivations of the antihero of Showtime's serial killer drama Dexter.
Dexter, a serial killer who preys on serial killers, used to be an emotionless flat-affect void like the type identified in Mark Seltzer's Wound Culture, motivated by bloodlust channeled into more or less acceptable channels by his police detective stepfather,
The "code" that Dexter's stepfather programmed into him when he discovered the boy exhibiting the early traits of a serial killer, specifically killing animals (he may have wet his bed and set fires as well to fit the classic pattern but the show does not tell us), assured that Dexter would only kill those who were a) likely to kill again and b) had somehow escaped the justice of legitimate law enforcement.
This is an article I wrote in the summer of 2008 as a sequel to this unexpectedly controversial article. It never got published, so I thought I'd trot it out here. The music is fantastic.
In the late 1960s, a TV production consultant named William "Shipen" Lebzelter "dropped out" of his life and moved into an abandoned fourth-floor loft in the East Village. Then, together with his close friend Phillip "Ariel" Dross, Shipen embarked on a spiritual quest, exploring disciplines like Kundalini Yoga and Tibetan Buddhism before, in his own words he was, "knocked by Christ off [his] horse."
Shipen's loft, already a meeting place for young village people caught up in the hippie commune vibes of the late 60's, soon became a center for born again Christians (sometimes as many as forty) to meet, pray and meditate.
My pal Ben, who works on Sri Lanka, has written a nice piece on Buddhism as a religion of war. You can read it here.
And for more info about early modern European views of Buddhism as a nihilistic worldview, you can read Nietzsche or Roger-pol Droit's The Cult of Nothingness: The Philosophers and the Buddha.
"A Bad Girl knows what she wants and how to get it. She makes her own way, makes her own rules and she makes no apologies. A Bad Girl blazes her own trail and removes obstacles from her path. A Bad Girl fights and forces her way to the top with style and beauty. A Bad Girl believes in jumping first and looking later. People will love you. People will hate you. Others will secretly wish to be you. A Bad Girl is you."
This week's pick is the 1922 Swedish/Danish co-production Haxan or Witchcraft through the Ages. This is the original longer version without the William S. Burroughs narration or the free jazz soundtrack. Instead, the soundtrack is early 20th century recordings of Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Schubert, and others. I like the way it sounds so much I just play the movie in a separate window while I'm working to listen to the music.
If you've never seen it, it's an exposition of beliefs about witches in medieval and early modern Europe (including lots of recreations) that ends with a coda about the rationalization of witchcraft beliefs into modern concepts about mental illness.
You can watch this entire brilliant Swedish movie online here.
I am trying to slowly but surely get this blog back on its feet after months of neglect, so here's a start. This article from the November 12 New York Times mentions Jeff Kripal and his work at the AAR, but sadly not the panel on which he sat when he gave his paper on Charles Fort.
India’s complicated relationship with homosexuality has taken another turn as tourist-driven business try to take advantage of the recent decriminalization of same-sex relations to steal the lucrative gay tourist market away from Southeast Asia.
This New York Times article discusses the new developments and India’s most visible gay leader, Manvendra Singh Gohil. You can read it here.
This essay was adapted from a lectureI gave at Depaul University on May 5, 2010 to Dr. Jeremy Biles’ Religion and Film class.Most would say that the modern horror film begins with Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho in 1960, which sets up the morality of the slasher film. The startling thing about Psycho is that the main character is murdered in the first act of the film. Why? Because she's a thief. This initial murder becomes boilerplate and is found in movies from Halloween to Jaws.
The morality of the slasher film can be summed up by Romans 6:23, "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
The movie begins with a scene that recalls Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit. I believe that James Wan wants us to think about this play and the existential dilemma it represents. And especially the play's famous line "Hell is other people."
What does this mean? The play is about four people locked in a room together in what they soon realize is Hell. As they wait for the torturers to come and talk to each other about their past lives, they soon realize that they are each others' torturers.
