Cold War Revisited: “Red Dawn”

As certain factions speculate that the world is headed toward a new Cold War, Mark Farnsworth examines the artistic legacy of this phenomenon.

Director, screenwriter, and producer John Milius has always fancied himself as a latter day Hemingway, a warrior-poet on the board of directors of the NRA, fiercely opposed to gun control, and a consultant for the deceptively named military think tank - the Center for Creative Technology. A member of the 70s movie brats alongside Lucas, Spielberg, and Scorcese, Milius is the man responsible for the finer moments in “Jaws,” “Magnum Force,” and “Apocalypse Now.” His heroes are Patton, MacArthur, and Roosevelt; not your average right-wing American icons, but mavericks, tyrants, and visionary leaders.

The film critic David Thompson wrote of Milius as having, “earned and even provoked the press reputation of a strident, magnum-brandishing reactionary. But he is more than that. He is an anarchist, he is articulate, and he has an unshakable faith in human grandeur.” This would seem true from his directorial efforts, “Dillinger,” “Conan The Barbarian,” and “The Wind and the Lion.” Yet “Red Dawn” is a rather strange nut to crack.

“Red Dawn” is the ultimate ‘what if?’ movie. Read More »

The Damned, The Birth of the Demons

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s tale is here.

We, the Demons, came to this world like this:

Thousands of years ago, there were Angels. They were the guardians of the world, when everything used to be sacred. The world was a happy place where darkness couldn’t set foot. It was a time when magic reigned.

People knew about the Angels for they sometimes came down. Once such an Angel visited a dark witch, wanting to try and stop the witch from using Dark Magic. The witch had other things in mind. She chained the Angel to the wall, so she couldn’t escape. The witch then tainted the Angel’s blood with that of her own. It sent the Angel mad, turning her into a demon. The witch, seeing her malevolence at work, decided to carry on doing the evil deed.

After she turned her the third Angel into a demon, her first creation succumbed to its hunger, and nobody saw anything of the witch after that. The former Angels themselves either killed or turned the humans into one of their own. Ever since that day Demons have ruled the earth and stalked the darkness. Read More »

Hand Cat Wife

Dear Readers, please note that this story is meant to be contained within a single paragraph.

How to begin. That is the difficulty. There are always innumerable points of entry. And the point of entry need not necessarily be the beginning. The beginning can situate itself at the beginning. I mean our point of entry can be the beginning, if that is the way it works. I only mean to begin by stating that it is unnecessary for it to be so. So where do I begin? My birth? No. Let us never speak of it again. Read More »

Cold War Revisited: “The Thing”

As certain factions speculate that the world is headed toward a new Cold War, Mark Farnsworth examines the artistic legacy of this phenomenon.

“The Thing” is the darkest film in the Kurt Russell trilogy of Carpenter’s science fiction films and the beginning of his “Apocalypse” cycle. It is a master class of pessimism nearly unrivalled in cinema and a bleak critique on the nature of humanity itself, inspired by the Reagan administration, Carpenter’s first foray into studio film making, and the escalation of the arms race with the Soviet Union.

The plot is more closely related to John W. Campbell’s novella; “Who Goes There?” than the earlier Hawks production of “The Thing from another World.” Special effects allow the shape-shifting alien to be realised in all its bloody glory, which in turn gives Carpenter the freedom to develop a claustrophobic atmosphere of mistrust, fear, and growing nihilism.

In the earlier movie the scientists and soldiers work together to destroy the visible threat of the thing, as they would do with communism. There is a unity mostly derived from the fact that they are white and embody a people fresh from the moral victory in WW2. America in the 1950s was still perceived as the ‘good guys’, the ‘land of the free and the home of the brave’.

With Carpenter’s creature everyone could be the thing and, as a consequence, an enemy. Read More »

On Race and Being a British Teen

“Kischan you Asian!” is the phrase most likely to be heard during a sixth form “Asians against Caucasians” football match at my fairly innocuous school located just outside of London. Far from being a racist attack on Kischan, a good friend of mine, the word “Asian” merely replaces the need for a swear word which would in all likelihood cause more offence.

“Out of the way white boy!” is the second phrase most likely heard. Likewise the use of skin colour in any Asian’s verbal abuse is of no consequence. Read More »

The Revenge, Finding the Pirate

The previous installment of 13-year-old Chloe Bradshaw’s dark take can be found here.

“I seek information,” Luke told the vampire before him.“I wish to know the whereabouts of a pirate.”

“And what pirate is that?”

“Jace has seen him.”

Morwena’s face turned to me. “What does he look like?” She asked.

I closed my eyes and re-lived the scene of my father’s murder, something which I had done many a time. I described him as well as I could. I grimaced when I remembered the sword plunging into my father’s belly.

I opened my eyes and, surprisingly, saw sympathy in the face of the vampire. I was confused, I had no idea that vampires were capable of feeling this way.

“I am sorry.” She whispered. I nodded, uncomfortable because her dark eyes were gazing solemnly at me.

“Did he have a gem in the hilt of his sword?” She asked.

“No.”

“Alright then.” She paused and her eyes travelled the room, as though searching for something. “Did he have a large necklace?” She finally said.

I was about to say ‘no’ again when I remembered a large gold necklace and a great ruby talisman on it.

“I thought as much.” Morwena uttered when I described it. Read More »

The Revenge: The Fellow Undead

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s tale can be found here.

That morning, I asked Luke what our plan was.

“I know people who will give us a ship for free,” he answered mysteriously as we headed towards Land’s End.

“And I have money for food,” Jay announced.

