Inherit the Spin

"You see, Clarence, there's no Constitutional guarantee of a right to say hurtful things to people and even if there was it would be wrong and we could therefore ignore it. That's the way the founding fathers would have meant it to be if they'd been women and they did things the right way back then anyway. If you disagree, which you have no right to do, then you're a sexist, racist pig and I can say that, even though you may find it hurtful, because I'm right and you're wrong and that's the way it works, in my mind at least"

In a reference few in this historically amnesiacal society will get, William Jennings Bryan patiently explains the importance of speech codes and special hate crime laws to an attentive Clarence Darrow as a heavily medicated and ADD differently-abled Harry Morgan (the Wizard in The Wizard of M*A*S*H) tries to avoid dozing off. [Inherit the Spin (1996)--released during the height of the Cold War-of-the-Sexes, the (in) "Bed" (with the enemy) Scare, "Black" listing (of accused and suspected Euro-centrics), and rampant McDworkyism]

Darrow: So you believe everything written down here in this Andrea Dworkin book is the literal truth?

Bryan: I place my complete trust in the revealed Word of the Goddess as contained in Holy Feminist Scripture

Darrow: ...and when she writes...let me find it here..."all sex is rape," you believe this statement unquestioningly?

Bryan [bemused, eyes twinkling, directing response to crowd]: I am more interested in the rape of truth than in the truth of rape!

[supportive hoots, sniggers, and fuck yehs from courtroom packed with militant feminist onlookers/jury/judges/executioners and one solitary overweight black gay guy who's preoccupied with his knitting and yells out off-handedly now and then and with somewhat alarming force: REBOP! ]

Harry Morgan [startled by ruckus and an especially thunderous REBOP!]: I'm sorry, I'm really stoned and I had the volume turned up way too high on my Ipod. Should we adjourn for lunch or something? I'm totally jonesing for some vegan and a smoothie!

A week ago I wrote about a wonderful book in an Amazon Review (you know, those big musical productions featuring bloodthirsty showgirls exposing just one bare breast, like Janet Jackson meets the Rockettes) describing it as stone dead and completely irrelevant. Huh? The book was Nicolas Slonimsky's Lexicon of Musical Invective--a collection of idiotic reviews from the past that slammed music by greats like Beethoven and Brahms. Slonimsky put the book together in the 1950s, back when senile critics were still getting wedgies over new and innovative music. I declared the book dead because, as amusing as it is, it has absolutely no modern relevant context. Simply, nobody gives a rat's ass about defending new and challenging music any more. Nobody's even writing new and challenging music. As rad as it gets is some feminist composer doing up an Ode to My Vagina and you can bet money that nothing about the music will be controversial. I did hear of another composer--and this is a true story--who composed a string quartet that simulated his personal auditory experiences with tinitus. He'll probably follow it up with a symphonic poem inspired by his erectile dysfunction problem--Ein Hardonleben would be a fine title. Cutting edge stuff, say wot? Well, we've sure come a long way since the Tristan Chord, Twelve Tone music, and The Rite of Spring, haven't we?

The film Inherit the Wind, another great dopey thing, is also long deceased and of no use to nobody no how. The fanatical Christians in the movie, the ones who want to string up the poor high school teacher who dared to teach Darwinism, come across equally well as early prototypes of both the modern Left and Right. In fact the resemblance of the brainless enraged mobs in this movie to crowds of male-bashing, anti-porn feminists from about ten years back is stunning. The Clarence Darrow character (fictionalized as Henry Drummond) argues passionately for something that few today would (honestly*) agree with--the right to think for oneself and be an individual. Today you can't even critique another culture that echos the narrow-minded 1920s yahoos who appear in this film, which is most other cultures, nearly all Third World cultures, and increasingly, our own. Drummond doesn't even have Libertarian appeal in this film, he's an old fashioned Lefty promoting a humanist agenda and not just no restrictions so people can do what the fuck they want and make the big bucks. His plea has a spiritual edge to it that Libertarian arguments have always lacked.

Sadly, the movie is barely comprehensible now (Individualism? Where do I sign up?! What should I wear? What kind of music do individualists listen to anyway?) and within a few decades it'll probably be seen as totally subversive (and be banned) or completely alien (and be ignored).

* Oh, everybody's for freedom as long as it's within tightly narrow and carefully regulated guidelines