If Mayans could accurately predict the future…We’d probably still have Mayans.

Once more, the world is facing down a date which some amongst our population have decided is to be the day of our destruction. This isn’t a new thing. It’s not so long ago that we were all being told that at midnight of 31st December 1999 all of the world’s computers would have a collective, digital brain-fart and reset their clocks to 1900 rather than 2000 which would result in planes dropping from the sky, nuclear missiles being launched and all of our bank accounts being reset. Spoiler alert – it didn’t.

In fact Wikipedia lists 83 individual, failed apocalypse prophecies and 9 more, including next week, which have yet to happen. Predictably various Christian sects and American evangelical churches are the worst offenders, being responsible for almost two thirds of the tales of impending woe and destruction, but always offering salvation for supplication.

However, some predictors may surprise you; for example, Issac Newton was part of the Y2K brigade. Botticelli claimed that the year 1500 would be our last. John Wesley, founder of the Methodist Church had us penciled in for holy destruction in 1836.

These names though are the respectable side of apocalyptic predictions. There are some more sinister names upon the list. Charles Manson is one that jumps out. In the late 60’s Manson was enjoying a literal orgy or drugs and sex with his followers before he discovered the hidden messages in The BeatlesWhite Album. He called his vision of apocalypse ‘Helter Skelter’, after one of the songs. He saw a race war between black and white Americans destroying the country. But he was going to lead his followers to safety in the ‘bottomless pit’ which he believed was somewhere in Death Valley. As the last years of the 60’s unfolded tensions rose with the assignations of powerful black leaders such as Martin Luther King. Yet he grew inpatient and ordered the Tait – La Bianca murders as a way to kickstart the end. In fact, when the Manson family was arrested it was for stealing dune buggies to search for the pit and the arson of some construction machinery they had found. They would only be linked to the murder when family member Susan ‘Sadie’ Atkins confessed to a cell mate.

The 70’s would give the world the largest mass cult suicide at Jonestown, Guyana which left 914 people dead and would make offers of Kool-Aid slightly sinister – the drink actually laced with poison was ‘Flavor Aid’. Lead by yond and charismatic preacher Jim Jones the cult went through a number of transformations as it moved around northern California but Jones outspoken support of communist regimes in North Korea and the Soviet Union had marked his card. Rumours grew and grew about strange practices with Jones’ church and threats made against people who spoke out or wished to leave. Despite holding some sway in local politics Jones became increasingly paranoid and moved his followers to the Guyanan jungle.

Jones would become convinced of plots to kill him, of secret spies lurking in the jungle and of an impending nuclear war. Back in America the cause of the Jonestown families had been taken up by Congressman Leo Ryan. Ryan organized a trip to Jonestown with concerned relatives. When they arrived things seemed in order but gradually people passed them notes in secret asking for help. The next day some people wanted to leave. Jones, clearly angered let them but refused to allow their children of family to go with them. Eventually Ryan gave in and took the few people to the airstrip. Within 45 minutes he and all the members of Jonestown would be dead. They drank cyanide on his orders; the arrival of Ryan was the last portent of the apocalypse. There is an audio recording of the final hour of Jonestown and images from the helicopter which went to investigate two days later why no-one had come home.

The worst offenders of all though were the Bible Student Movement, a milenialist and restorationist Christian sect which is behind organizations such as Jehovahs Witnesses and the Watchtower. They predicted 9 separate apocalypses between 1874 and 1925.

So, we probably won’t see our poles switch suddenly, super volcanoes burst forth or a massive food inundate the world but what are the more serious potential extinction events on our horizon which we are merrily not thinking about. The obvious ones are over population den climate change, both are undeniable. The old classic, nuclear war, is never far away – August 29th 1997 anyone? Or the biggest elephant in the room, peak oil.

The most serious predictions all put the end far off. In 5 billion years our sun will begin to go into its red giant phase which will destroy this solar system. The Big Rip Theory claims that in 22 billion years the universe’s continual expansion will begin to tear it apart. I don’t even know how to say 10600 years but that is when scientists believe the ‘heat death of the universe’ will occur, total and utter game over.

So what does all of this rambling prove? Nothing more than that there have always been those who call out ‘the end is nigh’ on grey and cold mornings or those so riddled with their own madness and arrogance that they lead the weak willed to their own mini apocalypses but, as with most great threats and evils, it comes not from the supernatural or the cosmos but from us. We are the apocalypse.

Maybe that is why our culture enjoys the macabre spectacle of apocalyptic movies and literature more and more. As our news becomes darker than our films where else is there for the consciousness to go than to imagined doom?

