exiled

Fandom song animatic tournament: Side A Round 2

The other side - The Greatest Showman Musical

"Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play? 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride It'll take you to the other side"

How bad can I be? - The Lorax (Movie)

"How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be?"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

The other side - The Greatest Showman Musical

Propaganda:

uhhh i never watched the greatest showman but the song goes HARD and its cool as fuck to see how ppl portray these opposing tropes & characters in their animatics

Obnoxious as hell but without it weed be down so many homoerotically charged interactions. The enemies to lovers people would be quaking

it was so popular even i wanted to make an animatic of it 😭 (i never did cause i didn’t even have a stylus at the time but i think that was for the better)

Luz and Hunter. Grian and Mumbo / Etho and Bdubs. Hawks and Dabi. I'm sure I'm forgetting something

oh my god??? the homoerotism of trying to convince ur enemy to join ur side??? whats there not to love?

The only objectively good song in The Greatest Showman deserves some respect, god damn it. Also it's a very catchy way to show a character's betrayal/character changes in general.

The song just overall slaps and also it's great for showing characters having a conflict with one trying to convince the other to join the opposing side

its very character driven, so no wonder its very popular. almost every fandom ive been in has an animatic of this song.

Animatics with the song:

Creepypasta Marble Hornets

Karmaland

BNHA Villain Deku

The Owl House

The Promised Neverland

She-Ra

How bad can I be? - The Lorax (Movie)

Propaganda:

it’s an evil bop

I need everyone to go watch How Bad Can I Be? By Public Spam Account. The best animatic every, plus the song is perfect for any villain character and came from a movie deeply important to tumblr lore

...the only propaganda i have for this is the time two years ago when a zine team gave andrew francis like $50 to sing part of it in the voice of morro ninjago thanks to a joke about onceler morro. someone did animate it if that helps at all

Animatics with the song:

DSMP

Hermitcraft

Darkstalker Animatic

DeadCells The King Animatic

MBIT ENTJ Animatic

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

Building a city: two warring factions

Quick note before we get started: my inbox is open! Feel free to send any TTRPG writing questions you have, either adventure writing, or even character backstory writing! Include as many details as you can. Obviously tumblr asks have a character limit, so feel free to send multiple if you need to.

Now let's get into it! The setting today is going to be a generic mid-size city in a D&D fantasy world like Faerun.

The goal of this reading is to develop two opposing factions, and an NPC leader/figurehead for each. I think this is a cool way to quickly flesh out a city and make it feel alive, and gives the players plenty of RP hooks and decisions for how they want to engage (even beyond siding with one faction against the other).

Faction 1

Archetype: The World — What an interesting card for this! The World represents, well, everything. But it also represents "the right path," or perfection. When I say this, my mind immediately jumped to Library (can you tell I was a book nerd growing up)? Specifically, the uptight over-influential library which rigorously guards its hidden knowledge. Right now, I'm going to leave it at that, rather than deciding any additional details about what kind of library it is, what kind of hidden knowledge, etc. I'm going to let the rest of the cards flesh that out.

Motivation: Three of Cups — This is perfect. Cups represents divine magic, and the three represents a minor force, defender of the commonfolk. So it's a religious library, devoted to helping the poor. Remember, we don't want one faction to be obviously better than the other, because we want the players to have a meaningful choice of which faction to side with (or none). We'll avoid making this faction too "good" then.

Fear: Ten of Wands — The ten of wands traditionally represents being overloaded, carrying a heavy burden alone. Meanwhile, the ten of wands with our D&D specific matrix represents a minor tyrant of arcane nature. The traditional meaning is pretty clear: the library is carrying (or at least, thinks they're carrying) the heavy burden of helping the poor all alone. For the tyrant, let's say that represents the Lord in charge of the town. This Lord has a traditionally arcane background (a wizard turned politician) and maybe has a reputation of being aloof. The library is worried that this Lord doesn't care about the poor, and that the library is the only organization in the city that does. This is a great opportunity to make the library a little less clear-cut "good:" it quickly becomes apparent to the players that actually, there are other organizations helping the poor, but since they aren't religious organizations, the library ignores their contributions.

NPC Lead: Ten of Pentacles — Pentacles is our traditionally nature-y suit. And as above, the ten represents a petty tyrant. That works fine for our purposes. The Head Librarian is also a High Priest(ess) of a traditional nature god. Strict and controlling, the Head Librarian leads the library with an iron first. However... the traditional meaning of the ten of pentacles is wealth, relaxed nature, a happy and peaceful life, etc. So let's add a little twist to our Head Librarian: yes, they may be a tyrant, yes they may be overly controlling and rigid, and but on a more personal level, they're also fun and cheerful. There's a reason so many people follow them.

Overall, I've got a pretty clear picture of faction 1 now. They're a religious library that also does significant charitable outreach, but are incredibly pretentious about it and believe that they're the only ones actually helping the poor because they're the only ones that follow [insert nature god here]. If I ended up needing it, I could also throw in an environmental cause here as well, but I think that's unnecessary for now.

Faction 2

Archetype: Ace of Wands — Well, isn't this interesting. The wands represents an arcane force, which is perfect. Now we have a classic priests vs. wizards conflict on our hands. The part that's interesting is the ace. The ace in our number definitions represents the common people, the innocent. How I'm interpreting this is as an underground backyard magic guild. Essentially, a group of hedgewitches. And, most importantly, these hedgewitches are largely part of the very group that the library is devoted to helping. Very, very interesting.

Motivation: Four of Swords — This is excellent, actually. I'm going to pick and choose which meanings I use here, because the second I saw this card I had a cool idea. I'm going to take the swords to represent martial combat, and the traditional meaning of this card, which is a forced pause. The city, led by the former wizard Lord, has a habit of getting into armed conflict with its neighbors. While not full out war, there is routinely bloodshed and the city maintains a fully armed garrison at all times. The group of hedgewitches, however, is sick and tired of this. Maybe they've seen too many of their friends and family die for nothing, or maybe they oppose the fact that their city is the aggressor in these conflicts. Either way, they want it to stop, and they're willing to go to extreme lengths to do so.

Fear: Four of Wands — Ooh, this is cool. The repeated theme of wands throughout this reading is very interesting. I'm going to take the suit to represent the Lord of the city, the former wizard. I love this, because the hedgewitches have the same fear as the library: the Lord of the city! Albeit in a slightly different way. The four of wands represents holidays, joyful welcoming, safe places, etc. While the four represents an idealist or a dreamer. This one is a little tough: I know the fear relates to the Lord of the city, but being welcome with joy isn't exactly something to be afraid of. Let's make this more literal: there's a major holiday coming up, and the Lord is secretly-not-so-secretly planning a huge attack. The hedgewitches are NOT joyful about that at all.

NPC Lead: The Fool — Incredible. Since the hedgewitches are a more underground organization, their NPC lead is really more of a figurehead. Plans are made collaboratively, in cellars and backrooms with small groups of people, rather than unilaterally from the top. However, there is someone who's defacto in charge: someone on the younger side, with their head in the clouds. Someone who's still idealistic and thinks that they can change the world, who sees opportunities behind every corner. I think this person is in charge because of their ability to inspire others, even though the more senior hedgewitches don't have a lot of respect for this upstart. But being able to unite hedgewitches, obviously a very disparate group, is an impressive skill just by itself.

I love this faction. I was heavily inspired by the hedgewitches in the Magicians books and tv show, by the way. I see them as arcane casters united together under a "magic is for the people" ethos.

The Conflict

Surface Issue: Ten of Swords — Lots of tens today. This card represents a sudden end, or badmouthing people behind their back. Yeah, that works perfectly. The library is badmouthing the hedgewitches because they're arcane casters, rather than religious followers, and the hedgewitches hate the library because they see them as in the pocket of the military industrial complex— I mean, the Lord of the city, and assume the library is badmouthing them because the library supports the military conflicts. So at first glance, the conflict appears to come from members shit-talking members of the opposite faction.

Deeper Issue: King of Wands — This is so, so perfect. Right now, we have two factions. Or do we? The third faction is the Lord of the city, the one who's pushing all these military conflicts. There could be some very interesting reasons why he's doing that, and I could draw a card to flesh that out, but I think that would be a perfect place to tie in a campaign villain. Maybe the Lord is in the pocket of the BBEG and is acquiring resources for them. Anyway, back to the card: King of Wands so clearly represents the Lord. I interpret this as meaning that the Lord themselves is pushing this conflict. Maybe they're aware of the hedgewitches, and are worried about any anti-war propaganda that's spreading, so they manipulated the library into putting a target on the hedgewitches' backs. The more those two factions are fighting between themselves, the less time they'll spend pushing back against the Lord's own ominous agenda.

Roadblock: Six of Wands — Honestly, I could've stopped with the previous card. We've got a great and interesting conflict brewing here, and already I can see many plot hooks and side quests and ways the players could get pulled into the politics of this city. However, I already laid out the cards, so let's finish it off. The six of wands represents victory. I'm going to keep this simple: the Lord recently led the city in a small but significant military victory against a nearby group, and the people are proud of themselves and celebrating. It's hard to push anti-war propaganda when things are actually going well, isn't it? And the Lord can use this new-found popularity to push the two factions harder against each other.

Risk: Queen of Swords — I'm using this part of the reading to outline the consequences of this issue between the two factions not being resolved. But I think we've already got some great ideas from everything above, so I'm going to keep this simple: the Queen in question is the BBEG, or the BBEG's main lieutenant, and if the Lord is able to continue their work unchecked, then the BBEG will absolutely benefit. Maybe the Lord is taking over a mining operation, or has stolen magical artifacts from nearby cities, but the result is the same: the villain is getting stronger every day that this Lord remains unchecked.

Overall, I love what we've created here. Obviously, bits and pieces need to be fleshed out. NPCs need names and maybe stat blocks. I'd nab a city map from somewhere as well and incorporate that into the city. I'd also probably use a tavern/shop generator to quickly add some places to visit, and actually I'd use a simple location spread to add a few points of interest into the city as well. Then you just need a few side quest hooks, and you can let your players loose. I'm definitely picturing this as an open-world city adventure, rather than a linear story, where the players can do a few small quests for each faction and learn more about the issues. Then drop a major conflict event that forces the two factions to act in some way— maybe the Lord mobilizes the military against the hedgewitches, or maybe the Head Librarian is killed (by accident?). I would hold off planning that though until the players had had at least a session or two to explore the city, maybe even more. There's definitely a great opportunity for this major triggering event to come in response to the players fucking up a side quest.

Yugotones: Balkan Communist Pop and New Wave

Part six of seven (probably). Parts one through five can be found by clicking the tag “my mixology career” at the bottom of this post; probably wait until you’ve clicked through to the full post before you do that, though. (Yes, I am explaining Tumblr to people who are not on Tumblr.)

The YouTube playlist for this mix is here. The tracklist is below; my notes on the mix, the background, and the songs are below that.

