Hollywood has for the past couple of decades completely abandoned its alleged original purpose, to serve as a medium for the cinematographic entertainment and satisfaction of its viewers. What was once a diverting and diversive experience of affordable, purely frivolous and genuinely satisfactory and stimulating theatrical engagement has been reduced to a ghastly, incomparably over-priced affair of cheap visually appealing “dead-pixel CGI” light-shows, appeals to cheap psychosexual impulses, mind-wretchingly abjectly miserable toilet humor, bravado-imbibed transparent plotlines and a staggering demonstration of non-virtuosic acting performances.

Going to the cinema is like an excerise in gambling, first you have to read through an entire comprehensive framework of reviews wherein the mediocrity in prose is only paralelled by the worthless of the movie itself. You have to go through that just to envisage a scope of the probable “odds” that the next two hours of your life and the appalling $9.50 you just handed over to that unscrupulous ticket-jockey was actually worth the trouble. But then you eventually ceom to the conclusion that trusting the judgement of braindead movie reviewers is a wholly futile enterprise, that 1 movie in a million that is actually worth all the trouble watching usually attracts negative attention. So the old simulacrum of indigenous American family culture of “a night at the movies” is an irreversibly and inescapable egregious and almost entirely dissatisfying and unpleasant affair.

But it wasn’t enough for the talentless, over-paid, cerebrally-calcified sub-primatic, pompous, egocentric, self-satisfied, smirking, inherently hideous and insolent socialite assholes to constantly barrage us with an unending onslaught of filmographic fecal matter. No, it wasn’t enough for them to simply make an entire mockery of the convention of video-recording, they also came to the conclusion that it was their obligation to inject their excruciatingly-painful, profoundly unsustainable, meteorically unsubstantiated, and yet, with an air of intellectual superiority, vhemently pronounced socio-political and economic beliefs. So now, when people pay for that ridiculously elevated ticket price, just hoping to spend the next couple hours just to have a good time, instead they get a Frankenstein-monster of a horrid, cliche-ridden plot executed by unbelievably stock and uninspired actors, all fashioned within the microcosmic concept of some sort of intentionally hyperbolic, absurdist “profound” political or philosophical message, one that is perpetuated by fruads and charlatans who’s non-capacity in the performing arts is only dwarfed by their intellectual bankruptcy and that any child with half of a semi-evolved cerebral cortex could shred through within the span of 10 seconds. Unfortunately the people who actually do buy into Hollywood politics really are at an intellectual level thats even stupider than that.

This went from an epidemically-viral phenomenon to a mere job description of the Hollywood elite, it is now virtually impossible for one to watch a high-tier and luxuriously-budgeted film orchestrated by the upper-echelon of Hollywood that isn’t a piece of overt propaganda and an exercise in shameless indulgence into the most insane aspects of leftism. I’ve coined the term “V for Vendetta syndrome” to connotate Hollywood’s revolting practice of engament into the political discourse. The name is of course inspired by the catastrophic, post-modernist anti-art of a movie, the 2006 adaptation of the brilliant graphic novel of the same name. This is surely one of the most unobjectionable disgraceful and fallacious incarnations of any printed work onto the big screen in history. It took the original graphic novel (a truly commendable work I urge everyone who hasn’t already to read) strips it of all its poignant and objective political and social commentary, of its metaphysical contemplation of the deeper complexities of the dichotomy of good and evil, and utterly rapes it. The insidious, talentless, plagiarist Wachowski brothers took a whole pool of fully promising and prospective plotline composition and threw it shamelessly defenestrated it, taking a deep, thoughtful and concerted effort of socio-political commentary and transforming it into an ugly, cliched and spiritless anti-neoconservativism freak show. It was such a mortifying act of artistic homicide that Alan Moore, the author of the original novel, refused to have his name attached to the film in any respect, not wanting to be associated with such a mind-blowing abomination of film.

But at the same time, the movie galvanized and stimulated a whole generation of illiterate and disillusioned teenage boys who hadn’t a foggiest idea about the world or the book upon which this movie was based. But they ate it up, they consumed the conspiratorialist lies and defamations of this hideous waste of movie-reel and were transformed into far leftist sycophantic, “post-materialist” conformist slugs. Exactly what Hollywood was intending. This movie has been glorified and exalted by a whole platoon of brain-washed young liberal militia-men, perhaps irreversably. I’ve tried, on numerous occasions, to get some of these people to read the book, telling them that it not possible for them to respect the movie after reading the book, that they would have an intellectual and artisitc epiphany. But they refuse. This is what Hollywood does, it doesn’t create art, it perverts and destroys it, and subverts the minds of its pathetic flock with the callous atrocities and feeble excuses they pose as substitutes for true manifestations of the creative and sentient mind.

November 9th marks the opening day of Lions for Lambs, perhaps the very epitomy of this non-artform, the apex of cinematographic prostitution. A squalid critique of the war on terror, American foreign policy and America and what it represents in general, frontlined by Hollywood’s “axis of evil”, if you will. Directed the treasonous Robert Redford, a long since discredited and hopelessly mediocre actor who, in the nascent aftermath of 9/11, suggested that we shouldn’t retaliate with anger or animus towards are sadistic murderers, that we should respond with shameless masochism and “love”, because ultimately its our fault. People should be hanged for such crimes against reason. Next up on the cast roster is the alien gothic cultist, latent homosexual and phenomenally talentless waste of human flesh, Tom Cruise, who’s subscription to the unprecedented scam-artistry and huxterist charlatanistic death cult of scientology discredits him not only as an actor or purported political scientist, as a sentient human being in general. And finally we have Meryl Streep, an unbelievably overrated decaying old prune who’s feeble mind could never pull off a believable performance, let alone compose an articulated or coherent political statement. This staggeringly shining avatar to Hollywood’s mediocrity has attracted raving press and has already been hailed as one of the best movies of the year, truly a damning harbinger of apocalyptic proportions, especially if the stultified, Hollywood adoring sheep of an American constituency actually tkaes any of its treacherous positions seriously.

But this is where we’re at in American culture, this is how far we’ve denigrated. To the point where a troupe of abysmally intellectually-regressed prats who are so blind, and so tupid that they can’t perceive the ultimate truth of actors: that beyond all the press and the fancy cars and fake, impassioned speeches propagating neo-Marxist lunacy, their entire profession is about pretending. Pretending to have looks, pretending to have class, pretending to have brains.

And yet they’ve managed to successfully engender a framework in which they can inculcate their axiomatically ludicrous strain of non-thought into a mentally-malleable constituency of capriciously-thinking, servile imbeciles with not scathing admonition as blowback, but uproarious applause from their “adoring public”.

This really is a fine tableau of the state of abject groveling and incapacity for independent inquiry that our society has become. That we can be dominated by a group of illiterate gangsters and masqueraders, and pay them handsomely for the satisfaction with our money and our applause. I say we obviate from thsi dangerous trend, that we spit on the faces of these solipsistic cretins and make them aware of a resounding conviction: we have higher standards. We don’t need to be lied to and profiteered by slobbering politicians, and we certainly don’t need to be worshipping false idols in the image of braindead clowns with delusions of grandeur who think they’re something special because they’re on a big screen.

A grand premiere of a a smug, cliched little piece of Hollywood political bullying bile overridden by a glorious cacophany of boos and hisses. Now that would be a movie screening I’d love to attend.