Aug 1, 2015

They Eat Scum

Maybe because I have not fried my brain on speed or acid, don’t have a fetish for pale chubby chicks with shitty attitudes and equally obnoxious black hair dye jobs, have not been obsessed with punk rock since I was a teenager, like a tad bit of substance and technique from my trash cinema, loathe highly derivative cinematic works that purport to be subversive and iconoclastic, and/or cannot tolerate filmmakers who have yet to learn how to properly use a simple tripod after decades of filmmaking experience, but I have to admit that I have always found the so-called Cinema of Transgression movement to be fairly worthless and irrelevant and I cannot for the life of me understand why it was ever regarded as any sort of cutting edge avant-garde movement. More or less the second wave of New York City filmmakers associated with the similarly overrated but somewhat more idiosyncratic No Wave Cinema scene, the movement emphasized philistinic shock value and pointless sex and violence and lacked the fairly more eclectic approach of their predecessors (for example, the No Wave filmmakers made war films, sword-and-sandal epics, sci-fi flicks, musicals, etc.) and, despite the fact that the group's tiny 438-word official manifesto declares that, “all film schools be blown up and all boring films never be made again,” virtually all of the so-called transgressive filmmakers associated with it subscribed to a sort of unofficial collective conformity involving low-camp ‘lo-fi’ post-Kucharian degeneracy and both literal and figurative juvenile masturbation that involved heroin, shitty third rate punk rock, ugly and out-of-shape girls with guns and physically and mentally weak men that like taking it in the ass, and all-things sexual dysfunction. Over the past decade, I have made various valiant attempts to get through a single film directed by the pretty boy messiah of the movement, Nick Zedd (The Wild World of Lydia Lunch, War Is Menstrual Envy), but I failed every single time as I found each of these works to be so hopelessly banal, intolerably technically inept, absurdly adolescent, and shockingly unoriginal that I just could not bring myself to suffer such superlatively stupid celluloid silliness in it's entirety. Indeed, I could not even bother to finish watching Zedd’s early 11-minute short The Bogus Man (1980) as it only took me a couple minutes to get tired of the plodding punk rock posturing and rather retarded visuals, so naturally I never thought that I could ever endure an entire feature-length film directed by the would-be ‘Prince of Puke’ (indeed, it seems Zedd was striving to be the next John Waters) yet I shocked myself the other day after managing to endure all 73-minutes of his directorial debut They Eat Scum (1979) and somehow I even founds parts of the crud-covered celluloid work to be quite funny and memorable, even if in a magnificently witless quasi-Troma-esque sort of way (in fact, Zedd is so avant-garde and/or desperate for work that he appeared in alpha-smut-speddler Lloyd Kaufman's Terror Firmer (1999)). 

 Somewhat seeming like it was directed by the piss poor Asperger-addled punk anti-lovechild of John Waters, Jack Smith, and Sid Vicious, the dimestore dystopian flick They Eat Scum tells a moronically labyrinthine and superbly spastic tale of hopelessly American apocalyptic cultural autism that features, among other things, albino negroid nerds, tranny poodle-penetrators, self-castrating eunuchs and skanky groupies with sewed up twats, cannibalistic negro-eating punk automatons, third rate fascistic heroin-addicted female punk rock vocalists, and various other forms of patently pointless sub-subhuman trash that only a unrefined nihilist hipster man-child like Mr. Zedd would bother to cinematically dream up.  Indeed, watching a Nick Zedd film is like encountering a schizophrenic hobo masturbating with the aid of his own feces as lubrication while discussing the failed state of the democratic two-party system.  Very much a fetishistic fantasy scenario for the filmmaker, the film was partly inspired by how the mainstream media portrayed the punk subculture as a serious societal threat and depicts the mirthful mayhem that ensues when a female junky punk rock singer from an ostensibly Evangelical Christian family incites her followers to engage in mass cannibalism and cause a nuclear meltdown so that she can takeover NYC and become the first cannibalistic Nazi-punk cunt queen of the super shitty city. While the title may be in reference to a group of thoroughly brainwashed punk automatons that cannibalize normal folk, They Eat Scum certainly can also be seen as reference to the viewer, who is forced-fed incessant primitive images by the sneering alpha-scumbag autistic-garde auteur. After watching the film, I could not help but think that Zedd is the kind of guy who enjoys regularly getting his ass kicked so that he can brag about it to his equally infantile lowlife buddies, but then again one could not expect anything less for a NYC underground untermensch that would be masochistic enough to fuck a swarthy slag like Lydia Lunch. Needless to say, They Eat Scum stars a Lydia look-alike she-Führer who naturally lacks the elegance, charm, and good-breeding of the eponymous blonde beastess of Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS (1975). 