Bebi Dol, “Rudi”

Xenia, “Troje”

Zabranjeno Pušenje “Zenica blues”

Data, “Neka ti se dese prave stvari”

Dorian Gray, “Za tvoje oči”

Borghesia, “On”

Idoli, “Bambina”

Film, “Boje su u nama”

Bastion, “Hollywood”

Slađana Milošević, “Ja sam neka čudna vrsta”

Bliski Susret, “Kao nekad”

Plavi Orkestar, “Suada”

D’Boys, “Mi smo D’Boys”

Denis i Denis, “Program tvog kompjutera”

Gjurmët, “Të shtrirë mbi kanape”

Zana Nimani, “Što ne znam gde si sad”

Paraf, “Fini dečko”

Crvena Jabuka, “Nek’ te on ljubi”

U Škripcu, “Siđi do reke”

Videosex, “Moja Mama”

Josipa Lisac, “Ja bolujem”

Yugotones: balkan communist pop and new wave

For a long time when I was planning these mixes, I was going to lump all of Eastern Europe together into one Behind The Iron Curtain mix. But the more I listened and read and understood, the less snugly that seemed to fit the facts. Not just because Yugoslavia had broken away from the Soviet-aligned Eastern Bloc in the 1960s, siding with Maoist China in the Sino-Soviet split, but because Yugoslavian media — print, radio, and television — did not wholly abjure the decadent West. State-owned record labels issued foreign and local beat groups in the 60s and prog and hard rock groups in the 70s, with the result that the Balkan punk wave hit roughly contemporaneously with the French, Spanish, Italian, etc. waves. (Meanwhile, in the Soviet sphere, Fifties and Sixties rock signifiers were only just starting to gain official approval, as we will see.)

There was, and is, far more complexity to the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia as it existed between 1945 and 1992 than I can hope to convey here, even if I fully grasped it all, which I don’t remotely. But put simply: ethnic tensions, especially between the richer, more populous, and administratively overrepresented Serbs and minority populations like Croats and Bosnians, were always high. The 1980 death of President-for-Life Josip Broz Tito, who came to power fighting Fascists in the 1940s, accelerated those tensions, and ghouls like Slobodan Milošević would take advantage of the power vacuum to stoke the flames of ethnic resentment: the horrific post-breakup wars of the 1990s, which are all most of us know about the Balkans, were far more the product of sustained propaganda campaigns than of any regional propensity for violence — indeed, propensities for violence are inculcated by means of sustained propaganda. (Which is how toxic masculinity, to choose an example not at all at random, operates.)

But very little of that grimness, tension, or rage is present within this music, which like much of the rest of European pop in the early 80s is both excited and wary about new technology, eagerly devouring the new and rummaging through the old to see what can be relevantly cannibalized, and giddy with its own creative strength. Although Eastern European and Balkan rock has since the 80s gained a certain reputation for seriousness, not to say dourness, that’s only partly true here — mostly, granted, because my own predilections privilege the froth and giddiness of pop rather than the grim chug of rock, but also because Yugoslav society (to the extent it was a unified society) was much freer and more open in the 80s than it had been for decades. The death of Tito functioned much like the death of Franco had in Spain: the old truths (and especially the old censorships) no longer held, and all kinds of material rose to fill a marketplace which had weathered thirty years of the Cold War better than any other in Eastern Europe.

In fact, you have to go to MTV in the Us or Top of the Pops in the UK to find as much solid pop-video work as there is in this mix: most of the biggest songs had several different videos, because there were a lot of competing pop shows on Yugoslav television and sometimes they each commissioned their own video.

There is still plenty of Communism represented in the mix, though: notably the predominance of the state record label, Jugoton, as the issuer of most of the music below. Variants mostly reflect the city of origin, to which point: Yugoslavia was a federation of six socialist republics: Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia, Slovenia, Macedonia, and Montenegro, as well as two autonomous communities within Serbia, Kosovo and Vojvodina. Linguistically diverse (Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, and Montenegrin are all to some degree mutually intelligible, but Slovene, Macedonian, and Kosovar Albanian are not), ethnically and religiously heterogeneous, and with a long history of nominal administrative unity but distinct local practices, Yugoslavia represents the point in these mixes where my slender grasp on the languages in question fails entirely.

There are seven Serbian, seven Croatian, three Bosnian, two Slovene, one Macedonian and one Kosovar songs, not that I could distinguish any of them except diacritically. Albania, the Balkan socialist republic bounded by Yugoslavia and the Mediterranean, is not represented at all except linguistically (Kosovo is largely ethnic Albanian); state repression of non-folk popular music was enforced in Tirana until the 1990s.

I think that’s all the hedging I wanted to do. Although this project has been called a “deep dive,” I think of it much more as a surface skim. Anyone with the patience to click around on YouTube, fact-check against Discogs, and use Chrome’s translation tools could do the same. You can too. If you like anything you hear, you should.

1. Bebi Dol Rudi PGP RTB | Belgrade, 1983

We open with perhaps the most perfect pop song produced in Eastern Europe all decade: a valentine to Rudolph Valentino, sung by Serbian pop starlet Dragana Šarić. Her stage name is such deliberately infantilizing phonetic English that the breadth of her music, far from being lolita-esque dance-pop, can take the unwary by surprise. Her work was influenced by jazz, Arabic pop, and traditional Slavic folk as well as international pop: and despite its puppy-love lyrics, “Rudi” is structurally surprising, as she takes a basic pop song and unfolds unexpected harmonic filigree in post-chorus vocal flights. The voluptuous sweep of the melody fits in well with the plush erotic fantasies enacted on screen by Valentino: one video clip has Šarić intercut with scenes The Sheik, which helps elucidate the colonialist trappings of Western commodified (heterosexual) desire.

2. Xenia Troje Jugoton | Zagreb, 1984

What I always think of as the Blondie model of pop — a sharp pop-rock band fronted by a cool, attractive woman — was extremely popular in the early 1980s, and in Yugoslavia every major ethnicity had their own. Xenia was the Croatian version: singer Vesna Vrandečić was the singer, although on this single (“Three”) she cedes the chorus to the band’s guitarist and songwriter Robert Funčić’s laid-back almost-rap. Since it’s a song about the drama of men fighting over a woman, and the chorus is first-person from one of the men, it makes a kind of sense: but overshadowing both singers is the tense, blustery edge of the music, all paranoia and bluster, replicating the physical sensation of being in the room for such a fight.

3. Zabranjeno Pušenje Zenica blues Jugoton | Sarajevo, 1984

Although one of the smaller and poorer republics in the Yugoslav federation, Bosnia was one of the few to engender an honest-to-goodness local cultural movement (as opposed to merely imitations of Western models) in the 1980s. The “Novi primitivizam” (New Primitivism) that swept Sarajevo between 1981 and 1987 was a jocular proletarian reaction to the self-serious New Romanticism of British import (and Croatian popularization, as we will see) and Slovenian Neue Slowenische Kunst (we’ll see a bit of that too). Zabranjeno Pušenje were perhaps the foremost Novi primitivizam band: a folk-punk outfit like the Fugs or the Mekons, their music was characterized by local slang (often borrowed Turkicisms), simple melodies, and rudimentary instrumentation. Their low-key anthem “Zenica blues” (sometimes “bluz”) is a Johnny Cash-like tale of petty criminality, prison sentences, and the gloomy garrison at Zenica.

4. Data Neka ti se dese prave stvari Jugoton | Belgrade, 1984

YouTube comments are full of how this is a copy of Depeche Mode’s “See You,” but a synthesizer doing the wedding-bells riff from the end of “Then He Kissed Me” isn’t exactly an original thought. Regardless, it’s a beautiful synthpop gem from associates of Serbian synth-funk collective the Master Scratch Band. The three members of Data, who also played behind the Scratch Band’s girl group Šizike, only produced a single 45 under that name, but have been endlessly compiled and reissued on the strength of it.

5. Dorian Gray Za tvoje oči Jugoton | Zagreb, 1985

The Croatian adoption of the British New Romantic ethos found its greatest exponents in a band named after an Oscar Wilde character, whose first single, “Sjaj u tami,” was a Scott Walker cover, and whose singer, Massimo Savić, ran the gamut of glam-rock masculinity from David Bowie fey to Bryan Ferry louche. “Za tvoje oči” (For Your Eyes) was the title song from their second LP, a crooning, brooding masterpiece but commercially disappointing; the following year, Savić went solo, and has become an elder statesman of glamorous, elegant Croatian pop.

6. Borghesia On FV Založba | Ljubljana, 1985

The most famous musical wing of the Neue Slowenische Kunst (New Slovenian Art; the German title is intentional) was the long-serving industrial band Laibach — since they primarily sing in English, they don’t  appear here. But fellow-travelers Borghesia, also industrial, electronic, and dark, primarily sang in Slovene. “On” (He) is a full-on Electronic Body Music song, as developed by Belgian group Front 242: arpeggiators and screams soundtrack lyrics to a descent into fetishism which even in choppy Google Translate makes Venus in Furs read like Mother Goose. The video needs no translation: it’s not remotely safe for work.

7. Idoli Bambina Jugoton | Belgrade, 1983

More or less the founders and guiding spirit of the Serbian new wave, Idoli (Italian for idols) came to prominence in 1980 with songs like the post-punk “Retko te viđam sa devojkama” (I Rarely See You with Girls), about closeted homosexuality, and the Cossack-ska “Maljčiki” (Boys), mocking Soviet socialist-realist aesthetics. By 1983 they had produced several of the landmark albums of the era and had little left to prove; their final album Čokolada (Chocolate) was a huge-selling last hurrah, full of pop hooks and complicated sentiment. “Bambina” sounds like a love song, but the lyrics are actually full of suspicion and resentment.

8. Film Boje su u nama Jugoton | Zagreb, 1983

The Croatian standard-bearers of new wave — so much Idoli’s counterparts that they co-headlined a joint tour in 1981 — by 1983 Film were closer to the shiny guitar-pop of classic rock than to the twistier, more acerbic edge of new wave. Their 1983 album Sva čuda svijeta (All the Wonders of the World) leaned into the Hollywood signifiers suggested by their name: album opener “Boje su u nama” (We Are Made of Stars) includes Dirty Harry, Kubrick, and MGM references before the song even kicks in. When it does, it’s a blissed-out relative of “Start Me Up,” as hippy-glam as Marc Bolan at his best.

9. Bastion Hollywood PGP RTB | Skopje, 1984

The sole representative of Macedonia in this mix, Bastion was a four-person operation: one on synths, one on bass, one on vocals, and one on songwriting and visual art. The result of that skeletal operation was a surprisingly dubby approach to synthpop, as singer Ana Kostovska’s Lwin-y vocals wander around an endless funk-bass echo chamber punctuated by all kinds of sounds. The lyrics are the usual trenchant commentary on the dream factory that you would expect from the title, but the bass is the reason to listen.

10. Slađana Milošević Ja sam neka čudna vrsta Jugoton | Belgrade, 1983

My choice of this song to represent Slađana Milošević (her first name can also be written Sladjana) is perhaps eccentric, but it fit too well in the mix to not. Something between the Grace Jones and the Nina Hagen of Serbian new wave, she had weathered controversy in the late 70s for her Patti Smith-inspired rock, and was such an international pop star that her 1983 record Neutral Design was recorded in Munich with German musicians. It’s a hell of a record: every song made it onto Yugoslav television, often in multiple videos, and they’re all good. This, the closer (“I’m an Odd Sort”), is unexpectedly light and breezy: a witchy, jazzy calypso in which she mostly sticks to a high, soft register to sing about forbidden knowledge and how poor an adept the song’s “you” is.

11. Bliski Susret Kao nekad Jugoton | Zagreb, 1984

It wouldn’t be an entry in this mix series if I didn’t include at least one single that has never been reissued and is only available on YouTube. The Croatian act called Bliski Susret (Close Encounter) only issued a single song (the B-side is the same song in English), this beautiful slice of studio-based nostalgia, all production and sentiment. It was a one-man show: Željko Bošković, whose real career has been as a studio owner and producer in Zagreb, producing some of the best Croatian pop of the last thirty years. “Kao nekad” (Like Before), which sums up romantic pop from Spector to Gainsbourg,  remains a swoon-worthy calling card.

