Radical Subjectivity

Okay, I have realized it: I have a “type” of movie that I like. It has nothing to do with comedy or drama or sports or anything of that nature. I like movies (and books, and articles, and stories) about radical subjectivity.
Case and point: three of my favorite movies are: Themroc, Can Dialectics Break Bricks, and Pierrot le Fou. For those who are not familiar with these three films, allow me to explain what I mean.

Themroc is a fascinating little French film in which the only really distinguishable word in the entire film is yelled by the main character at the beginning: “Themroc! Themroc!” The rest of the film's meaning is conveyed in that classic writer's way of “showing” not “telling”—probably one of the reasons I am drawn to it. The story, as such, is about a man who has had enough of not owning the means of his own production, quits his job, and becomes a radical subject. He affects others as they realize their own subjectivity. The film ends on two high notes. The next to last scene, Themroc comes down from the world he has created for himself because he’s hungry, and he comes back with two police officers which he and the family across the way (people his radical subjectivity has affected) roast on spits and eat—a delicious metaphor for “the revolution” if I do say so myself… teehee. Then, the police have had enough. They haven’t been able to get him down, and finally they send up a bricklayer to block off the world of the Radical Subjectivity. Themroc brings the bricklayer into his world (with a couple of the women who have wanted a taste of his radical subjectivity) and the movie ends in a fairly wild orgy. In short… Themroc. Watch it.

Can Dialectics Break Bricks is a bit more radically in your face with the propaganda, but once that’s waded through, you’re left with an absolutely brilliant film. The film itself is a Korean tae-kwon-do film; however, some French guys decided to detourn (http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/detourn.htm) the film and give it a slightly different angle. The humor comes from the classic karate movie aspect in which there is the good dojo (in this case the dialecticians) and the bad dojo (in this case the bureaucrats... “The bureaucrats are coming! The bureaucrats are coming!”) In short, it is a hilarious little movie about how the weaker, poorer, dialecticians overcome the bureaucrats. The real twist is that there is a “radical subject” amongst everybody who sits outside the dialecticians because he understand that the only way to truly get through what they’re trying to work through is by confronting it face to face—he actually has a meeting with the bureaucrats and says, “Let’s talk about it!” whereas the “dialecticians” only want to talk amongst themselves. It is essentially the post-Marxist understanding that it is only through confrontation of the issues in a non-violent way that a start can be made. Violence might have its place, but only as a final resort when the bureaucrats are tired of being made fun of and defeated by the words. Awesome. Awesome. “Dialectician” is one of my all-time favorite characters in film.

Pierrot le Fou is a little bit different, if only because it’s a love story. Now, the question might be asked, “How can a love story about two people be about radical subjectivity?” The answer is, of course, that love is a subjective phenomenon. This subject has been taken up numerous times over the course of this blog and need not be re-hashed here, but, needless to say, understand that love is a very personal, subjective type of situation and you’ll understand fully what I mean. Pierrot is the French “stock-character” of a sad clown whose love is bound to leave him for the happy clown. Pierrot is the name applied to the main character (whose name is Ferdinand) by his love. He hates the name. He leaves his wife and children for his love. They live a completely unconventional life: after stealing a car, Ferdinand is playing with the steering, explaining that they could go anywhere, but never really going that far, and his love says, “Look at him, forced to stay between the lines.” At this point, Ferdinand says, “Really,” and proceeds to jump the curb and drive the car into the ocean. They get out and walk along the beach as if nothing happened. He eventually kills himself, after shooting his love, by painting his face blue and wrapping dynamite around his head.

I was talking to a friend of mine last night, and he told me that he and his wife had planned to move to England in a year and half and volunteer—he spent a year in Wales after university helping disabled people (he has some kind of certificate). Right now, both he and his wife have stable jobs, but neither is really doing what they want to do. They have no kids. They are simply going through the motions, so they decided.

I just found out that my cousin, a former executive in a very small publishing firm, has decided to give up his position in order to go make cheese from the milk of goats... in Poland. I want to simply write that sentence again: I just found out that my cousin, a former executive in a very small publishing firm, has decided to give up his position in order to go make cheese from the milk of goats… in Poland.

I just found out that my best friend, who has been attempting to get a visa to go live with his wife in England—they met in New York City through me: I met her in Australia and went to high school with him—has recently had his visa application approved and will be moving to jolly old England in a couple of months (he had twice attempted to assault the gates of the home of queueing and crumpets but had been unsuccessful).

I, myself, will be heading back to the USA after a year in Korea only to come back to Korea (Busan) while I pay of some debts that accumulated over years of spendthriftiness, after which time I plan to join the Peace Corps and either spend two years in the South Pacific learning how to farm or in South America learning the same, and after that I plan to volunteer to go teach English in Africa—I will be then have been on six of the seven continents… DAMN YOU ANTARCTICA!

The crux of this whole argument, and the thing that most people don’t understand (REALLY understand), is that, while your dreams might not include traveling the globe and doing whatever wherever: you can do anything. YOU CAN DO ANYTHING! Good god almighty how empowering is that?
(One minor note here, if you have children, please think of them first… the next generation needs to be protected.)
But if you have no children, and you’re unhappy, then freakin' Go somewhere else. Do something else. Be someone else. Stop whining. The only one stopping you is you.