 If you need irrefutable evidence of the fact that the culture-distorters in Tinseltown have been more successful than any other group in human history in terms of demonizing a people when it comes to their unwavering smear campaign against the National Socialists and Germanic people in general, just watch They Eat Scum and see how many times underground mental midget Zedd incorporates the swastika as a conspicuously childish form of shock value that could only be effective on the average American or any other viewer that has had a Hollywood lobotomy.  In fact, when asked in an interview featured in the book Art That Kills: A Panoramic Portrait of Aesthetic Terrorism 1984-2001 (2011) about his fetish for the almighty Hakenkreuz, Zedd proudly confessed, “Yeah, Swastikas are always a good way to get a knee-jerk reaction, to piss people off. A timeless symbol. Anything to shock and offend or confront a complacent audience, and anything to be anti-art.”  Rather unfortunately, Zedd gives the swastika the potency and depth of the McDonald's golden arches logo, which is to some extent fitting as the film is the avant-garde cinema equivalent of fast food, as it is cheap, digests poorly, and is prepackaged with the sort of expertise that one would expect from a ghetto-dwelling petty criminal who will do anything to avoid having to learn a real trade.  Luckily, Zedd’s film also attacks the Jews and their spiritually and culturally cuckolded Zionist Christian allies. Unlike his mostly negrophiliac predecessors in the No Wave movement, Zedd is also no more kosher what it comes to poor colored folk, as he even had the gall to exploit the absolutely accursed genetics of a Woody Allen-esque bug-eyed albino negro who seems to suffer from a terrible case of ADHD. Zedd’s zanier than sick obsessions also include Romero-esque flesh-eating, self-castration, mass infantilism, live punk rock shows at popular clubs like CBGBs and Max's Kansas City, the dysgenic and genetically mutated, retards and freaks, Mr. Rogers, kitschy religious icons, and other things that make the director seem like a quasi-heterosexual John Waters wannabe who whored out his scrawny pimple-ridden ass to the Kuchar brothers. Centering around a suburban motherless family with an evangelical Christian father, loser transvestite son with a precarious poodle fetish and murderously misanthropic identical sisters who both attempt to takeover NYC and turn it into the most genocidal and chaotic place since Haiti, They Eat Scum is ultimately a ‘feel-good’ film for fiercely fucked people who like their lowbrow humor to be completely devoid of morality and good taste, among other things.  In other words, the film is not a bad way to waste 70 minutes or so, especially if you're itching for some punk-tinged toilet humor that somehow paradoxically reminds the viewer that American culture was slightly less shitty a couple decades ago.