12. Plavi Orkestar Suada Jugoton | Sarajevo, 1985

Bosnian pop in the 80s was not at all just the New Primitivism, although no doubt its emphasis on stripped-down structures and folkloric origins had some influence on Plavi Orkestar, who sound exactly like what a Western conception of “Balkan pop-punk” might be. Anatolian rock riffs, all-comrades-together shouted choruses, and lovelorn lyrics about a faithless woman — and in the middle eight, about forgetting the faithless woman by going out on the town with your boys — made “Suada” a huge hit, the first of Plavi Orkestar’s long and enviable career.

13. D’Boys Mi smo D’Boys Jugoton | Belgrade, 1983

There are more differences than similarities, but the act that kept coming to mind as I dug into the D’Boys discography was Wham! Like George and Andrew, they were dismissed as lightweight pop fluff compared to the Real Rockers surrounding them; like George, Peđa D'Boy (Predrag Jovanović) assimilated a host of influences and went largely unrecognized as an innovator who predicted much of the trashier end of the European 90s. Which doesn’t mean that the Laughing Gnome effect which opens this drum-machine-and-guitar-bash anthem isn’t a throwback; but it’s also a sound I’ve heard a lot more often in global pop in the 2010s. “Mi smo D’Boys” means “We Are D’Boys,” and Peđa’s party (in both senses) sloganeering over its dumb-brick simplicity makes me think of such ironists as Morrissey, Neil Tennant, and Jarvis Cocker — another D’Boys track, “Sexy Sexy,” sounds unaccountably like “Common People.”

14. Denis i Denis Program tvog kompjutera Jugoton | Rijeka, 1984

Comparing Croatian synthpop duo Denis i Denis to British acts like Eurythmics or Yazoo is probably less illuminating than otherwise; but the general set-up is equivalent. Davor Tolja was the synthesizer maven, Marina Perazić the voice and sex symbol: her gasps and strangled sobs during recording were as important to the band’s electronic-erotic aesthetic as her low, singing voice. This single (Your Computer Program) was their biggest hit, but they were so consistent between 1983 and 1988 that just about any record could have gone in.

15. Gjurmët Të shtrirë mbi kanape RTP | Pristina, 1985

The sole representative of Kosovo on this mix, Gjurmët were very nearly the first rock act to sing in Albanian ever, and probably the first recorded. Their only release during their years of activity in the 1980s was a cassette delayed by the censors for over a year due to perceived Albanian nationalism, but later reissues, as both Albanian and Kosovar culture has become more open, have kept their memory faintly alive. “Të shtrirë mbi kanape” (Sprawled on the Couch) is their best uptempo song, urgent and moody, with superb new-wave guitar heroics from Bekim Dyla.

16. Zana Nimani Što ne znam gde si sad Jugoton | Belgrade, 1986

If Xenia was the Croatian Blondie, the Serbian edition was Zana, with a series of sparkling power-pop hits over the early 80s. But when singer Zana Nimani, for whom the band was named, left in 1985, the band carried on with a succession of new singers and little diminution in popularity. Nimani’s only solo album, 1986’s Noćas pevam samo tebi (Tonight I Sing Only for You) was recorded in Sweden, and this minor hit (I Don’t Know Where You Are Now) sounds like it: shiny and heartfelt, only her melodramatic voice gives her away as Balkan.

17. Paraf Fini dečko ZKP RTVL | Zagreb, 1981

In these mixes I’ve had little patience for straight-up punk or its immediate descendents, but Paraf are unique and strong enough to be an exception. They began as a shouty punk band, and were important enough to make the 1979 compilation documenting Zagreb’s punk scene; but after their first album in 1980 singer Valter Kocijančić quit, and female singer Vim Cola (Pavica Mijatović), and keyboardist Raul Varlen joined. They moved towards anthemic post-punk, as documented by this first single in the new line-up. “Fini dečko” means “FIne Boyfriend,” and the lyrics document how weirded out Cola is by a good, clean, upright boy. They would go on to make some of the most politically righteous music of the Croatian new wave, but this single, with one foot still in punk, is their most fun.

18. Crvena Jabuka Nek’ te on ljubi Jugoton | Sarajevo, 1986

Don’t be fooled by the huge glossy opening chords: Crvena Jabuka (Red Apple) aren’t a Sarajevan Van Halen (not that that would be a bad thing). They’re closer to a Bosnian Enuff Z’Nuff: a shiny hard-rock body over a winsome 60s-pop chassis. Named after the Beatles label, their self-titled debut album in 1986 was an immediate hit: but several months later the lead singer and the bass player were killed in a car accident. The remaining members forged on, and achieved even greater success, becoming one of the key figures of late 80s and early 90s Yugoslav rock; they still record today. “Nek’ te on ljubi (Kad ne mogu ja)” (Let Him Love You [If I Cannot]) is a power-pop gem that had unexpected resonance after frontman Dražen Ričl was replaced, and surpassed, by keyboard player Dražen Žeri.

19. U Škripcu Siđi do reke Jugoton | Belgrade, 1983

This shouldn’t be your only exposure to Balkan pop: there’s so much I haven’t included, from synthpop pioneers Boa and cross-dressing glam-funk star Oliver Mandić to stuff I don’t even know about. But after hearing it, I had to include “Siđi do reke” (Come Down to the River) by post-punk band turned New Romantics U škripcu (In a Heartbeat) no matter who I bumped. A hovering, almost ambient piece, equal parts “In Every Dream Home a Heartache” and traditional Serbian folk song, it’s one of the magnificent centerpieces of 80s Yugoslav pop.

20. Videosex Moja Mama ZKP RTVL | Ljubljana, 1983

The Slovene equivalent to the Croatian Xenia and the Serbian Zana was Videosex, who were probably the best of them all: singer Anja Rupel had more personality and the band was more versatile, jumping from straight-up synthpop like “Moja Mama” (My Mama, a mocking pout about stepmothers) to the noirish “Detektivska priča” (Detective Story) and even reaching back to 1940s swing for “Tko je zgazio gospođu mjesec” (Who Was the Lady of the Month). Rupel would go on to sing with Laibach; but this early giddy work remains unspeakably delightful.

21. Josipa Lisac Ja bolujem Jugoton | Zagreb, 1987

Comparisons to Kate Bush would be arrant nonsense: Croatian singer Josipa Lisac had been a distinguished art-rock singer for a decade before “Wuthering Heights,” both with beat group Zlatni Akordi and on her own. But in the neon 80s her eccentric sense of style was given room to flourish, and she made a series of crucial recordings halfway between pop, electronic rock, and local art-song traditions. When she presented “Ja bolujem” (I’m Suffering) at the 1987 MESAM festival in a dress that moved on its own as dancers below it ran through an intricate choreography, it was a magnificent capstone on the first half of her career. She’s since gone on to a more sedate Céline-like goddesshood, but her voice is still one of the most powerful instruments in the Balkans.

Next: “Eastern Europe” is a vast territory to cover. Whatever I do, I will not do it justice. My only comfort is that I haven’t done justice to anywhere else either.

On Things that Never Change

Over ten million soviet soldiers died in the second world war. An unprecedented tragedy not because of the number itself, but because of how big a waste of human life this was. Soviet approach to war was simple. Machinery was precious because there was never enough of it and it was difficult to obtain. Intelligent people were rarely in position of power in Soviet Union, and so good military strategy was rare as well. Without machinery and without good strategy, what else did the Soviets have? The answer is people. Soviet leadership understood this, and so they did not care for human lives. They sent whole armies to death traps for no good reason. They believed that the human flood will overcome the technically and strategically better opponents.

Is this a unique strategy for Soviet period of the time? No, and there is one interesting example which you may not expect. Ancient Romans are known for their advanced technical and strategic superiority. That is how they conquered many surrounding areas. They were also good at incorporating the conquered people into its own ranks. Instead of killing them or forcing them outside of the newly established boundaries, Romans made them allies. This meant that at its own time, Rome had a massive army of men at its disposal. When it came to the worst, Roman commanders did not hesitate to use the strategy later perfected by Soviets. They sent legion after legion to almost certain death, as life of most men had no value. When the Nazi army approached Moscow, the Soviets were not original in their solution. In fact, they utilized the same strategy which the Romans used when Hannibal roamed through the northern Italy. Ultimately, the strategy of human sacrifice worked. Both two centuries before Christ and twenty centuries after.

~~~

"If Americans want to live the American dream, they should go to Denmark" said Richard G. Wilkinson at a 2011 TED conference on economic inequality. He had a good reason. The land of the infinite opportunities only offers them to those who don't need them. Those raised in a low income family have a 43% probability of staying in the same socioeconomic group their whole life. Even in fast growing China the social mobility is poor. Children of families with the least income have 37% likelihood of not being any richer than their parents. Adversely, growing up among the richest secures high probability of staying so as an adult: 49% in China and incredible 70% in the USA.

When the least wealthy have only little chance of change during their lifetimes, they aren't as free as others to make decisions. Even if they know that their work will not allow them to advance, they can't afford to lose it. They are chained to their jobs and fully dependent on their employers.

This is surprisingly reminiscent to Roman concept of slavery. Unlike some recent examples of slavery, the Roman kind was not racially motivated. In fact anyone could be a slave. A Roman could become one by not being able to repay his or her debts, although this rarely happened to those from the top tier of the society. Once enslaved, Romans had small chance of becoming freedmen. The statistics are not known, but it does not seem to be very likely. For sure it was less probable than the chance of current poor Americans or Chinese becoming rich. Even so Roman slaves had their American dream. Similarly to Americans many centuries later, it was most likely never going to come true.

~~~

Convenience of living in modern cities is unquestionable. It is one of the defining characteristics that distinguish cities from the countryside. Cities are denser and everything is within ones reach. But city inhabitants pay for this convenience. I don't mean that they pay by having less space for themselves, less greenery, more noise or worse air quality. I mean that they pay literary by ever increasing amount of money.

With ever increasing cluster of building regulations, the cost of living in every growing city skyrockets.  People from city center start moving uptown, where only newcomers used to live. Later, moving uptown is often not a solution and it is becoming more common to rent instead of buying. People rent their homes not as a temporary, but as a long-term solution. They pay rent, which means and can't save enough money to buy their own place. They get trapped in a circle.

This it turns out is not a modern problem, but more likely a problem of large cities generally. Our good old friends Romans faced the very same issue. The city at the center of their empire was a home to one million people, an unprecedented number at the time. Majority of Romans lived in rented apartments and only the richest could afford to own a place of their own. 10 floors high concrete buildings with dozens of apartments would feel familiar to inhabitants of modern cities. Romans would in return understand how it feels to have only a small chance to own the place they live in. The best they could hope for was a move to the luxury apartments on lower floors, which often had running water. With the current trend of ever more expensive living in cities, our living conditions are becoming more and more like those of Romans.

~~~

Western societies project so much of themselves in ancient Romans. One of the reasons for this obsession is because they believe ancient Rome was one of the pinnacles of democracy, where wise senators in white togas rose to power through general and fair elections. This unfortunately was not the case as Roman elections were far from free and fair in the current understanding of the words. More importantly, for a large part of its history, Rome was not a democracy at all. Most of the famous Roman leaders, be it Augustus, Nero, Marcus Aurelius, Diocletian or Constantine were in fact dictators.

Ancient Rome was a dictatorship for second half of its existence, but the ethos of democracy never vanished. It was so strong that it influenced the way the rulers presented themselves even hundreds of years after the actual end of democracy. Calling oneself a dictator was a political (and often almost literal) suicide even centuries after the democracy ended. Augustus, the first proper emperor of Rome, could not just cancel all the various independent functions which existed in government. He had to cleverly amass them all, one by one. By doing so, he indicated that there are independent institutions, albeit for the moment concentrated in one person. Despite having a ruler with unlimited power, Romans could still see themselves as democrats. It was always imaginable that the individual powers of the emperor will eventually split between democratically elected people. And so the ethos of democracy continued even though the actual democracy was long dead.

One does not need to search too long to find similar examples in the world today. Many years ago it became indisputable that democracy is the right path towards rich society. Since then, many countries at the edges of the western world imitate its various aspects. In Soviet Union and its satellites, elections were held every four years. The results were hardly surprising as stable 100% votes went to the Communist party. After Russia annexed the Crimean peninsula in 2014, a supposedly free referendum took place. 97% of the voters were in support of Crimea joining the Russian Federation. Less blatant but still unfair are the elections in Turkey, Hungary, Belarus and many other countries today. Through intimidation, propaganda and fraud, undemocratic regimes keep trying to imitate democratic principles. Even for them it is clear that democracy is in fact the best system for the people. For dictators it is as hard as it was two millennia ago to admit who they really are: usurpers of the power with no real support from the people whom they govern.