If the Mayans could predict the future to such a degree then why weren’t they prepared for Cortez? Why didn’t they see the plants that would give them antibiotics? Why didn’t they work steel or make black powder? I know the hippies like to think of them as some peaceful, pious to their gods and naively welcoming – you can thank Niel Young and Crazy Horse for that one – but they were aggressive and war like, heart munching, chocolate smoking warriors.

For me all the evidence points in one direction - that the Mayans had a finite counting system or a finite amount of rock to write it on and we are all just distracting ourselves again.

Copyright 2012

History Through Music – Part 2: Christmas Canceled – Macka B, 2000

“It’s Christmas!” Slade’s opening shout will usually start ringing out in the UK’s shops sometime in November, here is the States I’ve heard Jingle Bell Rock about a million times already – though I will never be able to shake the association with John McClane and ‘terrorists with smaller feet than my sister’.

All rambling aside, the factual roots of Christmas have been long lost in most parts of our society, if we ever knew what it was in the first place, but most of all in our mass media. Music litters itself with clichés and movies seldom refer to anything other than 19th century machinations such as Santa, reindeer, pine trees and child abducting snowmen.

To offer some alternative, here are the wikibombed lyrics to British born reggae artist and activist Macka B’s song for a more ‘conscious’ take on it all.

Christmas has been canceled it's been postponed
No longer celebrated inna we home.
Pagan things we try to leave them alone
Incorporated into Christianity by Rome
We're using our brain we're breaking the chain
We're not playing the Christmas game what a shame (2x)

All the drunkenness and the overeating.
Is it the birth of Christ they're celebrating?
Mostly non Christians are partaking
Fi some it's just an excuse fi money making
They say peace and goodwill to all men
So how come they're putting up the prices then?
Targeting the parents through the children
Well them nah ketch I and I again no way me friend

A long time the 25th of December
has been a special date in the pagans calendar
Long, long before the birth of Christ
It was a day for partying and celebrating and to rejoice
From Nimrod to Saturn to Mithra
These Gods were always honoured on that day in December
Worshiping of sun Gods and idols
Why you think Christmas is never mentioned in the Bible

You see the tree and the ivy and the mistletoe
All of these were pagan things a long time ago
People have them in their house and they don't know what they mean
They just come see them so they just join in
Santa Claus what a fraud never once come a me yard
A me parents have to work, work so hard
Christmas put people under pressures
Don't you see that Santa and Satan have got the same letters

Christmas has been canceled it's been postponed
No longer celebrated inna we home.
Pagan things we try to leave them alone
Incorporated into Christianity by Rome
We're using our brain we're breaking the chain
We're not playing the Christmas game what a shame (2x)

History through Music Part 1: We Didn’t Start the Fire – Billy Joel, 1989

It only takes five letters of this song’s title for Google instant to suggest Billy Joel’s 1989 hit single. The song’s lyrics cover forty years of history and reference over 100 significant events and figures..

Billy Joel, a self confessed ‘history nut’, once wanted to become a history teacher and said in an interview at the time of the single’s release that the idea had come to him when talking to a young fan who told him ‘you were born in the fifties, nothing happened in the fifties’.

Joel told author Bill DeMain: “I had turned forty. It was 1989 and I said; "Okay, what's happened in my life?" I wrote down the year 1949. Okay, Harry Truman was president. Popular singer of the day, Doris Day. China went Communist. Another popular singer, Johnnie Ray. Big Broadway show, South Pacific. Journalist, Walter Winchell. Athlete, Joe DiMaggio. Then I went on to 1950.”

Despite the song’s success at the time and longevity to this day, Joel added: “It's one of the worst melodies I've ever written. I kind of like the lyric though”.

Here’s the lyrics all wikibombed up courtesy of ItinerantChild.com:

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray 
South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio 

Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television 
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe 

Rosenbergs, H-Bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom 
Brando, "The King and I", and "The Catcher in the Rye" 

Eisenhower, vaccine, England's got a new queen 
Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye

CHORUS
We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
No we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

Josef Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser and Prokofiev 
Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc 

Roy Cohn, Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dacron
Dien Bien Phu Falls, Rock Around the Clock 

Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn's got a winning team
Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland 

Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Khrushchev
Princess Grace, Peyton Place, Trouble in the Suez 

[Chorus]


Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac
Sputnik, Zhou Enlai, Bridge On The River Kwai 

Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California Baseball
Starkweather homicide, Children of Thalidomide

Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, Space Monkey, Mafia
Hula Hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go

