Family Business

Family Businessⁱ is a very optimistic take on that age old problem of the rotten son (and very strictly a story of men, like all stories ever were, and forever will be). It goes like so : Mac marries some Sicilian woman (did you know Sicilians have nigger blood ?) who gives him a wet noodle for a son. That washcloth in turn marries some brownie masquerading as a jewess and, irony of ironies, sires the very WASP-ish Matthew B out of her wasted, shriveled up flesh.

The son comes to the grandfather with a sweet score, which is aptly chosen to symbolize the American way : some bezzle cocksuckers want the Irish in us to cover up -- not merely for their impotence, but also for the pantently false nature of their loud claims to the contrary. In this sense, the tragic figure of the son truly stands out. He has a choice, don't you know it! He either gives his life away to justify the silly edifice of obnoxious old women through dedicating it to "a master's degree in biochemistry" and its despicable, crawling swampspawn ; or else he gives his life away to still justify, but in the negative this time, the silly edifice of obnoxious old women and Darius fucking Groza, through "that's why we couldn't discover useful genetic engineering, cuz this man stoled it and then ated it!!!". That's what happened dontcha know, if only there weren't men in this world the old women would have long ago flown to the moon powered by naught besides their own putrid mouth-farts!

Anyway, the old man is not smart enough to know it, but instead follows his blood, and so they end up sucking a rat into the set-up : the boy's own father, the old man's own son. Then things go exactly as you'd expect them to : the kiddo fucks up, he gets dropped, the squealler yells copper and rolls up the whole thing. Except, of course, for the part where men will be menⁱⁱ, and money will be moneyⁱⁱⁱ, and the only thing a rat can do is take himself out.

Eventually the old man dies, and the first and last time the two others see each other is at his funeral. Watch this thing fifty times if you have to, but watch it until you fucking get it. There is no fucking future, and no fucking anything for you on that side. If your brain works enough to read these words, your brain works enough to know that much. Nevertheless, the film is optimistic in that it misrepresents the concentration of men in the sample (2/3, really ?) and from there all sorts of things -- for instance they're so overabundant they can afford not to excruciate (and I mean this in the most physical, bloodied sense possible) the brownie. In actual reality, she's dogmeat.

There really isn't anything else to say ; other than perhaps take your "civilisation" and shove it so far up your stupid ass it tickles your stupid mother's cunt in a pleasurable fashion.

1. 1989, by the very competent Sidney Lumet, with Dustin Hoffman, Sean Connery, Matthew Broderick. [↩]
2. And women will be women -- point in case being the shithead shyster who genuinely thinks she's talented for doing what the system fucking expects needs her to do. She thinks this. And she also imagines she should get paid for doing nothing, just like the other whore, just like any other useless pointless whore since the dawn of time. What, she sat, ain't good enough ?! [↩]
3. Haha-hahaha what, you thought the SOPS get a say in re the money flow ?

   Lolz. [↩]