~~~

Ancient Romans had many fascinating values, but the most interesting among them must be dignitas. Dignitas was a meta-value which represented how much the public thought the dignitas holder was adherent to other Roman values. By being more adherent to Roman values, a Roman could increase his dignitas. Reversely, being less roman meant losing dignitas. And so the race began. Commanders lead their armies to unnecessary wars to gain recognition as heroes. The chase for dignitias forced men to do irrational things. One only has to ask whether this arbitrary value did contribute to their well being at all. As with other arbitrary goals people chose, I would not say so.

Irrational behavior of the past generations you say? And how many followers on Instagram do you have, how many likes did you get for your latest post on Facebook? How much time did you spend taking that one perfect selfie on the beach, instead of enjoying the beach? How about the food you ate cold because you spend so much time trying to capture it from the best angle? People have the need to impress others and it doesn't matter whether it will bring them any real benefits. The need to look better then our peers is imprinted in our DNA and we can't do much about it. The only thing that changes are the circumstances and hence the methods we use. The need to fulfill our biological destiny remains the same, no matter whether you're a millitary leader in 53 BC or a bored teenager twenty one centuries later.

~~~

So, let's say you want to make a grand statement about the history and show how some things stay the same. What do you do? Do you study the topic, do you trace it through the history as far as written records go and then make an informed assessment? I bet you don't. I bet you take some feature of the present, pick a historical period in which the feature was in some way similar, and present this as a clear proof that some things never change. Isn't that lame?

Inspired by: Gregory S. Aldrete: The Rise of Rome Gregory S. Aldrete: The Roman Empire: From Augustus to the Fall of Rome Timothy Snyder: Black Earth: The Holocaust as History and Warning The PEW Charitable Trust: Pursuing the American Dream: Economic Mobility Across Generations Dan Kopf: For all its economic dynamism, China’s income mobility is bad and getting worse Richard Wilkinson: How economic inequality harms societies

Rhetoric of Space (November 18th, 2018)

This week we will be analyzing specific places or spaces in a movie that may have a deeper meaning; such as making arguments on society, culture, time period, tone or mood of the film, and maybe about modern time. An example of this could be the Capital in the Hunger Games which represents dictatorship. There is political and economic commandment over Panem, and its rules are enforced by an army, capital punishment, propaganda, fear of nuclear destruction, and of course the Hunger Games. For this week though, we will be using the movie Divergent as an example. Divergent is the first film of a four part series, and came out in March of 2014. At first glance Divergent may come off as your average action packed sci-fi film, but in reality it may be a lot deeper than that. Divergent can be related to the ideas of communism and capitalism. Five different factions known as Abnegation (the selfless), Amity (the peaceful), Erudite (the intelligent), Candor (the honest), and Dauntless (the brave) were created to prevent war and violence within the community. People are separated into these five divisions based on their aptitudes and values. If each individual person chooses their own faction and focuses on that faction only then everyone would be equal, thus no conflict will arise. This idea can be related to communism which states that resources are distributed equally among everyone; everyone is equal. Capitalism however promotes free enterprise, which states that individual people benefit based on their own action, and productivity. Abnegation (the selfless) is said to be the faction that is communist, and that is in charge of the community. Erudite (the intelligent) on the other hand is considered to be capitalist in the film. Erudite envies Abnegation and wishes that they were the factor who had the most control over the community. They wish to spread their influence and their inventions in order to eventually have more power. The idea of trying to create a perfect world is nothing new to history. It has been in the books for as long as everyone can remember. It has sparked many arguments and many wars and we have yet to come to a conclusion as to what could lead us there. The fact that communism and capitalism plays a major role in the film could be connected to logos and ethos. Each of which connect to society today. Ethos because the factor with the most trust or credibility is who’s in charge, which is Abnegation, but Erudite wishes it was them and soon tried to take over. Logos because capitalism and communism is nothing new in the world and it is logical, hence it being connected to the modern world today. Now, the factors can also be used to place people from our world into specific categories. For example, Abnegation (the selfless) as stated before run the government. Amity (the peaceful) are peacekeepers and diplomats. Dauntless (the brave) are the enforcers, such as soldier, police officers, firefighters and etc. Erudite (the intelligent) are surgeons, doctors, scientists, etc. Candor (the honest) could be judges, who rely solely on honesty for their job. Just like each faction has their own trait, they also have their own set of morals and values. One factor might think their morals are more important than another factions morals. Each faction may also dress/act a specific way and eat specific things. Each faction ultimately ends up turning against each other, this can be related to how in today's world people are divided due to their race, sex, religion, ethnicity and etc. This can connect with ethos because people being divided or judged based on their appearances and beliefs is nothing new in our world, it occurs on a daily basis and may be something that almost everyone has faced or has heard of in their life. It is a huge problem we face in our world, and it has yet to be fixed. Being put into a specific factor can also be a problem we face, for example not fitting into one category. In the film they are known as divergents and are seen as a threat, but in our world they’re not; they’re just people who are lost and confused on what they want to do. This we can also call teenagers who are soon to be college students. Many high schoolers have a hard time figuring out what they want to do with their lives, such as what college to attend or what major to pursue. This can cause many problems for them, maybe like how it caused problems for Tris and Four in the film.The mood of the film based on what we’ve discussed thus far is somewhat overpowering. It seems as though Erudite wants to dictate the community, which may be something we’ve seen before throughout history, but may ultimately fail because they’re not equipped enough to do so. Even if they think that they’re the superior factor because of their technologies or intelligence. There are many hints in the divergent series that can be connected or related to our modern world. Either it being socially or government wise. At first glance it may not seem as clear or as deep, but within further investigation one can find various hints to our history and problems that we might actually still face to this day. The same exact thing could actually go for other films as well.

A LANDSCAPE WITH DRAGONS - The Battle for Your Child’s Mind - Part 4

A story written by: Michael D. O’Brien

________

Chapter IV

The Mortal Foe of My Children

The New Illiteracy

Like it or not, we are fast becoming an illiterate people. Yes, most of us can read. Indeed, adults and children now read more books, numerically speaking, than at any other time in history. But our minds are becoming increasingly passive and image oriented because of the tremendous influence of the visual media. Television, film, and the video revolution dominate our culture like nothing before in the history of mankind. In addition, computers, word processors, pocket calculators, telephones, and a host of similar inventions have lessened the need for the disciplines of the mind that in former generations were the distinguishing marks of an intelligent person. In those days man learned to read and write because of necessity or privilege: maps, medical lore, the history of the race, genealogies, and recipes. Each of these could be handed down intact to the forthcoming generations far more easily, and with greater accuracy in written form than by word of mouth.

So too with the ancient myths and legends that embodied the spiritual intuitions of a people. The printed word guaranteed that no essential detail would be lost. And if the storyteller had the soul of an artist, he could also impart the flavor of his times, the spiritual climate in which his small and large dramas were enacted. Words made permanent on a page would to some extent overcome the weaknesses of memory and avoid the constant tendency in human nature to distort and to select according to tastes and prejudices. Furthermore, the incredible act of mastering a written language greatly increased a person’s capacity for clear thought. And people capable of thought were also better able—at least in theory—to avoid the mistakes of their ancestors and to make a more humane world. The higher goal of literacy was the ability to recognize truth and to live according to it.

Something is happening in modern culture that is unprecedented in human history. At the same time that the skills of the mind, especially the power of discernment, are weakened, many of the symbols of the Western world are being turned topsyturvy. This is quite unlike what happened to the pagan faiths of the ancient classical world with the gradual fading of their mythologies as their civilizations developed. That was a centuries-long draining away of the power and meaning of certain mythological symbols. How many Greeks in the late classical period, for example, truly believed that Zeus ruled the world from Mount Olympus? How many citizens of imperial Rome believed that Neptune literally controlled the oceans? In Greece the decline of cultic paganism occurred as the Greeks advanced in pursuit of truth through philosophy. For many Greeks the gods came to be understood as personifications of ideals or principles in the universe. The Romans, on the other hand, grew increasingly humanistic and materialistic. Though the mystery cults of the East flooded into the West as the Empire spread, the Roman ethos maintained more or less a basic pragmatism; at its best it pursued the common good, civic order, philosophical reflection. At its worst it was superstitious and unspeakably cruel. But all of this was a long, slow process of development, inculturation, and decline.

By contrast, the loss of our world of symbols is the result of a deliberate attack upon truth, and this loss is occurring with astonishing rapidity. On practically every level of culture, good is no linger presented as good but rather as a prejudice held by a limited religious system (Christianity). Neither is evil any longer perceived as evil in the way we once understood it. Evil is increasingly depicted as a means to achieve good.

With television in most homes throughout the Western world, images bombard our minds in a way never before seen. Children are especially vulnerable to the power of images, precisely because they are at a stage of development when their fundamental concepts of reality are being formed. Their perceptions and understanding are being shaped at every moment, as they have been in every generation, through a ceaseless ingathering of words and images. But in a culture that deliberately targets the senses and overwhelms them, employing all the genius of technology and art, children have fewer resources to discern rightly than at any other time in history. Flooded with a vast array of entertaining stimuli, children and parents suppose that they live in a world of multiple choices. In fact, their choices are shrinking steadily, because as the quantity increases, quality decreases. Our society is the first in history to produce such a culture and to export it to the world, sweeping away the cultures of various nations, peoples, and races and establishing the world’s first global civilisation. But what is the character of this new civilization?

The modern mind is no longer formed on a foundation of absolute truths, which past societies found written in the natural law and which were revealed to us more explicitly in Christianity: At one time song and story handed down this world of insight from generation to generation. But our songs and stories are being usurped. Films, videos, and commercial television have come close to replacing the Church, the arts, and the university as the primary shaper of the modern sense of reality. Most children now drink from these polluted wells, which seem uncleanable and unaccountable to anyone except the money-makers. The children who do not drink from them can feel alienated from their own generation, because they have less talk and play to share with friends who have been fed only on the new electronic tales.

Busy modern parents seem to have less time to read to their children or to tell them stories. Many children grow up never having heard a nursery rhyme, not to mention a real fairy tale, legend, or myth. Instead, hours of their formative years are spent watching electronic entertainment. The sad result is that many children are being robbed of vital energies, the native powers of the imagination replaced by an addict’s appetite for visceral stimuli, and creative play replaced with lots of expensive toys that are the spinoffs of the shows they watch. Such toys stifle imaginative and creative development because they do practically everything for the child, turning him into the plaything of market strategists. Moreover, most media role models are far from wholesome. Dr. Brandon Centerwall, writing in the June 10, 1992, issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association, links television violence with the soaring crime rates. There would be ten thousand fewer murders, seventy thousand fewer rapes, and seven hundred thousand fewer violent assaults, he says, if television had never been invented.