U2, Syngman Rhee, payola and Kennedy
Chubby Checker, Psycho, Belgians in the Congo 

[Chorus]


Hemingway, Eichmann, Stranger in a Strange Land,
Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs and Beijing 

Lawrence of Arabia, British Beatlemania
Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson 

Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British Politician sex
J.F.K. blown away, what else do I have to say

[Chorus]

Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon back again
Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock

Begin, Reagan, Palestine, Terror on the airline
Ayatollah's in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan

Wheel of Fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal suicide
Foreign debts, homeless Vets, AIDS, Crack, Bernie Goetz

Hypodermics on the shores, China's under martial law
Rock and Roller cola wars, I can't take it anymore

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning since the world's been turning.
We didn't start the fire
But when we are gone
It will still burn on, and on, and on, and on...


 

No reason

Half a dozen chairs stand on a dirt track in the desert. A car comes into shot; it drives slowly up the track, knocking the chairs to pieces with the slightest touch. We see it is approaching a small group of people. The car stops and a man in sheriff’s uniform climbs out of the boot holding a glass of water. He gives a speech, the concluding each line with the statement; ‘no reason’. “In The Pianist by Polanski, how come this guy has to hide and live like a bum when he plays the piano so well? No reason.” After several of these he pours his water on the ground and gets back in the car boot.

That is the opening to Rubber, a very odd horror movie about a telekinetic tyre – I know, but bear with me – and another of the unknown gems which would probably never get seen without services like Netflix. Along with Ink and Lunopolis it is something I would never had watched had it not just been there and for having done so, as with all forms of art, life is richer for having done. These are tiny independent films which never really get seen outside of festivals but they certainly deserve to be in an age where ‘inspired by the Hasbro toy’ is becoming an alarming alternative to ‘based on true events’ in opening credits. Battleship – enough said.

Where did these services come from? It seemed like all of a sudden they were everywhere, like FaceBook. At their hearts these virtual video stores are the bastard children of internet piracy. Put simply someone in a suit realized that those adverts weren’t fooling anyone and the only way for the movie industry to survive torrents was to offer a service which is easier than piracy. Itunes took baby steps in that direction but balked at really lowering prices and increasing accessibility. With a subscription setup like Netflix you may as well watch that random movie that piqued your interest, you have nothing to lose. I can’t get my money back because I don’t like something on iTunes, by charging per download and at a price point which is where our high street shops were at anyway before we left them to die. At least then we could lend them to our mates or sell them on without little text boxes popping up asking for passwords.

Regardless, services such as Netfilx, Lovefilm and now Amazon have enjoyed huge success over recent years and the pressure to avoid ‘tape left in car syndrome’ has given filmmakers the exposure they always hoped to find on youtube. There was a time when everyone thought they could put a short film on Youtube and be annoying the world with high-pitched blatherings by the end of the week but it all became so much noise. Why? Because there is no curation. Deep within Youtube there are great documentaries, short films, fascinating stock footage and beautiful works of art and music but I challenge you to find more than one an hour beneath the lolcats, whining teenagers and people falling off things.

It is also the element of surprise and discovery which has been reintroduced to media through these services. We are assured in the role the service plays, that by its own standards and the user’s ‘taste profile’, and we can take riskless chances. The way we as a society have consumed media before the digital revolution was always a pro-active choice within a limited range. The cinema, Blockbusters or Pirate Bay, we always met half way at best. Yes, there have been surprise hits such as Iron Sky but this trade on their kitsch appeal using snappy taglines ahead of deep plot-lines. “In 1945 the Nazi’s went to the moon – in 2010, they’re coming back.” The film was funded on the back of a teaser trailer and that line alone. This isn’t a new thing either Troma made a genre out of it in the 80’s with movies including ‘Surf Nazi’s must Die’ and ‘Killer Condom’, however, their titles were their only strength.

Trailers and movie marketer’s clear contempt for the public intelligence have been undermining the multiplex for years particularly with trailers. Take as an example the current remake of Carrie. The trailer contains, Carrie discovering her powers, being bullied in the shower, being invited to the prom, confronting her mother, killing her mother, the pigs blood, the burning hall, and John Travolta’s (or whoever’s) car crash. That is the whole plot. Why bother going now?

The remake itself, as the majority of Hollywood’s output over the past decade, has become homogenized and committee designed to an aimless gloss. The Stephen King novel is a character piece. It follows the same lines as most of his books – an individual who is different in some way but doesn’t want to be, yet society’s wider fears, prejudices and venom are directed at resulting in some form of cataclysm which is again played out on a personal level.