This is very much the situation in the first scene when we meet the two nameless men chained up in a room with a dead and decomposing body. Ten minutes in, we finally hear the voice of Jigsaw playing on a tape recorder:
Rise and shine, Adam. You’re probably wondering where you are. I’lltell you where you might be. You might be in the room that you die in. Up untilnow, you simply sat in the shadows, watching others live out their lives.But what do voyeurs see when they look into the mirror? Now, I see you as a strange mix of someone angry and yet apathetic. But mostly just pathetic. So are you going to watch yourself die today, Adam? Or do something about it?
After this we get the scene of the tape recorder. Dr. Gordon wants Adam to throw him the tape player, but Adam refuses and demands that he throw the tape. This exchange introduces one of the recurring themes of the Saw movies and it can best be summed up by a well-known and anonymous old parable. Here's a version from the Internet.
A man spoke with the Lord about heaven and hell. The Lord said to the man, "Come, I will show you hell."They entered a room where a group of people sat around a huge pot of stew. Everyone was famished, desperate and starving. Each held a spoon that reached the pot, but each spoon had a handle so much longer than their own arm that it could not be used to get the stew into their own mouths. The suffering was terrible.
"Come, now I will show you heaven," the Lord said after a while. They entered another room, identical to the first -- the pot of stew, the group of people, the same long-handled spoons. But there everyone was happy and well-nourished. "I don't understand," said the man. "Why are they happy here when they were miserable in the other room and everything was the same?"
The Lord smiled, "Ah, it is simple," he said. "Here they have learned to feed each other."
What does Jigsaw say to Dr. Gordon?
Dr. Gordon, this is your wake up call. Every day of your working life, you have given people the news that they are going to die soon. Now you will be the cause of death. Your aim in this game is to kill Adam.) You have until six on the clock to do it. There’s a man in the room with you. When there’s that much poison in your blood the only thing left to do is shoot yourself. There are ways to win this hidden all around you.
Just remember: X marks the spot for the treasure. If you do not kill Adam by 6:00, then Alison and Diana [wife and daughter] will die, Dr. Gordon. And I’ll leave you in this room to rot. Let the game begin. Follow your heart.
At about the 15 minute mark Dr. Gordon realizes that they are meant to saw through their legs and then that they are in the clutches of Jigsaw.
If I had to sum up the morality of Saw with a Bible verse, it would be Matt 5:30, "And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell."
Hell is other people, but in Saw it's the only way out of the real Hell, which is the alienation of modernity.
The nearest antecedent to Saw is the 1995 film Se7en, where Kevin Spacey tortures to death people who commit the seven deadly sins using their own sins against them in a way inspired by Dante's Inferno.
But in Saw, suffering is not punishment, but redemption. Jigsaw is ultimately out to help people.
As to the whodunit of who Jigsaw is, we see him over and over again. First as a corpse in the room with Adam and Dr. Gordon. Then as Dr. Gordon's unconscious patient with an inoperable brain tumor.
23 minutes in, we meet Amanda, a former junky who becomes a disciple and then a protégé of Jigsaw.
The salvation of Amanda represents what film theorists refers to as the partial de-acoustamatization of Jigsaw. He has only been a voice on a tape, then becomes for her the image of the puppet then the puppet itself.
Like God in the story of Abraham and Isaac, Dharma testing the wisdom of Yudhishthira in the Mahabharata, and The Wizard of Oz, Jigsaw is represented as an acousmetre. “Acousmetre” is a term first used by early 20th century theorist and avant-garde composer Pierre Schaeffer (check out some of his musique concretehere) to describe a sound heard from an unseen source via some kind of mediator like a radio or a record player.
De-acousmatization is when the source is revealed, like when Dorothy pulls back the curtain to show the diminutive man behind the Great and Powerful Oz.