Many parents exercise very little control over their children’s consumption of entertainment. For those who try to regulate the tube, there is a constant struggle. A parent may stand guard by the television set, ready to turn it off or change the channel if offensive material flashes across the screen, but he will not be quick enough. Immoral or grotesque scenes can be implanted in his children’s minds before he has a chance to flick the remote control. He may even fall victim to his own fascination and lose the will to do so. Scientific studies have shown conclusively that within thirty seconds of watching television, a viewer enters a measurable trancelike state. This allows the material shown to bypass the critical faculty, so that images and ideas are absorbed by the mind without conscious reflection. Even when the contents of a program are not grossly objectionable, hours of boredom and nonsense are tolerated, because the viewer keeps hoping insanely that the show will get better. Television beguiles many of the senses at once, and the viewer is locked into its pace in order not to “miss anything”.

But perhaps the shows ought to be missed. When one listens carefully to many of the programs made for children, one frequently hears the strains of modern Gnosticism: “If you watch this, you will know more, be more grown-up, more smart, more cool, more funny, more able to talk about it with your friends.”—“You decide. You choose. Truth is what you believe it to be.”—“Right and wrong are what you feel are right and wrong for you. Question authority. To become what you want to be, you must be a rebel.”—“You make yourself; you create your own reality.”—“We can make a perfect world. Backward older people, especially ignorant traditionalists, are the major stumbling blocks to building a peaceful, healthy, happy planet.” And so forth. It’s all there in children’s culture, and it pours into their minds with unrelenting persistence, sometimes as the undercurrent but increasingly as the overt, central message. What stands in the path of this juggernaut? What contradicts these falsehoods? Parental authority? The Church? In film after film parents (especially fathers) are depicted as abusers at worst, bumbling fools at best. Christians are depicted as vicious bigots, and ministers of religion as either corrupt hypocrites or confused clowns.

The young “heroes” and “heroines” of these dramas are the mouthpieces of the ideologies of modern social and political movements, champions of materialism, sexual libertarianism, environmentalism, feminism, globalism, monism, and all the other isms that are basically about reshaping reality to fit the new world envisioned by the intellectual élites. Victims of their own gnosis (which they see in grand terms of “broadness” of vision, freedom, and creativity), they are in fact reducing the mystery and majesty of creation to a kind of Flatland. If this were a matter of simple propaganda, it would not get very far. No one can survive long in Flatland, because at root it is busy demolishing the whole truth about man, negating the ultimate worth of the human person, and turning him into an object to be consumed or manipulated. Thus, the propagandist must prevent any awakening of conscience and derail the development of real imagination in his audience. He must inflame the imagination in all the wrong directions and supply a steady dose of pleasurable stimuli as a reward mechanism. He must calm any uneasiness in the conscience by supplying many social projects, causes, and issues that the young can embrace with passionate pseudo-idealism.

The late Dr. Russell Kirk, in a lecture on the moral imagination, warned that a people who reject the right order of the soul and the true good of society will in the end inherit “fire and slaughter”. When culture is deprived of moral vision, the rise of the “diabolic imagination” is the inevitable result. What begins as rootless idealism soon passes into the sphere of “narcotic illusions”, then ends in “diabolic regimes”.1 Tyrants come in many forms, and only the ones who inflict painful indignities on us are immediately recognizable for what they are. But what happens to the discernment of a people when a tyrant arrives without any of the sinister costumes of brutal dictators? What happens when the errors come hi pleasing disguises and are promoted by talented people who know full well how to use all the resources of modern psychology to make of the human imagination the instrument of their purpose? How long will it take the people of our times to understand that when humanist sentiments replace moral absolutes, it is not long before we see idealists corrupting conscience in the name of liberty and destroying human lives in the name of humanity?

In many ways this new visual culture is pleasurable, but it is a tyrant. Literature, on the other hand, is democratic. One can pause and put a book down and debate with the author. One can take it up later, after there has been time to think or do some research. The reader’s imagination can select what it wishes to focus on, whereas in electronic visual media the mind is pummeled with powerful stimuli that bypass conscious and subconscious defenses. It is tragic, therefore, that authentic literature is slowly disappearing from, public and school libraries and being replaced by a tidal wave of children’s books written by people who appear to have been convinced by cultic psychology or converted in part or whole by the neopagan cosmos. Significantly, their use of language is much closer to the operations of electronic culture, and their stories far more visual than the thought-full fiction of the past. They are evangelists of a religion that they deny is a religion. Yet, in the new juvenile literature there is a relentless preoccupation with spiritual powers, with the occult, with perceptions of good and evil that are almost always blurred and at times downright inverted. At least in the old days dragons looked and acted like dragons. This, I think, not only reflects truth in a deep spiritual sense, it is also a lot more interesting. A landscape with dragons is seldom boring.

Invasion of the Imagination

The invasion of our children’s imagination has two major fronts. The first is the degradation of the human image. The second is the corruption of conscience. The territory of fantasy writing, for example, which was once concerned with a wholesome examination of man’s place in the cosmos, has become almost without our knowing it a den of vipers. The genre has been nearly overwhelmed by the cult of horror. A new wave of grisly films and novels is preoccupied with pushing back boundaries that would have been intolerable a generation ago. The young are its first victims, because they are naturally drawn to fantasy, finding in the genre a fitting arena for their sense of the mystery and danger of human existence. Yet the arena has been filled with demonic forms and every conceivable monster of the subconscious, all intent, it appears, on mutilating the bodies, minds, and spirits of the dramatic characters.

The novels of R. L. Stine, for example, have practically taken over the field of young adult literature in recent years. Since 1988, when the first title of his Fear Street series was released, and 1992, when the Goosebumps series appeared, more than a hundred million copies of his books have made their way into young hands. Through school book clubs, libraries, and book racks in retail outlets ranging from department stores to pharmacies, an estimated one and a quarter million children are introduced to his novels every month. For sheer perversity these tales rival anything that has been published to date. Each is brimming over with murder, grotesque scenes of horror, terror, mutilation (liberally seasoned with gobbets and gobbets of blood and gore). Shock after shock pummels the reader’s mind, and the child experiences them as both psychological and physical stimuli. These shocks are presented as ends in themselves, raw violence as entertainment. In sharp contrast, the momentary horrors that occur in classical tales always have a higher purpose; they are intended to underline the necessity of courage, ingenuity, and character; the tales are about brave young people struggling through adversity to moments of illumination, truth, and maturity; they emphatically demonstrate that good is far more powerful than evil Not so with the new wave of shock-fiction. Its “heroes” and “heroines” are usually rude, selfish, sometimes clever (but in no way wise), and they never grow up. This nasty little world offers a thrill per minute, but it is a like a sealed room from which the oxygen is slowly removed, replaced by an atmosphere of nightmare and a sense that the forces of evil are nearly omnipotent.

Stine does not descend to the level of dragging sexual activity into the picture, as do so many of his contemporaries. He doesn’t have to; he has already won the field. He leaves some room for authors who wish to exploit the market with other strategies. Most new fiction for young adults glamorizes sexual sin and psychic powers and offers them as antidotes to evil. In the classical fairy tale, good wins out in the end and evil is punished. Not so in many a modern tale, where the nature of good and evil is redefined: it is now common for heroes to employ evil to defeat evil, despite the fact that in the created and sub-created order this actually means self-defeat.

In the Dune series of fantasy novels, for example, a handsome, young, dark prince (the “good guy”) is pitted against an antagonist who is the personification of vice. This “bad guy” is so completely loathsome physically and morally (murder, torture, and sexual violence are among his pastimes) that by contrast the dark prince looks like an angel of light. The prince is addicted to psychedelic drugs and occult powers, both of which enhance his ability to defeat his grossly evil rival. He is also the master of gigantic carnivorous worms (it may be worth recalling here that “worm” is one of several medieval terms for a dragon). There is a keen intelligence behind the Dune novels and the film that grew out of them. The author’s mind is religious in its vision, and he employs a tactic frequently used by Satan in his attempt to influence human affairs. He sets up a horrible evil, repulsive to everyone, even to the most naïve of people. Then he brings against it a lesser evil that has the appearance of virtue. The people settle for the lesser evil, thinking they have been “saved”, when all the while it was the lesser evil that the devil wished to establish in the first place. Evils that appear good are far more destructive in the long run than those that appear with horns, fangs, and drooling green saliva.

The distinction may not always be clear even to discerning parents. Consider, for example, another group of fantasy films, the enormously successful Star Wars series, the first of which was released in 1977, followed by two sequels. They are the creation of a cinematic genius, so gripping and so thoroughly enjoyable that they are almost impossible to resist. The shining central character, Luke Skywalker, is so much a “good guy” that his heroic fight against a host of evil adversaries resembles the battles of medieval knights.

Indeed, he is called a “knight”, though not one consecrated to chivalry and the defense of Christendom, but one schooled in an ancient mystery religion. He too uses supernatural powers to defeat the lower forms of evil, various repulsive personifications of vice. Eventually he confronts the “Emperor”, who is a personification of spiritual evil. Both Luke and the emperor and various other characters tap into a cosmic, impersonal power they call “the Force”, the divine energy that runs the universe. There is a “light side of the Force” and a “dark side of the Force”. The force is neither good nor evil in itself but becomes so according to who uses it and how it is used. There is much to recommend this film trilogy, such as its message that good does win out over evil if one perseveres with courage. The romantic side of the plot is low-key and handled with surprising sensitivity to the real meaning of love (with the exception of two brief scenes). Other messages: The characters are unambiguously on the side of good or evil; even the one anti-hero, Han Solo, is not allowed to remain one. He becomes a better man through the challenge to submit to authority and to sacrifice himself for others. Luke is repeatedly told by his master not to use evil means to defeat evil, because to do so is to become evil. He is warned against anger and the desire for vengeance and is exhorted to overcome them. In the concluding film, Luke chooses to abandon all powers, refusing to succumb to the temptation to use them in anger. It is this powerlessness that reveals his real moral strength, and this is the key component in the “conversion” of the evil Darth Vader. The final message of the series: Mercy and love are more powerful than sin and hate.

Even so, the film cannot be assessed as an isolated unit, as if it were hermetically sealed in an antiseptic isolation ward. It is a major cultural signpost, part of a larger culture shift. If Dune represents the new Gnosticism expressed aggressively and overtly, Star Wars represents a kind of “soft Gnosticism” in which the gnosis is an undercurrent beneath the surface waves of a few Christian principles. It is important to recall at this point that during the second century there were several “Christian Gnostic” sects that attempted to reconcile Christianity and paganism and did so by incorporating many praiseworthy elements from the true faith. Similarly, Luke and company act according to an admirable moral code, but we must ask ourselves on what moral foundation this code is based, and what its source is.

here is no mention of a transcendent God or any attempt to define the source of “the Force”. And why is the use of psychic power considered acceptable? A major theme throughout the series is that good can be fostered by the use of these supernatural powers, which in our world are exclusively allied with evil forces. Moreover, the key figures in the overthrow of the malevolent empire are the Jedi masters, the enlightened elite, the initiates, the possessors of secret knowledge. Is this not Gnosticism?

At the very least these issues should suggest a close appraisal of the series by parents, especially since the films were revised and re-released in 1997, and a new generation of young people is being influenced by them. The most pressing question that should be asked is, which kind of distortion will do the more damage: blatant falsehood or falsehood mixed with the truths that we hunger for?

Vigilance, Paranoia, and Uncle Walt