For whatever reason that is probably only known to doper Zedd himself, They Eat Scum opens with a sickeningly spastic and exceedingly retarded four-eyed cripple mutant sporting ‘whiteface’ being spoon-fed what looks like liquid diarrhea, which is ultimately what the anti-auteur plans to figuratively do to the viewer with his darkly jovial and aesthetically nihilistic film. Notably, the over-extended introductory sped-feeding scene is juxtaposed with a disturbingly sappy Mr. Rogers song that somewhat fittingly concludes with the line regarding the benefits of being a child as opposed to being an adult, “You can do many things that grownups can’t do anymore. For one thing, you can pretend you’re all grown up.” Of course, Zedd does not even pretend to want to be an adult and the film ultimately seems like an intricately frivolous and ultimately incoherent argument as to why growing up sucks and should be avoided at all costs. After the insanely inane intro, the viewer is transported to Brooklyn, NYC where eccentric fat old Evangelical whackjob Mr. John Wesley Stain and two of his three distinctly mentally disturbed children (the third ‘kid’ is not revealed until much later in the film). Demonstrating that he is a good little Christian cuckservative, patriarch Stain loudly recites to his ugly tranny son Jimmy aka ‘Jim’ and junky punk daughter Suzi Putrid (Zedd's then-girlfriend Donna Death of Rachid Kerdouche’s Final Reward (1978) and Zedd’s Geek Maggot Bingo or The Freak from Suckweasel Mountain (1983)) during a seemingly improvised dinnertime prayer, “Blessed be our neighbors [undecipherable] hapless Jewish immigrants, and mighty lord Abraxas, Menachem Bagel, pray…bless us and...” After the somewhat botched prayer, Daddy Stain informs his daughter that he has set her up with a scientist’s mechanic named Herman Barbell and he wants her to give him an “extra special welcome,” but little bitch Suzi immediately becomes extremely agitated and moans in an insufferable fashion, “Shit, not another nerd, Pap. I’m getting tired of all those nerds you keep sending over.” Jimmy is also not too happy with his papa's sleazy matchmaking scheme as he is jealous of his sister’s regular gentlemen callers and complains in an obnoxiously whiny fashion, “What about me and Polio, Pap? Me and Polio never get any visitors.”  Of course, as a less than charming chap that has less testicular fortitude than his own sister and resembles a tranny serial killer à la Buffalo Bob of The Silence of the Lambs (1991), Jimmy boy does not have much to be happy about. Since he is a sexually confused “blasphemer” and unrepentant zoophile that is literally in love with his pet poodle Polio, Jimmy is simply told by his father after complaining about his lack of male visitors, “My son…I pray for you. A day doesn’t go buy where I don’t pray for you. Someday, the good lord will answer my prayer…I hope.” Luckily, the entire family will soon be put out of its misery as a result of the cunning conspiratorial schemes of the dead matriarch’s particularly perverted and no less demented crypto-cross-dresser brother. 

 When Jimmy makes the foolish mistake of leaving a used condom sitting around the house, his father, who points at his son while curiously wearing the semen-soaked rubber on a couple of his fingers, accuses him of being a “smut-peddler” and harshly punishes him by taking away his beloved pooch Polio and locking him in the bathroom for a week.  Unfortunately for Jimmy, Mr. Stain puts poor Polio in Suzi's sadistic hands.  Meanwhile, Suzi’s gentleman caller Herman shows up and completely disgusts the young lady because he is an autistic albino negro nerd whose eyes are virtually popping out of his head and who attempts to compliment the punk princess' black books by comparing them to a West African black fly, which he gleefully describes as being able to deposit worms under your skin while they suck your blood. In fact, Herman is so autistic and ADHD-addled that he does not even notice when Suzi walks out of the room will he continues to express an almost amorous delight in discussing the pernicious essence of the black fly. Just like his daughter Suzi, Mr. Stain is mentally enslaved to his dead wife’s distinctly debauched brother Mr. Wizard (aka ‘Little Simon’) and even follows his order to put 100% his will in his name. A sicko sadist that killed his sister so that he could steal her prized dark green dress and ultimately assume her identity, Mr. Wizard is in love with a tranny blow-up doll, which he romantically whispers to, “It doesn’t matter that you have a rubber brain. When it comes to lust, they’re all the same.”  As a man on a rather ambitious malefic mission, Mr. Wizard got his niece Suzi addicted to heroin so he could brainwash her into brainwashing the fans of her popular ‘deathrock’ group Suzy Putrid and the Mental Deficients, which also acts as a quasi-mystical cult that inspires its braindead fans to indiscriminately murder people for sport. Indeed, while performing on stage with her punk band at CBGBS, Suzi demands that her mindless fans become abstinent mass murderers, arguing that they should kill everyone, be they, “Black or white…Young or Old…If it moves, kill it.” As for sex, Suzi seems to hate it even more than she loathes dressing like a female, proselytizing to her adorning fans, “Remember, fucking is for animals. There will be no sex. If you can’t control yourselves, cut off your cock…sew up your cunts…or better yet, let me do it, for I am your god.” Naturally, as starstruck automatons that are even dumber and more deleterious than GG Allin’s groupies, Suzi’s fans immediately oblige her and soon begin murdering and cannibalizing random people on the streets of Brooklyn, including negro gangsters, Hasidic Jews, and other forms of rather repellant ethnic rabble that once acted as the inspiration for the anthropomorphic monsters in the horror stories of H.P. Lovecraft. 