The voice of Jigsaw comes to us when characters in the movie play tapes marked “play me” (evoking images of Alice in Wonderland) or through his talking puppet avatar. The puppet, which is first seen by Amanda, represents a partial de-acousmatization. We see a source for the sound, and since the puppet is built like a ventriloquist’s dummy with a moving lower jaw, it even appears to be speaking in some way.
The real de-acoustamatization of Jigsaw comes at the end when he is revealed to be the corpse on the floor and comes dramatically to life. At the denouement, the one who has been dead is alive and every living person we have seen is dead (at least in Jigsaw’s judgment).
The best thing about Archive.org is the quantity streaming Dead and Ween shows.
But the amount of free public domains available for free as pdfs and even Kindle-ready e-books is a close second.
This week's pick is Man into Wolf, which you can get here.
In Ann Arbor a few years ago I stumbled across a work with the rather sensational title Man into Wolf: An Anthropological Interpretation of Sadism, Masochism and Lycanthropy.
The book, consisting of a 30-page essay followed by 249 pages of notes and appendices, was written by Jungian historian of religion and art Robert Eisler after he spent fifteen months imprisoned in Buchenwald and Dachau.
In it, Eisler, whose earlier work was on Jamesian Christianity, argues that a group of wolf-men began imitating wild predators in response to food shortages during the Ice Age. Subsequently they broke off from the pacific vegetarian proto-human family and their archetypal pack mentality, he argues, is present in the psychology of both sexual sadists and violent oppressors like Hitler.
For his evidence Eisler uses everything from the writings of Sade to European folklore to recorded dreams. The book's reception was mixed. One reviewer wrote, "The main value of this publication is in the valuable source material which might be used by future scientists."
Another commented, "In spite of the oddity of the argument, the book is plainly the product of a man of brilliant, if erratic, intelligence and strong character."Eisler’s text is a failure as a work of anthropology or theory of religion, but is a genre-blurring mixture of scholarship, autobiography and memorial to trauma that has a lot to teach us.
Or maybe the menage-a-trois described in this title is a good romance. You decide.
My friend and colleague Jeremy Biles, author of Ecce Monstrum: Georges Bataille and the Sacrifice of Form (you can read free selections from the text and buy it at Amazon) recently wrote this great essay on the esoteric significance of pop provocateur Lady Gaga's style.
Jeremy is a friend and colleague who invited me to give a lecture on religion and horror movies to one of his classes at DePaul.
We all watched Saw, which was fun, and then read an article on the acousmetre and the story of Abraham and Isaac.
This week, I wrote a piece about “dark tourism” at Jonestown, which fits squarely in the 60s pop culture analysis niche I’ve carved out for myself (and by “the 60s,” I mean 1965-1975).
I got my degrees in Psychology and Religious Studies from NC State University in 2001 then got my MA and PhD at University of Chicago Divinity school where I worked with Prof. Wendy Doniger. For the last three or so years, I have been writing a dissertation on the Sanskrit epic hero and Hindu God Parashurama. Since 2001, I've spent about 3 months in India studying Hindi and Sanskrit and generally traveling as much as possible. My main interests are Hinduism, Buddhism, mythology, theories of religion, psychoanalysis, pedagogy, and the history of scholarship. Lately, I've become intensely interested in two things: mimetic theory and the study of Hindu myths and fairly obscure 20th century scholar named Robert Eisler.
This is an article I wrote in the summer of 2008 as a sequel to this unexpectedly controversial article. It never got published, so I thought I'd trot it out here. The music is fantastic.
This essay was adapted from a lecture I gave at Depaul University on May 5, 2010 to Dr. Jeremy Biles’ Religion and Film class.
Most would say that the modern horror film begins with Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho in 1960, which sets up the morality of the slasher film. The startling thing about Psycho is that the main character is murdered in the first act of the film. Why? Because she's a thief. This initial murder becomes boilerplate and is found in movies from Halloween to Jaws.
Adam refuses and demands that he throw the tape.
Or maybe the menage-a-trois described in this title is a good romance. You decide.