No assessment of the situation should overlook the influence of Walt Disney Productions. Its unequalled accomplishments in the field of animation and in drama for children have made it a keystone in the culture of the West. Walt Disney became a kind of secular saint, a patron of childhood, the archangel of the young imagination. Some of this reputation was merited. Who among us has not been delighted and, indeed, formed by the films released in the early years of production, modern retellings of classic fairy stories such as Sleeping Beauty, Pinocchio, and Snow White. In these and other films, evil is portrayed as evil, and virtue as a moral struggle fraught with trial and error. Telling lies makes your nose grow long; indulging in vice turns you into a donkey; sorcery is a device of the enemy used against the good; witches are deadly. There are even moments that approach evangelization. In Fantasia, for example, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” segment is a warning about dabbling in occult powers. In the final segment, “Night on Bald Mountain”, the devil is shown in all his malice, seducing and raging, but defeated by the prayers of the saints. As the pilgrims process toward the dawn, they are accompanied by the strains of Schubert’s “Ave Maria”. Although there are parts of this film too frightening for small children, its final word is holiness.

Upon that reputation many parents learned to say, “Oh, it’s by Disney. It must be okay!” But even in the early years of the Disney studios, the trends of modernity were present. As our culture continued to follow that tendency, films continued to diverge from the traditional Christian world view. Snow White and Pinocchio are perhaps the most pure interpretations of the original fairy tales, because the changes by Disney were of degree, not of kind. Much of the editing had to do with putting violence and other grotesque scenes off-screen (such as the demise of the wicked queen), because reading a story and seeing it are two different experiences, especially for children.

By the time Cinderella hit the theaters, the changes were more substantial. For example, Cinderella’s stepsisters (in the Grimm version) were as beautiful as she, but vain and selfish. And the prince (in both the Grimm and Perrault versions) sees Cinderella in rags and ashes and still decides to love her, before she is transformed back into the beauty of the ball. These elements are changed in the Disney version, with the result that Cinderella wins the prince’s hand, not primarily because of her virtue, but because she is the prettiest gal in town. Some prince!

Walt Disney died in 1966. During the late 1960s and 1970s the studio’s approach gradually changed. Its fantasy and science fiction films began to show symptoms of the spreading moral confusion in that genre. “Bad guys” were at times presented as complex souls, inviting pity if not sympathy. “Good guys” were a little more tarnished than they once had been and, indeed, were frequently portrayed as foolish simpletons. A strain of “realism” had entered children’s films—sadly so, because a child’s hunger for literature (visual or printed) is his quest for a “more real world”. He needs to know what is truly heroic in simple, memorable terms. He needs to see the hidden foundations of his world before the complexities and the nuances of the modern mind come flooding in to overwhelm his perceptions. The creators of the new classics had failed to grasp this timeless role of the fairy tale. Or, if they had grasped it, they arbitrarily decided it was time to change it. What began as a hairline crack began to grow into a chasm.

The Watcher in the Woods is a tale of beings from another dimension, seances, ESP, and channelling (spirits speaking through a human medium), a story that dramatically influences the young audience to believe that occult powers, though sometimes frightening, can bring great good for mankind. Bedknobs and Broomsticks, a comedy about a “good” witch, softens ancient fears about witchcraft. Pete’s Dragon is the tale of a cute, friendly dragon who becomes a pal to the young hero and helps to defeat the “bad guys”. In another time and place such films would probably be fairly harmless. Their impact must be understood in the context of the much larger movement that is inverting the symbol-life that grew from the Judeo-Christian revelation. This is more than just a haphazard development, more than just a gradual fading of right discernment in the wake of a declining Christian culture.

This is an anti-culture pouring in to take its place. Some, of it is full-frontal attack, but much of it is subtler and pleasurably packaged. Still more of it seems apparently harmless. But the undermining of a child’s perceptions in forms that are apparently harmless may be the most destructive of all. By the 1990s, old fairy tales such as Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, and The Little Mermaid were being remade by Walt Disney Productions in an effort to capture the imagination (and the market potential) of a new generation. The Little Mermaid represents an even greater break from the original intention of fairy stories than earlier retellings such as Cinderella. The mermaid’s father is shown to be an unreasonable patriarchist and she justifiably rebellious. In order to obtain her desire (marriage to a land-based human prince), she swims away from home and makes a pact with an evil Sea Witch, who turns her into a human for three days, long enough to make the prince kiss her. If she can entice him to do so, she will remain a human forever and marry him. So far, the film is close to Hans Christian Andersen’s original fairy story. But a radical departure is to be found in the way the plot resolves itself. Despite the disasters the little mermaid causes, only other people suffer the consequences of the wrong she has done, and in the end she gets everything she wants. Charming as she is, she is really a selfish brat whose only abiding impulse is a shallow romantic passion. In the original Andersen tale, the little mermaid faces some difficult moral decisions and decides for the good, choosing in the end to sacrifice her own desires so that the prince will remain happily married to his human bride. As a result of her self-denial, she is taken up into the sky among the “children of the air”, the benign spirits who do good in the world.

“In three hundred years we shall float like this into the Kingdom of God!” one of them cries.

“But we may get there sooner!” whispers one of the daughters of the air. “Unseen, we fly into houses where there are children, and for every day that we find a good child who gives its parents joy. . . . God shortens the time of [our] probation.”

Obviously there has been some heavy-handed editing in the film version, a trivialization of the characters, stripping the tale of moral content and references to God, with a net result that the meaning of the story is seriously distorted, even reversed. In a culture dominated by consumerism and pragmatism, it would seem that the best message modern producers are capable of is this: In the “real” world the “healthy ego” goes after what it wants. You can even play with evil and get away with it, maybe even be rewarded for your daring by hooking the handsomest guy in the land, winning for yourself your own palace, your own kingdom, and happiness on your own terms.

Harmless? I do not think so.

Aladdin especially represents the kind of films that are apparently harmless. To criticize it in the present climate is extremely difficult, because so many people in Christian circles have simply accepted it as “family entertainment”. But Aladdin begs some closer examination.

The animated version is adapted from the Arabian Nights, a fairy tale that originated in Persia and reflects the beliefs of its Muslim author. According to the original tale, a magician hires a poor Chinese boy named Aladdin to go into an underground cave in search of a magic lamp that contains untold power. Aladdin is not merely poor, he is lazy. Through neglect of his duties, he failed to learn a trade from his father before he died and now is vulnerable to temptation. When he finds the lamp, Aladdin refuses to give it up and is locked in the cave. When he accidentally rubs the lamp a jinn (spirit) of the lamp materializes. In the Islamic religion the jinni are demonic spirits, intelligent, fiery beings of the air, who can take on many forms, including human and animal. Some jinni are better characters than others, but they are considered on the whole to be tricksters. According to Arabian mythology, they were created out of flame, while men and angels were created out of clay and light. Whoever controls a jinn is master of tremendous power, for the jinn is his slave. Aladdin, helped by such a spirit, marries the Sultan’s daughter, and the jinn builds them a fabulous palace. But the wicked magician tricks them out of the lamp and transports the palace to Africa. Aladdin chases them there, regains the lamp in a heroic struggle, and restores the palace to China.

In the Disney remake, Aladdin is now a young hustler who speaks American urban slang in an Arabian marketplace. He is a likeable teenage thief who is poor through no fault of his own. He wants to make it big. When he meets the Sultan’s daughter, who is fleeing the boring confinement of her palace, and rescues her through wit and “street-smarts”, the romance begins. The film strives to remain true to some of the original plot, but in the characterization one sees evidence of the new consciousness. The film’s genie is a comedian of epic proportions, changing his roles at lightning speed, so that the audience barely has time to laugh before the next sophisticated entertainment industry joke is trotted out. He becomes Ed Sullivan, the Marx Brothers, a dragon, a homosexual, female belly dancers, Pinocchio, and on and on. It is a brilliant and fascinating display. He is capable of colossal powers, and he is, wonder of wonders, Aladdin’s slave. An intoxicating recipe for capturing a child’s imagination.

This is a charming film. It contains some very fine scenes and deserves some praise for an attempt at morality. The genie, for example, admonishes the young master that there are limits to the wishes he can grant: no killing, no making someone fall in love with you, no bringing anyone back from the dead. Aladdin is really a “good thief”, who robs from the comfortable and gives to the poor. He is called a “street-rat” by his enemies, yet he feels within himself aspirations to something better, something great. He is kind and generous to hungry, abandoned children; he defies the arrogant and the rich, and he is very, very brave. He is only waiting for an opportunity to show what sterling stuff he is made of. It is possible that this film may even have a good effect on the many urban children who five close to that level of poverty and desperation. By providing an attractive role model of a young person determined to overcome adversity, it may do much good in the world. There are even moments when spiritual insight is clear and true—when, for example, at the climax of the tale the magician takes on his true form, that of a gigantic serpent. And yet, there is something on the subliminal level, some undefinable warp in the presentation that leaves the discerning viewer uneasy.

Most obvious, perhaps, is the feeling of sensuality that dominates the plot. It is a romance, of course, and it must be understood that a large number of old literary fairy tales were also romances. But this is modern romance, complete with stirring music and visual impact. Aladdin and the Princess are both scantily clad throughout the entire performance, and, like so many characters in Disney animation, they appear to be bursting with hormones. There is a kiss that is more than a chaste peck. Nothing aggressively wrong, really. Nothing obscene, but all so thoroughly modern. At the very least, one should question the effect this stirring of the passions will have on the many children who flock to see the latest Disney cartoon. The cartoon, by its very nature, says “primarily for children”. But this is, in fact, an adolescent romance, with some good old cartoon effects thrown in to keep the little ones’ attention and some sly innuendo to keep the adults chuckling.

The handling of the supernatural element is, I believe, a more serious defect. To put it simply, the jinn is a demon. But such a charming demon. Funny and sad, clever and loyal (as long as you’re his master), harmless, helpful, and endlessly entertaining.

Just the kind of guardian spirit a child might long for. Does this film implant a longing to conjure up such a spirit? The film’s key flaw is its presentation of the structure of reality. It is an utterly delightful advertisement for the concept of “the tight side of the Force and the dark side of the Force”, and as such it is a kind of cartoon Star Wars. Like Luke Skywalker, Aladdin is a young hero pitched against impossible odds, but the similarities do not end there. Luke becomes strong enough to battle his foes only by going down into a cave in a mysterious swamp and facing there “the dark side” of himself. Then, by developing supernatural powers, he is enabled to go forth to defeat the evil in the world. Similarly, Aladdin first seeks to obtain the lamp by going down into the jaws of a lionlike beast that rises up out of the desert and speaks with a ghastly, terrifying voice. The lamp of spiritual power resides in a cave in the belly of the beast, and Aladdin takes it from him. Here is a clear message to the young who aspire to greater things: If you want to improve your lot in life, spiritual power is an even better possession than material powers such as wealth or physical force. It could be argued that Luke does not enlist the aid of demonic beings, nor does he cooperate with supernatural forces for selfish purposes. Indeed, he is a shining idealist. But this argument presumes that developing occult powers does not place one in contact with such evil beings—a very shaky presumption to say the least. At best there is an ambiguity in Luke’s cooperation with “the Force” that leaves ample room for the young to absorb gnostic messages.

What is communicated about the nature of spiritual power in Aladdin? Leave aside for the moment the question of the hero being helped by a “good demon” to overcome a bad one. Leave aside also the problem of telling the young that they should ignore their natural terrors of the supernatural in order to succeed in their quests. Leave aside, moreover, the subtle inference that light and darkness, good and evil, are merely reverse sides of the same cosmic coin. There are subtler messages in the film. For example, a theme running throughout is that Aladdin is “worthy” to master such power, though we never learn what constitutes his worthiness. The viewer assumes that it is his bravado, cunning, and basically good heart. In reality, none of us is worthy of powers that properly belong to God alone. None of us is worthy of restoration to Paradise. Salvation is Gods gift to mankind by the merits of his death on the Cross. Even so, we have not yet reached our one true home. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, and in this world no one is capable of wielding evil supernatural powers without being corrupted by them. It is modern man’s ignorance of this principle that is now getting the world into a great deal of trouble. A powerful falsehood is implanted in the young by heroes who are given knowledge of good and evil, given power over good and evil, who play with evil but are never corrupted by it.