 Now in control of her brother’s beloved doggy Polio due to his week-long banishment to the family bathroom, Suzi decides to bring the poor pup to a decrepit doggy whorehouse that gentleman Jim frequents and blackmails the drag queen madam named Mrs. Wanger into giving the dog rabies with the threat that she will tell the dreaded SPCA about her “sordid business.” Naturally, as a successful business owner that charges $100 per her hour for prospective clients to get more than platonic with man's best friend, Mrs. Wanger follows Suzi’s deranged demand. Meanwhile, Father Stain regularly taunts his son Jimmy by standing outside the bathroom door that he is imprisoned inside and incessantly repeating, “You’re an underachiever, Jimmy.” After complimenting her performance backstage at CBGBs by telling her that she has a talent for “asserting a vice-like grip on the crowd” while she shoots junk into her arm right next to him, Mr. Wizard recommends to Suzi that she kill her entire family and she replies, “Mr. Wizard, you have all the answers.” Of course, Suzi gets all the more pumped up for familicide after learning from a terribly pedantic Uncle Tom newscaster on TV while simultaneously reading a “Penis Enlargement Techniques” magazine whilst lying panty-less in bed that her band Suzy Putrid and the Mental Deficients inspired a number of local violent crimes, including acts of vampirism. Indeed, some of Suzi’s fans gorge on some street negroes while a four-eyed white dork intentionally has himself run over by a car while “Good Vibrations” by the Beach Boys is humorously blasted in the background. Like many punks (and probably Nick Zedd), Suzi’s fans are resentful failed members of the bourgeois who have decided to wage war against the society that rejected them, so they like saying silly and unintentionally hilarious things like, “Everyone’s trying to be middleclass, even the Puerto Ricans.” To demonstrate their hatred of their middleclass, Suzi and her gang of punk rock goons kidnap a scantily dressed young girl, tear off all of her clothes, shove a rat down her throat like it is a giant cock, and then dismember her body, especially her tits, with an electric saw and then collectively devour her limbs and organs in a ritual act of Romero-esque punk rock paganism. When Jimmy kicks the bucket after releasing rabid pup Polio in the family home, Father Stain decides enough is enough and is not only provoked to kill the family dog by blowing it away with a shotgun but also his beloved daughter who he hoped that he could one day pimp out to a wealthy gentleman caller. In fact, Mr. Stain is so bloodthirsty that he actually commits the blasphemous act of entering the unholy demonic grounds of Max’s Kansas City and then slits his daughter’s throat in front of all of her adoring fans. Needless to say, Suzi’s fans respond to Mr. Stain’s uniquely unpardonable sin of punk rock deicide by ripping the old man to shreds, or so the viewer assumes (his death is not depicted onscreen, but instead simply reported by the Uncle Tom news anchor, thus hinting that Mr. Zedd probably ran out of special effects money at some point during the film's production). 

