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If Ever I Had a Country: Lxxvi

IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXXVI IF ever I had a Country with or without any " Wood " in the aching aping Film Industry And if ever (you know the refrain by now) I were NOMINATED - not hoodwinked into assuming the role of the Chief FILM CENSOR by every paid-up (most likely not) member of the millions of ciné-clubs, cinémathèques, Actors' Studios, Film-Workers' Unions, Cinema- Makers and Cinema peddlers' and Distributors' sororities and fraternities The first thing you bet I'll do is to issue an Irrefutable Command to burn every spool or reel of film (excepting one of each as evidence in case of litigation) made after the Year Elia Kazan stopped filming " America ! America ! " and " Viva Zapata ! " - not to mention documentaries And then proceed forthwith and/or thenceforth without any hesitation whatsoever to ban all films based on the undeviating formula of extended excruciating display of VIOLENCE for the sake of relishing VIOLENCE in the name of our children watching with us into the late- night on the sofa including the repeated RAPE against the wall on the kitchen-table astride the toilet-seat of poor but heavily-snorting apparently DEFENCELESS but willingly-ripped actresses on scene leading to the apochryphal MURDER of the hero or heroin with electric-saws and choppers à la " Massacre à la Tronçonneuse " butcheries Then shut out of my chaste and highly-principled patrie ALL box-office breaking films especially those crowned with Oscars and Ceasars Grammies and Bears which encourage and advocate the use of pernicious drugs and hard liquor while the cameras O ! so casually ! pick up the eternal " bar " scene of the Western giving us what they really want to : the lewd swaying of nakedly- clad lithesome nubile dames in the distance - the lazy loose car-screen wipers - the " ***** " of nunneries You bet also invite ALL ME-TOO gals and Orphaned-Boy Cubs victims of Paedophilic Preachers and Priests and Professors posing as Critics to rip up cinema seats and leave behind just enough methane gas to blow up theatre halls after being subject against their will to watch copy-cat Hollywood Bollywood Chollywood Nollywood versions of Michael Jackson's beyond-the-grave calesthenics even while being attired in " Prince in New York " Eddy Murphy fineries And this, if ever I were appointed the Chief Film Censor of my highly-principled moral Philistinic Country spurning aping Bolly-Cholly-Nolly antics of Miss Holly in the pantry And even if I never ever had no country worth acting out in the wild woods of the Imaginary © T. Wignesan - Paris, April 10, 2019

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Shattered Sighs