Beauty and the Beast handles the problem differently, but the end result is the same — the taming of the child’s instinctive reaction to the image of the horrible. The Beast is portrayed as a devil-like being. He is not merely deformed or grotesque, as he is in the written fable. In the film his voice is unearthly and horrifying; he is sinister in appearance, his face a hideous mimicry of medieval gargoyles, his body a hybrid abomination of lion, bull, bear, and demon. His castle is full of diabolical statues. Of course, the central themes are as true and timeless as ever: Love sees beneath the surface appearance to the interior reality of the person; and love breaks the spell that evil casts over a life.

Yet here too there are disturbing messages: A “good witch” casts the spell in order to improve the Beast’s character, implying that good ends come from evil means. But no truly good person does harm in order to bring about a good. While it is true that good can come out of evil situations, it is only because God’s love is greater than evil. God’s primary intention is that we always choose the good. In the original fairy tale, the spell is cast by an evil sorcerer, and the good conclusion to the plot is brought about in spite of him.

The Disney Beast really has a heart of gold. By contrast, handsome Gaston, the “normal” man, proves to be the real villain. He is a despicable parody of masculinity, a stupid, vain macho-man, who wishes to marry the heroine and chain her to the ennui of dull village life. The Beauty in the original tale embraces the virtues of hard work and the simple country life that result from her father’s misfortune. The Disney Beauty pines for something “better”. There is a feminist message here, made even stronger by the absence of any positive male role models. Even her father is a buffoon, though loveable. This gross characterization of “patriarchy” would not be complete without a nasty swipe at the Church, and sure enough, Gaston has primed a clown-like priest to marry them. (The depiction of ministers of religion as either corrupt or ridiculous is practically unrelieved in contemporary films — Disney films are especially odious in this respect.)

To return for a moment to the question of beauty: A principle acknowledged in all cultures (except those in a terminal phase of self-destruction), is that physical beauty in creation is a living metaphor of spiritual beauty. The ideal always points to something higher than itself to some ultimate good. In culture this principle is enfleshed, made visible. If at times spiritual beauty is present in unbeautiful fictional characters or situations, this only serves to underline the point that the physical is not an end in itself. In Disney’s Pocahontas we find this principle inverted. Dazzling the viewer’s eyes with superb scenes that are more like impressionistic paintings than solid narrative, stirring the emotions with haunting music and the supercharged atmosphere of sexual desire, its creators are really about a much bigger project than cranking out yet another tale of boy-meets-girl. Beauty is now harnessed to the task of promoting environmentalism and eco-spirituality. The real romance here is the mystique of pantheism, a portrayal of the earth as alive, animated with spirits (for example, a witchlike tree-spirit gives advice to Pocahontas about the nature of courtship). The earth and the flesh no longer point to something higher than themselves; they are ends in themselves. The “noble savage” understands this; the white, male, European Christian does not. And as usual, Disney portrays masculinity in its worst possible tight (excepting only the hero, Smith, who is sensitive and confused). The other European males are rapacious predators, thoughtless builders, dominators, polluters, and killers; and those who are not any of the foregoing are complete nincompoops. It is all so predictable, all so very “consciousness-raising”. What child does not take away from the film the impression that, in order to solve his problems, industrial-technological man need only reclaim the lost innocence of this pre-Columbian Eden?

I did not view Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame in a theater but watched the video release at home. The effect of the full-screen experience must have been overwhelming for audiences, because the visual effects in the video version were very impressive, clearly among Disney’s most brilliant achievements in animation. However, I was disturbed by themes that have now become habitual with this studio. Within the first ten minutes of the story a self-righteous Catholic moralist rides into the plot on horseback and chases a poor gypsy mother, who runs barefoot through the streets of Paris, carrying her baby in her arms, in a desperate attempt to reach the sanctuary of Notre Dame cathedral. She stumbles on the steps of the church and dies. The moralist picks up the baby, discovers that he is deformed, a “monster”, and decides to dispose of him by dropping him down a well, all the while muttering pious imprecations against this “spawn of the devil”. So far, not a great portrait of Catholicism. In the only redeeming moment in the film, a priest rushes out of the cathedral, sees the dead woman, and warns the moralist that his immortal soul is in danger. To amend for his sin, he must agree to be the legal guardian of the baby. The moralist agrees, on the condition that the monster be raised in secret in Notre Dame.

In the next scene the baby is now a young man, Quasimodo, a badly deformed hunchback who lives in isolation in the tower of the cathedral. He is the bell ringer, a sweet soul, humble, good, and creative, content to make art and little toys and to observe from his lonely height the life of the people of Paris. His solitude is broken only by the occasional visits of the moralist, who takes delight in reminding Quasimodo that he is a worthless monster who survives only because of his (the moralist’s) “kindness”. Is there anyone in the audience who has missed the point: The moralist is the ultimate hypocrite, the real monster. Quasimodo’s only other friends are three gargoyles, charming, humorous little demons who are reminiscent of the Three Stooges. They encourage him to believe in love, to believe in himself, to have courage. In one interesting short scene, the gargoyles mock a carving of the Pope. Later in the film there is a scene depicting the churchgoers praying below in the cathedral. Without exception they pray for wealth, power, and gratification of their desires—a portrait of Catholics as utterly selfish, shallow people.

A sensual young gypsy woman flees into the cathedral to escape the moralist (who is also a judge). Safe inside, she prays for divine assistance in a vague, agnostic fashion. In stark contrast to the prayers of the Catholics, there is nothing selfish in her prayer. She merely asks for justice for her people. As the music swells, she turns away from the altar, still singing her “prayer”, strolling in the opposite direction of the Catholics who are approaching the altar. Her supplication dissolves into a romantic musing that is more sentiment than insight into the nature of real mercy and justice. Disney’s point is clear: Traditional Christianity is weak, blind, and selfish; “real Christianity” is sociological and “politically correct”.

The romantic element, a mutual attraction between the gypsy woman and a young soldier, is simply a rehash of the screen romances that have become a necessary ingredient in Disney animated films. Lots of body language, lots of enticing flesh, a garish portrayal of the tormented moralist’s secret lusts, a contrasting depiction of the beautiful young couples sexual desire as pure and natural, and a sensual screen kiss that is inappropriate for young viewers (as it is in Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, and other Disney films). Perhaps we should ask ourselves if viewing such intimate moments between man and woman is ever appropriate, even for adults. Is voyeurism, in any form, good for the soul?

The Hunchback of Notre Dame concludes with a frenzied climax in which the forces of love and courage are pitted against the ignorance of the medieval Church. Quasimodo has overcome the lie of his worthlessness through the counsel of his gargoyles and is now strong enough to defy the moralist. He rescues the gypsy girl, who is about to be burned for witchcraft, and flees with her to the bell tower. There the moralist tracks them down (after first pushing aside the ineffectual priest who tries to stop him) and attempts to kill them. As one might expect, he comes to a bad end. The gypsy and the soldier are reunited, and Quasimodo makes do with platonic love. All’s well that ends well.

Based on Victor Hugo’s novel of the same tide (published in 1831), the film retains much of the plot and characterization and even manages to communicate some truths. But the reality-shift evidenced in the modern version is a serious violation of the larger architecture of truth. The truths are mixed with untruths, and because of the sensory impact of the film medium, it is that much more difficult for an audience to discern rightly between the two. This is especially damaging to children, who because of their age are in a state of formation that is largely impressionistic. Moreover, most modern people do not know their history and do not possess the tools of real thought and thus are vulnerable to manipulation of their feelings. Young and old, we are becoming a race of impressionists.

Rather than thinking with ideas, we “think” in free-form layers of images loosely connected by emotions. There would be little harm in this if the sources of these images were honest. But few sources in culture and entertainment are completely honest these days. And even if the mind were well stocked with the best of images (a very rare state), it is still not equipped to meet the spiritual and ideological confusion of our times. The problem is much deeper than a lack of literacy, because even the mental imagery created by the printed word can be merely a chain of misleading impressions, however well articulated they may be. The real problem is religious illiteracy, by which I mean the lack of an objective standard against which we can measure our subjective readings of sensation and experience. Without this objective standard, one’s personal gnosis will inevitably push aside the objective truth and subordinate it to a lesser position, when it does not banish it altogether. That is why a modern maker of culture who feels strongly that Catholicism is bad for people has no qualms about rewriting history or creating anti-Catholic propaganda and will use all the powers of the modern media to do so.

One wonders what Disney studios would do with Hugo’s Les Miserables (published in 1862), an expressly Christian story in which two central characters, the bishop and Jean Valjean, are heroic Catholics fighting for truth, mercy, and justice in the face of the icy malice of the secular humanists, against the background of the French Revolution. Would the scriptwriters and executives sanitize and politically correct these characters by de-Catholicizing them? It would be interesting to observe the contortions necessary for such a transformation. Perhaps they would do what Hollywood did to Dominique Lapierre’s wonderful book, The City of Joy. The central character in that true story, a Christlike young priest who chose to live among the most abject of Calcutta’s poor, is entirely replaced in the film version by a handsome young American doctor (who was a secondary character in the book). In the Hollywood rewrite, the doctor is idealistic but amoral, and he is in the throes of an identity crisis. Uncertain at first if he is merely a technician of the body, slowly awakening to the possibility that he might become a minister to the whole person, in the end he chooses the latter. Following the gnostic pattern, he becomes the knower as healer, the scientist as priest. It is a well-made film, containing some good insights and moving scenes, but by displacing the priest of Christ, it loses an important part of the original story’s “soul”, cheating us of the real meaning of the events on which it is based.

Where Catholicism is not simply weeded out of the culture, it is usually attacked, though the attacks tend to be swift cheap-shots. Take, for instance, Steven Spielberg’s smash hit, Jurassic Park.

Again, there is much to recommend this film, such as the questions it raises about science and morality, especially the issue of genetic engineering. In the struggle between people and dinosaurs there is plenty of human heroism, and the dinosaurs are even presented as classic reptiles—no taming or befriending here. So far so good. On the level of symbolism, however, we are stunned with an image of the reptile as practically omnipotent. The Tyrannosaurus rex is power incarnate, and its smaller cousin, the Velociraptor, is not only fiercely powerful, it is intelligent and capable of learning.

There is a telling scene in which the most despicable character in the film, a sleazy lawyer, is riding in a car with two young children. When a dinosaur approaches the car to destroy it, the lawyer abandons the children to their fate and flees into an outdoor toilet cubicle. The T-Rex blows away the flimsy structure, exposing the lawyer, who is seated on the “John”, quivering uncontrollably and whining the words of the Hail Mary. The T-Rex picks him up in its jaws, crunches hard, and gulps him down its throat. In the theater where I saw the film, the audience cheered.

Where Is It All Leading?

At this point, the reader may be saying to himself, “What you describe may be true. I’ve seen evidence of it, and I’ve struggled to understand it. I’ve tried to pick my way through the flood of things coming at my children, but I’m not having much success. I’m uneasy about the new culture, but I don’t seem to have the skills to argue with it.”