 In an assumed mockery of Jesus Christ’s resurrection, Suzi is subsequently featured in a coma at a mental institution after her death via paternal filicide as if she somehow managed to come back to life, though it ultimately proves not to be her but her estranged identical twin sister ‘Poxy’ who fell into a deep eight year sleep after being brutally raped by her unhinged uncle Mr. Wizard. Although initially seeming both saner and tamer than her dead twin upon miraculously awaking from her coma as a result of Mr. Wizard apparently electrocuting her body, Poxy becomes completely bat-shit crazy upon being reunited with her unhinged uncle, who not only raped her as a little girl but also killed her mom by causing her to get impaled by the horns of a bovine named ‘Bessie the Cow’ after pushing her out of a barn window. Confusing Poxy for her sister, Suzi’s fans rescue her from the mental institution and take Mr. Wizard hostage. Almost immediately after being rescued, Poxy becomes a bigger mass-murdering megalomaniac than her dead sister and even proudly declares upon being shown two fans that mutilated their genitals in tribute to her, “These are not fans. These are loyal subjects…slaves who surrendered their entire universe to my authority.” When Mr. Wizard attempts to coerce Poxy into telling her fans to let him go, the deathrock diva vehemently screams in his face while displaying an overwhelming thirst for bloody vengeance, “You, Mr. Wizard, are the lowest form of human life…You spineless, perverted parasite! You killed my mother…you raped me when I was 8…you turned my sister into a heroin addict and my whole family into a row of corpses. You, Mr. Wizard, are an obscenity on the face of this earth. The viciousness of your crimes can only be avenged in one way: On the surface of my super-deluxe-outer-space turntable.” As punishment for his crimes, Mr. Wizard is decapitated after Poxy straps him to a gigantic record player.  As reflected in her decided delusions of grandeur and ludicrously lofty ambitions, not to mention her unquenchable lust for blood and castration, Poxy seems to have ironically inherited the same genetic taint as the uncle that she loves to hate, thus it is only a matter of time before she botches her plans and is murdered in a fashion that is no less disgraceful than that of Mr. Wizard and her many victims.

 After liquidating Mr. Wizard, Poxy murders the Uncle Tom newscaster on live television and then stares into the camera and self-righteously declares to the populous of the city, “My name is Suzy Putrid and you, New York, are the scum of the earth. All you listen to is disco…you deserve to die and before this broadcast ends, you’ll begin to feel effects of a disease for which there is no cure.” Indeed, Poxy has her fans cause a core meltdown at a nuclear power-plant in New Jersey that is only 24-miles north NYC, thus causing 100,000 people to die instantly and many more to succumb to slow and painful deaths as a result of radiation poisoning. After radiating a good portion of the city’s population, Poxy declares herself the ruler and ‘Death Queen’ of the multicultural metropolis, secedes from the union, and fittingly renames the area ‘Necropolis.’  Of course, like most big plans, Poxy's radiation epidemic has some less than ideal unintended consequences that involve the birth of a race of monstrous anthropomorphic mutants who ultimately do not take too kindly to her reign of terror. Flash forward 20 years later and murderous mutant rebels are revolting against the Death Queen and her nihilistic neo-Nazi dictatorship. Ultimately, Poxy dies a dishonorable death via giant mutant cockroach after refusing to listen to her queen-ish queer adviser. As the mutants raid Poxy’s headquarters, “YMCA” by the Village People plays triumphantly in the background (it should be noted that Poxy's adviser describes the classic cocksucker song as “the sound of revolution” and “mutant disco”). Ultimately, the film concludes with a narrator rhetorically asking questions like: “Will the normal cockroach outlive man?” and “Is man a disease?”  In a potential nod to the conclusion of They Eat Scum, Mexican-born Cinema of Transgression figure turned academic Manuel De Landa might have been inspired to direct the short Judgement Day (1983) aka Massive Annihilation of Fetuses, which features a number of real-life cockroaches being tortured to death and was described by the director as, “ tribute to the real master race that will soon inherit the planet [...] Cockroaches have not only invaded the flip side of my house (i.e., the back of my kitchen, the other side of my walls, etc.) but they have also taken over some areas of my unconscious….Since I started the film the structure of my nightmares has changed, almost as if I had violated their laws and they were getting ready for revenge.