The original movie is an uncomfortable watch to say the least. Sissy Spacek is perfectly cast. She is awkward both in appearance and character but she is also able to portray Carrie’s sweeter side – the girl who just wants to be normal. Chloe Morretz is a strong actress but she is too attractive and energetic to be believable in her pariah’s role. The inner cruelty of the mother’s preaching is also lost. In De Palma’s film there is a clear overtone that the mother’s central motivation is her fear of abandonment. She claims ‘the devil made your father leave us,’ and ‘God cursed us because I was weak and let him put it in me’. She undermines Carrie much more out of a lack of control within her own world view; that she fears will take her daughter, in whom she sees redemption, away from her.

Spacek – who has a reputation for Daniel Day Lewis style character acting – took the role very seriously. She plays three different women; the timid and terrified girl at the beginning, she is radiant with happiness at the Prom and finally a silent psychic banshee of vengeance and bulging eyes. With each change she moves differently, changes her posture, her way of speaking. It is subtle and brilliant.

Morretz and Moore are very capable actors as we have seen before but here, for whatever reason they fall flat. Sure, Morretz hunches her shoulders and puts on an ugly cardigan but she is clearly still a confident young woman. The way she moves, particularly entering rooms/scenes does not have the timidity or frailty the role demands. In the role of her fanatical mother Moore is left with nowhere to go but histrionics. Every argument and condemnation just gets louder. Piper Laurie in the original adopted a preacher’s tone, she sermonizes to Carrie as if addressing a room making her seem detached and all the more threatening. The scene where she visits another student’s mother seeking converts but is turned away with a dismissive donation is a perfect example of how she turns the mood of a scene.

Then finally there is the double catch within the denouement. The popular boy (Tommy) is taking her to the prom at his popular girlfriend’s (Sue) request. We know another couple, their friends, are planning to humiliate Carrie. At first we assume they are in on it. Especially when the girl goes to watch them at the prom. Yet we see in their reactions that they are not, they actually are trying to give Carrie something nice. The audience knows about the bucket but as the camera lingers on the couple we realize they do not. Carries eyes well up and Tommy smiles gallantly if not a bit patronsingly at her. She is transformed we are witnessing the brightest moment of her life. She knows it is an act of charity but accepts the bittersweet. They are chosen as prom king and queen and Sue wells up too.

If we were to leave the story there, to abandon the bucket, we may have seen a reborn Carrie. A moment of acceptance, a few minutes of fame. Her picture would be in the yearbook and she would have graduated with a new found confidence. She had stood up to her mother that night and would soon be leaving for college. Most likely a good student she would have had opportunities and ‘creepy Carrie’ would be a passing memory.

As Sue wipes away her tears she sees the rope. The camera runs in slow motion as she tracks the pulleys to the bucket. She tries to stop it and is thrown out by a teacher who believes she is here to cause a scene. She will be the only survivor. The bucket falls and everything burns. Ultimately, you are left without a doubt that she was the victim here and in her frightened final moments there is a sense that the audience is as responsible for this as the bullies. ‘Why couldn’t you all have just left her alone?’

In all of the remakes, and in film in general now, there is an obsession with surface. The effects are loud and polished. Furniture lifts and objects rush through the air. Every actor cast is beautiful, rich and usually pushing 30. There is no way that someone at 2013’s Bates High wouldn’t have said ‘that Carrie White is a bit weird but she has a really striking look’. Why not? No reason. It’s the same on TV too; no-one in Dawson’s Creek ever asked, ‘why are there no ethnic minorities in our town at all?’ No reason. We all agree to suspend our logic gland when we buy a cinema ticket. Why is it a galaxy far far away? No reason. However, everything is hyped to the point of saturation and gimmicks bolster takings.

It would be fabulous if the various online services could come together into one giant library like we had in piracy’s heyday but the market will dictate that and most likely many great IP’s will languish under supported and under exposed. Another option would be a curated version of YouTube allowing people to upload serious works and bring some semblance of culture to the noise of web 2.0.

As we increasingly hear about democratisation of media we increasingly see its fallacy. Yes you can get news online from innumerable sources but at least our mass media is governed by some semblance of law which allows us to trust it or at least to make informed decisions based on our view of it. The more people ‘broadcast yourself to the world’ the more we see that in the face of our entire world’s problems a grumpy cat or an adolescent idiot is higher on the agenda. So many images and messages fly past us everyday that there is a risk of the loss of authority and credibility of information, we need some way of wading through the lies and rubbish and thus far we have trusted common sense but the simple fact that more people have watched Gangdam Style than have read Wikileaks illustrates our misplaced confidence.