Nude Nuns With Big Guns

Nude Nuns With Big Gunsⁱ is a very convenient illustration of a very large and utterly taboo problem. Or should we say festering wound of modernity.

It goes like this : the "criminal element" (which is to say, creative people) lacks any interest whatsoever in the normative elucubrations of the state. This would immediately render the state moot, if they actually had something to say. As a general rule, they do not.

Meanwhile the "intellectual element", which is to say cultivated people, do in fact have things to say. They would readily render the state moot as well, if they actually had the means to say it. As a general rule, they do not.ⁱⁱ

On this very precarious crux, of keeping the cultivated mute and the voluble dumb, every modern state rests, and has rested for as long as there was such a thing as state. Thus such atrocities as discussed by Toom and others need not necessarily wonder and amaze you. If you spend any time thinking about it, they should come out as the nude naturality that they actually are. And yes, it is perhaps true that Bitcoin provides the means to finally and perhaps definitively untie this unholy knot and be rid of state as thing of this world and as possibility altogether. But so far, we're not really there yet.

And now with applicaton : Nude Nuns With Big Guns could have been an exceptional surrealist thing, perhaps in the vein of Jarmusch's Dead Man or Daisies. It is not. Guzman had what neither Chytilova nor Jarmusch had, which is the ability, the resources requisite to film reality. Nude if it so happens, bleeding if it so happens, however it may be.

Yes Jarmusch got Depp, which certainly helps in making a movie, so you don't end up with the review reading "with nobody in particular". Yet while that helps, it is not requisite (for instance Visconti managed without), and comes at a fabulous, asphixiating cost : you now must make a movie that will see release. Wide release. And so you... because the state, you see ? You can no longer film reality. You have to film fantasy, as the state wishes it to be. "Word problems are too difficult and frustrate the chitlins" ; you can't have cunt on the TV, that sorta thing.

Yes Chytilova got to do "what she wanted", except not really, and the ridoinculous discussion about how Daisies "glorifies food wastage" should really be all the illustration you could possibly need.

Meanwhile both of these, and many others just like them, had ideas. Had something to say. Guzman does not. He, like any other two bit pornographer, has the nude sluts burning a hole in his screens and dripping stain juice on his couches and everywhere else. Dialogue is an after thought. What plot ? What point ? The man with the burning dough in his pocket does not have the time to find a girl to spend it with so he ends up patronizing "strippers", getting literally the lousiest bang for his buck he could conceivably obtain even if he aimed for lousy ; whereas the guy with a girl in his lap doesn't have the time to find anything worthwhile to do with her, so he ends up married with children. Bravos natiune, halal sa-ti fie! as that ancient expression goes.

It's truly and inexcusably a miserable state of affairs.

1. 2010, by Joseph Guzman, with nobody in particular. [↩]
2. This is, contrary to what you'd like to believe and they'd love to lead you to believe, strictly because of interior limits they have set for themselves. Nobody's "repressing" them, nobody's forcing them. They're abject of their own nature through their own volition ; which they then obscenely deny in an outrageous display of indescriptible internal filth.

   Interior limits they've set for themselves. Partly because cowardice and intellectual preocupations are comorbid universally and throughout in the human species ; partly because it's always easier to live with the dumb than do something useful ; partly because - eh who the fuck cares, even.

   Intellectuals suck, that's all there is to it. [↩]