 Notably, in his The Cinema of Transgression Manifesto that was printed in a 1985 issue of the fanzine The Underground Film Bulletin under the unsurprisingly moronic pseudonym Orion Jeriko, Nick Zedd wrote regarding his self-stylized celluloid pseudo-religion, “All values must be challenged. Nothing is sacred. Everything must be questioned and reassessed in order to free our minds from the faith of tradition. Intellectual growth demands that risks be taken and changes occur in political, sexual and aesthetic alignments no matter who disapproves. We propose to go beyond all limits set or prescribed by taste, morality or any other traditional value system shackling the minds of men. We pass beyond and go over boundaries of millimeters, screens and projectors to a state of expanded cinema,” yet They Eat Scum, like many films associated with the movement, fails to slaughter a single sacred cinematic cow, lacks any seriously subversive or sensible political messages, is innately derivative (notably, Zedd once even went so far as to steal images from German auteur Ulrike Ottinger's avant-garde epic Freak Orlando (1981) for an ad for his film Whoregasm (1988)), and is almost completely devoid of the sort of graphic sexuality that such similar works are (in)famous for.  Indeed, if you want to see a truly anarchistic and strikingly strange film associated with the Cinema of Transgression movement, checkout Manuel De Landa's distinctly directed and decidedly discombobulating anti-noir micro-epic Raw Nerves: A Lacanian Thriller (1980).  At best, Zedd's film is like the NYC underground equivalent to a Hollywood stoner comedy like Half Baked (1998) and it certainly seems superlatively softcore compared to the doc Hated: GG Allin & the Murder Junkies (1993) directed by Hebraic Hollywood hack Todd Phillips (Starsky & Hutch, The Hangover franchise).  In a world where Hollywood openly backs pedophiles like Roman Polanski and Woody Allen yet blacklists bad goyim like Mel Gibson simply for saying something less than positive about god's chosen tribe or expressing a religious objection to two sexually promiscuous fairies pretending to be husband and wife, They Eat Scum now feels like a playful diversion that was directed by the hipster equivalent of an inebriated fratboy who gets a cheap narcissistic thrill out of lighting his farts on fire while in the company of his frat comrades.  Indeed, mainstream America has become far too debauched, eclectically moral bankrupt, and spiritual retarded for Zedd to be relevant nowadays, not to mention the fact that fellow Baltimore-born filmmaker John Waters did much more subversive things in the same vein many years before with works like Pink Flamingos (1972) and Desperate Living (1977). Luckily for Zedd, Waters is a fan of his debut feature, or as he stated in the documentary Blank City (2010) directed by Celine Danhier, “I like the whole idea of the movie…I mean, THEY EAT SCUM, which is still maybe one of my favorite titles in the history of titles.” 

 In Blank City, Zedd more or less revealed his dubious objective as a filmmaker when he stated regarding They Eat Scum, “The front-page of The Wall Street Journal called it, ‘the vilest and most revolting performance I have ever seen…Please do something to stop it.’ And I was quite elated to get this kind of attention…and this kind of outrage.” As his comment transparently demonstrates, Zedd is not a serious artist by a carny dilettante and punk rock prankster with a cheap Super-8 camera who pointlessly seeks attention for attention’s sake and does not have much more to offer. Indeed, it oftentimes crossed my mind while watching his debut feature that Zedd is internally imprisoned in a perpetual state of adolescence where he is trying in vain to receive the attention—be it positive or negative—that his parents assumedly denied him as a child. Although one of the more humorous running jokes of the film, I could not help but think that when the evangelical Christian father John Wesley Stain says to his son, “You’re an underachiever…Jimmy,” Zedd was depicting his own father and the way he treated him. In a great example of Zedd’s own delusional and megalomaniacal overestimation of his own films, the filmmaker actually had the audacity to argue in the documentary Llik Your Idols (2007) directed by Angélique Bosio as a defense for why no one gives a shit about his work, “The more hidden and marginalized something is, the more subversive and revolutionary…and, in the future, more and more people will become aware of what I’ve done. It’s just that now I’m sort of buried alive.”  Of course, history has proven the opposite, as Zedd has become less and less revered among cinephiles as the decades have passed while fellow subversive avant-garde filmmakers that also utilized cheap Super-8 cameras like Teutonic aberrant-garde blond beast Jörg Buttgereit and especially Nordic Canadian auteur Guy Maddin are becoming more and more popular, even though the former more or less abandoned filmmaking for about two decades.  Notably, in Llik Your Idols, Zedd’s comrade Richard Kern demonstrates that he is more humble and sensible in regard to his place in cinema history when he states, “As a filmmaker with The Cinema of Transgression, it was just an involvement based around getting high and making movies…and having fun. I didn’t think anything would come of it.” Ultimately, They Eat Scum works best as a punk prank at the expense of bratty man-child hipster Zedd and the NYC underground as a whole, as it is a work that strives for artistic greatness but ultimately features the artistic integrity of one of Jack Smith’s cum-covered AIDS-ridden farts.  Still, a constantly comical piece of filmic feces that has the gall to mock a uniquely ugly and rodent-like Israeli terrorist like Menachem Begin by having a half-crazed Christian cuck refer to him as ‘Menachem Bagel’ cannot be all bad.  Indeed, Zedd may subscribe to the politics and aesthetics of punk rock puke, but at least he is not a politically correct pansy or self-loathing negrophile like the majority of people that have ever been historically described as New York City avant-garde filmmakers.  In fact, if I were to credit Zedd with any notable accomplishment, it would be helping to put the final nail in the coffin of NYC avant-garde with his innately derivative celluloid senselessness and absurdly infantile approach to anarchy and nihilism.  Certainly with They Eat Scum, cinematically vomited on every underground NYC auteur that came before him by reducing their motifs and beliefs to unintentional parodies, thus it is a work that should be seen by any serious self-disrespecting cinephile or lapsed hipster hobo.