I think most conscientious parents feel this way. We know something is not right, but we don’t quite know how to assess it. We worry that our children might be affected adversely by it, but at the same time we don’t want to overreact. The image of the “witch-hunt” haunts us (a fear that is strongly reinforced by the new culture), but we are equally concerned about the need to protect our children from being indoctrinated into paganism. What, then, are we to do?

Our first step must be in the direction of finding a few helpful categories, a standard against which we can measure examples of the new culture. I have found it useful to divide the field of children’s culture into roughly four main categories:

 1. Material that is entirely good.

 2. Material that is fundamentally good but disordered in some details.

 3. Material that appears good on the surface but is fundamentally disordered.

 4. Material that is blatantly evil, rotten to the core.

I will return to these categories in the next chapter’s assessment of children’s literature, where I hope to develop them in greater detail. I introduce them here to make a different point. Two generations ago the culture of the Western world was composed of material that, with few exceptions, was either entirely good (1) or fundamentally good but disordered in some details (2). About forty years ago there began a culture-shift that steadily gathered momentum, a massive influx of material that appeared good on the surface but was fundamentally disordered (3). It became the new majority. During this period entirely good material became the minority and at the same time more material that was diabolically evil began to appear (4). There is a pattern here. And it raises the question: Where is it all leading?

I think it highly unlikely that we will ever see a popular culture that is wholly dominated by the blatantly diabolical, but I do believe that unless we recognize what is happening, we may soon be living in a culture that is totally dominated by the fundamentally disordered and in which the diabolical is respected as an alternative world view and becomes more influential than the entirely good. Indeed, we may be very close to that condition. I can think of half a dozen recent films that deliberately reverse the meaning of Christian symbols and elevate the diabolical to the status of a saving mythology.

The 1996 film Dragon Heart, for example, is the tale of a tenth-century kingdom that suffers under a tyrannical king. When the king is killed in a peasant uprising, his son inherits the crown but is himself wounded when he is accidentally impaled on a spike. His heart is pierced, and he is beyond all hope of recovery. The queen takes her son into an underground cave that is the lair of a dragon. She kneels before the dragon, calls him “Lord”, and begs him to save the princes life. The dragon removes half of his own heart and inserts it into the gaping wound of the prince’s chest, then heals the wound with a touch of his claw. The queen says to her son, “He [the dragon] will save you.” And to the dragon she says, “He [the prince] will grow in your grace.” The prince recovers and grows to manhood, the dragon’s heart beating within him.

The prince becomes totally evil, a tyrant like his father, and the viewer is led to believe that, in this detail at least, traditional symbolism is at work—the heart of a dragon will make a man into a dragon. Not so, for later we learn that the prince’s own evil nature has overshadowed the dragon’s good heart. When the dragon reappears in the plot and becomes the central character, we begin to learn that he is not the terrifying monster we think him to be. He dabbles in the role the superstitious peasants have assigned to him (the traditional concept of dragon), but he never really does any harm, except to dragon slayers, and then only when they attack him without provocation. Through his growing friendship with a reformed dragon slayer, we gradually come to see the dragon’s true character. He is wise, noble, ethical, and witty. He merely plays upon the irrational fears of the humans regarding dragons because he knows that they are not yet ready to understand the higher wisdom, a vision known only to dragons and their enlightened human initiates. It is corrupt human nature, we are told, that has deformed man’s understanding of dragons.

The dragon and his knight-friend assist the peasants in an uprising against the evil prince. Even a Catholic priest is enlisted in the battle. This character is yet another Hollywood buffoon-priest, who in his best moments is a silly, poetic dreamer and at worst a confused and shallow remnant of a dishonored Christian myth. Over and oyer again, we are shown the ineffectiveness of Christianity against evil and the effective power of The People when they ally themselves with the dragon. The priest sees the choice, abandons his cross, and takes up a bow and arrow, firing two shafts into the head and groin of a practice dummy. In a final battle, he overcomes his Christian scruples and begins to shoot at enemy soldiers, quoting Scripture humorously (even the words of Jesus) every time he shoots. An arrow in a soldier’s buttock elicits the priest’s sly comment, “Turn the other cheek, brother!” When he aims at the evil prince, he murmurs, “Thou shalt not kill! Thou shalt not kill!” then proceeds to disobey the divine commandment. The arrow goes straight into the prince’s heart, but he does not fall. He pulls the arrow from his heart and smiles. Neither Christian myth nor Christian might can stop this kind of evil!

Here we begin to understand the objectives that the scriptwriter has subtly hatched from the very beginning of the film. The prince cannot die because a dragon’s heart beats within him, even though he, not the dragon, has corrupted that heart. The evil prince will die only when the dragon dies. Knowing this, the dragon willingly sacrifices his own life in order to end the reign of evil, receiving a spear thrust into his heart. At this point we see the real purpose of the film—the presentation of the dragon as a Christ-figure!

Shortly before this decisive climax, the dragon describes in mystical tones his version of the history of the universe: “Long ago, when man was young and the dragon already old, the wisest of our race took pity on man. He gathered together all the dragons, who vowed to watch over man always. And at the moment of his death, the night became alive with those stars [pointing to the constellation Draco], and thus was born the dragon’s heaven.”

He explains that he had shared his heart with the dying young prince in order to “reunite man and dragon and to ensure my place among my ancient brothers of the sky”.

In the final moments of the film, after the dragon’s death, he is assumed into the heavens amidst heart-throbbing music and star bursts and becomes part of the constellation Draco. The crowd of humans watch the spectacle, their faces filled with religious awe. A voice-over narrator says that in the years following “Draco’s sacrifice” a time of justice and brotherhood came upon the world, “golden years warmed by an unworldly light. And when things became most difficult, Draco’s star shone more brightly for all of us who knew where to look.”

Few members of the audience would know that, according to the lore of witchcraft and Satanism, the constellation Draco is the original home of Satan and is reverenced in their rituals. Here is a warning about where Gnosticism can lead. What begins as one’s insistence on the right to decide the meaning of good and evil leads inevitably to spiritual blindness. Step by step we are led from the wholly good to flawed personal interpretations of good; then, as the will is weakened and the mind darkened, we suffer more serious damage to the foundation itself and arrive finally if we should lose all reason, at some manifestation of the diabolical.

When this process is promulgated with the genius of modern cinematic technology, packaged in the trappings of art and mysticism, our peril increases exponentially. My wife and I have known devout, intelligent, Christian parents who allowed their young children to watch Dragon Heart because they thought it was “just mythology”. This is an understandable naïveté, but it is also a symptom of our state of unpreparedness. The evil in corrupt mythology is never rendered harmless simply because it is encapsulated in a literary genre, as if sealed in a watertight compartment. Indeed, there are few things as infectious as mythology.

We would be sadly mistaken if we assumed that the cultural invasion is mainly a conflict of abstract ideas. It is a major front in the battle for the soul of modern man, and as such it necessarily entails elements of spiritual combat. For this reason parents must ask God for the gifts of wisdom, discernment, and vigilance during these times. We must also plead for extraordinary graces and intercede continuously for our children. The invasion reaches into very young minds, relaxing children’s instinctive aversion to what is truly frightening. It begins there, but we must understand that it will not end there, for its logical end is a culture that exalts the diabolical. There are a growing number of signs that this process is well under way.

In most toy shops, for example, one can find a number of soft, cuddly dragons and other monsters to befriend. There are several new children’s books about lovable dragons who are not evil, merely misunderstood. In one such book, given as a Christmas present to our children by a well-meaning friend, we found six illustrations that attempted to tame the diabolical by dressing it in ingratiating costumes. The illustrator exercised a certain genius that made his work well nigh irresistible. One of the images portrayed a horrible, grotesque being at the foot of a child’s bed. The accompanying story told how the child, instead of driving it away, befriended it, and together they lived happily ever after. The demonic being had become the child’s guardian. One wonders what has become of guardian angels! Such works seek to help children integrate “the dark side” into their natures, to reconcile good and evil within, and, as our friend expressed it, to “embrace their shadows”.

In Lilith, a classical fantasy by the nineteenth-century Christian writer George MacDonald, the voice of Eve calls this darkness “the mortal foe of my children”. In one passage a character describes the coming of “the Shadow”:

He was nothing but blackness. We were frightened the moment we saw him, but we did not run away, we stood and watched him. He came on us as if he would run over us. But before he reached us he began to spread and spread, and grew bigger and bigger, till at last he was so big that he went out of our sight, and we saw him no more, and then he was upon us.

It is when they can no longer see him that his power over them is at its height. They then describe how the shadow temporarily possessed them and bent their personalities in the direction of hatred. He is thrown off by love welling up within their hearts.

The German writer Goethe, in his great classic work Faust, uses a different approach to depict the seduction of mankind. At one point the devil says:

    Humanity’s most lofty power,

    Reason and knowledge pray despise!

    But let the Spirit of all lies

With works of dazzling magic blind you,

    Then absolutely mine, I’ll have and bind you!

In children’s culture a growing fascination with the supernatural is hastening the breakdown of the Christian vision of the spiritual world and the moral order of the universe. Reason and a holy knowledge are despised, while intoxicating signs and wonders increase.

________

1 Russell Kirk, “The Perversity of Recent Fiction; Reflections on the Moral Imagination”, in Reclaiming a Patrimony (Washington, D.C.: The Heritage Foundation, 1982).

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 1 Side A Round 3

The other side - The Greatest Showman Musical

"Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play? 'Cause I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride It'll take you to the other side"

How bad can I be? - The Lorax (Movie)

"How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doing what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be?"

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

"I contend that your drinking eye has never opened I insist somebody will die, and I hate hoping Wishing that the pills let you cry, and I hate coping Someday I will go back outside and see her, okay"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

The other side - The Greatest Showman Musical

Propaganda:

uhhh i never watched the greatest showman but the song goes HARD and its cool as fuck to see how ppl portray these opposing tropes & characters in their animatics

Obnoxious as hell but without it weed be down so many homoerotically charged interactions. The enemies to lovers people would be quaking

it was so popular even i wanted to make an animatic of it 😭 (i never did cause i didn’t even have a stylus at the time but i think that was for the better)

Luz and Hunter. Grian and Mumbo / Etho and Bdubs. Hawks and Dabi. I'm sure I'm forgetting something

oh my god??? the homoerotism of trying to convince ur enemy to join ur side??? whats there not to love?

The only objectively good song in The Greatest Showman deserves some respect, god damn it. Also it's a very catchy way to show a character's betrayal/character changes in general.

The song just overall slaps and also it's great for showing characters having a conflict with one trying to convince the other to join the opposing side

its very character driven, so no wonder its very popular. almost every fandom ive been in has an animatic of this song.

Animatics with the song:

Creepypasta Marble Hornets

Karmaland

BNHA Villain Deku

The Owl House

The Promised Neverland

She-Ra

How bad can I be? - The Lorax (Movie)

Propaganda:

it’s an evil bop

I need everyone to go watch How Bad Can I Be? By Public Spam Account. The best animatic every, plus the song is perfect for any villain character and came from a movie deeply important to tumblr lore

...the only propaganda i have for this is the time two years ago when a zine team gave andrew francis like $50 to sing part of it in the voice of morro ninjago thanks to a joke about onceler morro. someone did animate it if that helps at all

Animatics with the song:

DSMP

Hermitcraft

Darkstalker Animatic

DeadCells The King Animatic

MBIT ENTJ Animatic

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

Propaganda:

jack stauber is iconic for his contributions to the youtube animation community already but baby hotline especially it makes me evil <4

Animatics with the song:

Chainsaw Man

Your Boyfriend

Welcome Home

The Mandela Catalogue

The Owl House

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.