“You two go on and buy some food for the journey whilst I get us that ship, I won’t be long meet me back at the port, ” Luke told us when we reached Land’s End.

Jay and I walked into a shop and bought some salted beef, salted pork, limes, biscuits, and rum, all of that came to about eighteen guineas. After that we headed back towards the port, where Luke told us to meet him.

We saw Luke standing proud at the docks, pointing to a ship behind him. I was amazed at how he got it, considering that he didn’t pay for it.

“I told you I could get you a ship for free!” He shouted with joy.

“How did you manage it?” I asked.

“Old friends,” he winked.

“At least we have enough food this time,” I joked. I looked at the ship, it was small, but the wood was beautifully carved and the masts looked strong and sturdy. We all took a small dinghy over to the ship.

On board, I gazed into the sky at the clouds that passed by, without a care in the world. Jay stood next to me, watching the clouds like I.

“Shall we get a move on?” Luke asked, shattering the silence.

We hoisted the anchor. The ship soon set sail. I had a good feeling about going out of port this time, with a ship manageable enough for three people, and with no other crew members to worry about.

“Do we have any extra weapons?” I asked.

“No,” Jay told me, I looked over at Luke who shook his head.

“Fine, we shall stop at the next port to stock up on weaponry. Where is the closest port?”

“It’s where we will be going, Falmouth.” Luke told me.

“Right then, next stop Falmouth.”

The sea was not as bad that day, however it was still pretty rough. Come to think of it, the sea was never still round there and it still isn’t to this day. Read More »

When Humanitarianism Loses Its Message

I attended a silent vigil outside the Pakistani High Commission in London last week. It called for the abolishment of the death penalty in Pakistan and came just one week before the planned execution of a man held on death row for 18 years. Amnesty International expressed concern that this could be a case of mistaken identity.

Amongst the overly opulent urbanity of Lowndes Square, ten people quietly held banners. One stated: “7,000 Prisoners on Death Row” - a controversially large number.

The small group of protesters included two students, a Member of Parliament, and a spokesperson for Amnesty International.

In a handing over of letters, John McDonnell MP was invited inside the High Commission’s office to present the case for the potentially wrongly accused prisoner, and to appeal for the end of the Pakistani death penalty.

Amnesty said it was very likely that the execution of the man will be stopped in order to have his identity verified independently. Moreover, they are hopeful that the new government in Pakistan may suspend the death penalty as early as this week.

I spoke to Niall Couper, the Amnesty spokesperson, who argued that the death penalty presents a serious moral cost to the societies in which it is practiced. A government’s legal system that sponsors the killing of its citizens, he explained, sends a message that homicide is an acceptable punitive measure. This, he said, can actually increase the rate of murder rather than reduce it.

Towards the end of the vigil, as banners were packed and the demonstrators began making their way back, another moral cost emerged. Read More »

The Revenge: The Bane of Immortality

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s pirate saga can be found here.

While I thought about my brother and contemplated my undead state, Luke sat nearby, eyes closed.

“I am ready to leave.” I told him when the thinking got to be too much.

“Alright.”

I followed his lead as we both walked to the edge of the rock and jumped in. I was expecting the water to be cold, even after Luke said it wouldn’t be. I didn’t even feel wet. The current moved me up and down. The birds stayed away from us and wouldn’t come near.

“Animals are nervous around us, for we are not entirely human now,” Luke explained.

Swimming felt effortless, like I wasn’t even moving my arms and legs. Land seemed to be bearing closer, faster then possible. I felt the wind in my hair, but not the cold.

We reached Land’s End and its port. When we we climbed onto the wooden dock, I looked down at my clothes. They were bone dry. I glanced at Luke and noticed that he too had come up dry.

We started walking. Silence filled the air like a plague. The hills were breathtaking, heather covered most of them, making the hills look purple. I saw horses grazing in the nearby fields, as well as sheep. People were wrapped up warm and the leaves blew in the wind, the only sign that it was cold. As before, we came upon Sennen at record speed.

I was so content just walking through the cobbled streets of my home town. The sensation of being back really was wonderful. It felt like I had been gone for a life time. I saw Luke looking around and I had the feeling that he had not been here before.

“No,” he said when I asked him. “I never saw the point, I favoured going to places far away from home, and Sennen is too close to home.”

I felt great sympathy for Luke. It must have been grim, spending so many years alone. And I was also grateful that I would not spend years alone without anyone to talk to. Read More »

The Revenge: The Drowned

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s pirate saga can be found here.

Floating in the sea I looked around in search for the other members of my doomed crew.

I couldn’t see through the sheet of rain. I did manage to glimpse Mr Williams’ figure, head bobbing up and down over the waves. With the last ounce of strength I had I swam towards him. When I arrived, he looked in pretty bad shape

He couldn’t stay afloat and I couldn’t keep him at the surface. Tears came to my eyes. I still feel responsible for his death, and as I am writing this, the same tears are forming again. I couldn’t save no matter how much I wanted to. He looked at me, eyes wide with fear. His expression froze before he sank to the sea bed.

I glanced around in hope that I would see someone else. Alas, no one was in sight. I looked around desperately once more, before I started to swim towards Long Ships. The water was freezing and my heartbeat was slowing. I was running out of hope.

The rain was still pounding and the storm still taunting. I wasn’t that far away from Long Ships, when I realized I couldn’t go any further. It was painful when I breathed in, like someone was pounding upon my ribcage with fists of steel.

My eyes were shutting. I felt numb, the coldness didn’t reach me now. I wasn’t in pain just awfully tired. I stopped panicking, there was no point. I let my eyes close and the current took me. Read More »