-Ty E


Tony Brubaker said...

That quote at the beginning of the 9th paragraph shows incredible forsight and intellect because it falls exactly in line with what i`m always saying about Heather O`Rourke and JonBenet Ramsey look-a-likes becoming freely and legally and sexually available on literally every street corner in North America for $50 a time (anal, vaginal, and oral). Its time for the lies an hypocrisy of Hollywood and the media to be completely eradicated so that all the gorgeous little 8 year-old girls can finally and thankfully take their rightful place at the heart of a totally sex-based world.

Tony Brubaker said...

I want to bugger Donna Death (as the bird was at the time this movie was made, not as the dirty old slag is now obviously).

Tony Brubaker said...

Of course when "THE TIME OF SEXUAL REPRESSION" is over the word "rape" will become completely obsolete because there will be no such thing as somebody not wanting to have sex, EVER ! ! !.

Tony Brubaker said...

A massive step forward for society in the 19th century was when they stopped calling witches witches and started calling then scientists, just as it`ll be another massive step forward for society at some point in the 21st century when they stop calling perverts perverts and start calling them completely normal people with completely normal sexual urges, its an exact parralel ! ! !.

Tony Brubaker said...

Nick Zedd may indeed be a truly appalling film-maker and a total piss artist but he still has 100 times more talent than any film-maker that Britain has ever produced, just to put things into the proper perspective again.

Tony Brubaker said...

John Waters is a woofter, the bloody disgusting faggot.

Tony Brubaker said...

For some rea-daughter the other day i was thinking about the films of 1994 (Speed, True Lies, The Mask, Natural Born killers, etc) and then it hit me like a sledge-hammer when i realised that at that time Heather had already been gone for 6 years, there will never be another Heather O`Rourke she was so special and magical and unique and stunning. Oh my sweet darling Heather lost forever now in the mists of time.

Tony Brubaker said...

"The Cinema of Transgression Girl-ifesto" was written in 1985 when Pauline Hickey was 17...COR...WOW...When those truly amazing tits were at the absolute peak of their tit-fuckability...WEY-HEY...! ! !. Having my knob squashed and squeezed between those tits for 3 hours non-stop and then unloading literally half-a-pint of spunk all over them would have been like a living breathing visit to the promised land ! ! !.

O`Rourkey Heather said...

Ty E, over on "Scott is not a professional critic" i cant believe how negative hes being about porn, you wouldn`t have thought he would`ve been someone who would`ve been frightened by the future to such a ludicrous degree ! ! !.