I need to best do this when it’s fresh and in my mind. Otherwise, like dreams that fade in the early moments of regaining consciousness, it would be forever lost in the ether. Being said, I’ve allowed the usual 24-hour absorption factor to set in, and now it’s a little over a day since witnessing Kenneth Anger’s Scorpio Rising. (below)
The film itself was an absolute piece of work: filmed at perhaps avant-garde’s most sexually advanced stage, worked well-over with a finely oiled leather(ette) glove, and glued precariously to a catholic schoolgirl’s pinafore.
This touching film included scenes of ritualistic iconography — embellishing the machismo motorcycle subculture that represented the dark half of the American consciousness during the early 60′s (ref: Hell’s Angels).
This theme, which also included factors of death and self-destruction, was shouldered with pop-songs of the 1950′s (used as audio highlighters for Anger’s focus on contrasting ideas); spliced scenes of exacerbated homosexual romps; and followed endearingly with scenes of neonazi-homoerotic imagery. Brilliant right? Of course! Now. On to why I didn’t enjoy experience:
After a night of studying, and casual thinking, listening to Vivaldi’s 4 Seasons, Winter (the Allegro Non Molto – makes me cry—good for getting in touch with my manly emotions); I wake up early Thursday morning. Take a shower, work out (senselessly backwards I know, don’t ask), make/drink coffee, and then I go to my microbiology lab.
Quiz! Yay.. So my mind is working in one particular direction already, mainly the encoding of proteins and gene recognition. Next, is Visual Arts! And this is when my professor attempts to show the class an ‘underground film’.
A quarter of the students left — but I’m not sure if it was because they were deeply offended, bored, or because they’d “seen this on the internet before”.
Obligated to stay by my default principals of observance and critique, I watched the entire thing…casually drawing pictures of slanted palm trees and flying seagulls.
It wasn’t the fact that I was upset about the imagery so-to-speak, I’ve seen a cornucopia of terrible/confusing/liberating things in my 30 years); it was more or less the TIME OF DAY. — Could have watched Scorpio Rising at 6pm and had a lonie and been like, “HELL YEAH! What what — Bring it on!”
Yet, at the unripe hour of 11:50 a.m. central standard, after a mind-mapped towards the intricacies of everything else but homoerotic and nazi-fetish campaigns (Anger you’ve won this round!), I found that the choice to reveal this imagery at such an early time…and without proper warning = exhausting. Then again, I’m a light weight these days…
I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do now…I guess I’ll watch Lucifer Rising, and draw concept maps of Anger’s intimate connections to Mick Jagger. Regardless, it’s the weekend, and I feel like an old prude.
