I'm not in the business...I am the business - Rachel Tyrell, Blade Runner (1982)
Being surrounded by positivity is important to me - Miley Cyrus, US Weekly (2008)
'The angel in the wreckage' is a term used by film historian and Video Watchdog magazine editor Tim Lucas to describe the late Italian film director Mario Bava's depiction of 'the ruination of beauty.' The 1964 masterpiece Blood and Black Lace (aka Sei Donne per l'Assassino) contains many stunning and lurid examples of 'Maestro' Bava's expertise in cinematic 'angel wreckage.'
Psycho (1960) cinematographer John L. Russell's utilization of direct overhead lighting to sculpt a hollowed out and cadaverous appearance in the physiognomies of Hitchcock's 'living' characters (most notably John Gavin as Sam Loomis) informs the spectator of Hitchcock's 'celebated' malicious direction downwards and 'deadwards:' toward the taxidermied Mrs. Bates in the clammy and moist cellar.
The earlier sudden appearance of the persistent and invasive dark-spectacled Highway Patrol Officer, played by the appropriately named Mort Mills, quite literally foreshadows Hitchcock's obsession with the trajectory toward that unspeakable lower depth in the hierarchy of the Bates family structure.
Although Janet Leigh is not, as of yet, a cybernetic organism, she most certainly serves as 'decanted' mammalia brassiere stuffing for Norman's celibate gaze; and some forty-eight years later, the brassiere has been officially stuffed with genetically modified saw dust and horded into the neo-liberal free market transhumanist eugenic order's back parlour.
The booming echo of post-human push button mannequins reverberates through an existence where any and all randomness, 'mistake' and chance has been ruptured by a deranged designer arrangement of global Satanic proportions.
Peter Conrad, writing in The Hitchcock Murders, makes reference to Graham Greene's conception in The Ministry of Fear (1943), of a Ministry employing a paranoiac-critical method 'which diffuses reality with a general atmosphere of mistrust and terror, so you can't depend on a soul.' The Ministry, Conrad continues, is all the more dangerous because it is at once everywhere and nowhere - a spectral ectoplasm saturating the world with the systematized and self-replicating viral paranoia of 'dislocated thinking.'
The protagonist in Greene's The Ministry of Fear 'felt directed, controlled, molded, by some agency with a surrealist imagination.' This suspect Ministry with a 'surrealist imagination' becomes even more profoundly invasive and disturbing when compared to Antonin Artaud's 'a la grande nuit on le bluff surrealiste,' where he explains that the nature of existence could only be changed by 'a metamorphosis of the interior conditions of the soul.' In his essay Between the Sign of the Scorpion and the Sign of the Cross: L'Age d'Or (from Dada and Surrealist Film, edited by Rudolf E. Kuenzli), Allen S. Weiss writes:
Artaud didn't believe that a collective social revolution could change the nature of existence, which could only be change by 'a metamorphosis of the interior conditions of the soul.' Thus surrealists were 'revolutionaries who revolutionize nothing' and merely creators of a 'grotesque simulacra.'
September 11, 2001 was a forced seizure of Artaud's notion of the 'theater of cruelty' - a 'grotesque simulacra ' and 'danse macabre' staged by an inverted shadow Ministry...
In The Theater and its Double, Artaud proposes a theater where the audience is subjected to violent, extreme spectacle in order to reclaim the senses from what he calls the 'murder' of cinematic machine reproduction: a duplication of senses that has rendered the faculties 'ineffectual. ' Artaud offers nothing less than total usurpation of the body through a sort of traumatic cruelty. The 'Theater of Cruelty' thus serves to open the spectator's senses in an invocation of the latent atavistic and totemic forces which manifest themselves through the soul.
The Satanic pedigree of meaningless malignancy, 'dislocated thinking' and 'grotesque simulacra' continues unabated in a new infestation spawned from the sociopathic maggot hatchery with post-racial 'jackboot dada' presidential candidate Baraka Obama's recent pronouncement that the so-called 'War on Terror' is real:
I mean, the terrorist threat is real. And precisely because it's real -- and we've got finite resources. We don't have the capacity to just send our troops in anywhere we decide, without good intelligence, without a clear rationale.
The post-racial microcosmic war is over and a fashionable rubber fetishist 'bollock weight' attachment rests comfortably at the bottom of the Bates property swamp: a relic of the destruction wrought by word-image incantations transmitted by the 'dead channel' controllers of an active-denial necropolis.