The Conservatives Don't Care About Ordinary People

I hope it is clear to people that the Conservatives not funding free school meals for children, over the school holidays, is unsurprising. It is, in fact, predictable and commonplace. This situation is yet another case demonstrating, very clearly, that the Conservatives do not care about the lives of ordinary people. 

The Conservative party, as an institution, serves corporations and rich people. Throughout history they have only served a small, corrupt group of “elites”. Any rhetoric you hear about caring for the population is false and solely in place to garner votes. This political party lies through their teeth on a daily basis. The fact that they are still not only seen as a viable option for running British society, but are actually in power, is quite staggering to me.

This post isn't about political side-taking, believe it or not. I am not saying you should support Labour or become a lefty. What you should start doing is looking at the world truthfully and thinking for yourself.

Fragments

We shouldn't underestimate our potential as a species and our ability to evolve. The future is largely open and everything in the universe is capable of developing.

Politically speaking, we need to move beyond left and right terms.

We don't need to think divisively and we are all capable of transcending petty, vicious attitudes.

Reality is multi-faceted. Our thinking must likewise be multi-faceted.

We must be sceptical of all doctrines and any isms that we come across. Doctrines and institutions stop people from thinking creatively.

When confronting injustice and oppression, we can't be soft. We also can't be aggressive, for this only creates more division and hate.

When confronting injustice and oppression, we need to be steadfast, indefatigable and compassionate. We also need to be receptive to new ideas and open to change.

We must value measured, evidence-based arguments and challenge ideological, one-dimensional ones.

Rationality and reason must be valued. Just as importantly, we need to value emotional awareness and empathy.

We must understand history in a balanced, evidence-based and contextual fashion. We need to study the events of our collective past and understand how they relate to present day events.

Every society needs a population of well-informed, critical thinking people.

We must never assume we know what is going on with someone else. We will never fully know what difficulties other people may be going through. In connection with this, we must resist comparing ourselves to other people.

We must understand that there will always be disagreement, debate and conflict, but that these phenomena can be healthy and constructive. They don't have to be hateful and toxic.

We must not cancel or censor that which we disagree with. If you passionately disagree with something, you should want to debate it in the open.

We must not automatically submit to authority. Authority and respect must be earned over time.

We must understand that everything is connected. This isn't only a mystical view, but a scientific one. You, as a biological entity, are utterly inseparable from the environment out of which you've emerged. Those who think their identity ends at their skin simply haven't pushed their thinking far enough.

We must fully accept our own mortality. Only by fully confronting death can we live in a conscious and meaningful way. We came from an abyss of death and we will return to this abyss. However, since we were conceived by this abyss, death is far more fertile and active than we often believe.

We must understand that there are no ends and no beginnings. Existence is a series of eternal transformations. To think that your physical death is an end is thus a misconception.

We must understand that all our conceptions of reality derive from human-constructed, abstract systems, such as written language. Our views of reality thus tell us more about ourselves than they do about the world around us.

We must understand that what we know about the world is minuscule compared to what we don't know about the world. Thus, we need to practice humbleness and receptivity.

In connection with being humble, we must not dismiss certain ideas as silly just because they don't conform to our preconceived, culturally relative notions of reality. For example, the idea that everything in the universe is alive and animate, even rocks, is not a silly idea to me. It is one that I intuitively believe to be true, and I have an important connection with my intuitions. It is also an idea held by Native Americans, who had a healthy, respectful relationship with their natural environment.

We must understand that life is a series of mistakes and that everybody always has something new to learn. Life should be a process of continual development and self-reflection.

Pulse (2001)

Pulse is a masterpiece of modern horror cinema. Definitions are always limiting and the category "horror" dosn't capture this film well enough. Other genres that come to mind are supernatural and psychological. Made after Ringu (1998), it is an example of so-called "J-Horror". Pulse may call to mind, as Mark Kermode has stated, Videodrome (1983), as it is an equally effective exploration of modern technology and it's symbiotic relationship with humans.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa is a skilled director who specialises in eerie, slow, atmospheric films. Through their absences and silences, Kurosawa's films engender deep dread and fear. This austere technique was used effectively in one of his best films, Cure (1997). It is also this style that gives Pulse such a terrifying atmosphere.

The most prominent theme in Pulse is loneliness. By exploring this phenomenon in a modern, technological setting, the film may be seen as a form of social commentary. Pulse suggests that although modern technology, specifically the internet, is often believed to provide more forms of communication and connection, it in many ways distances us from each other. It indicates that modern technology leads to more social isolation. Pulse was released almost 20 years ago, but today, in our screen-obsessed world of electronic mirages and internet omniscience , it seems more relevant.

The protagonist of the film, Kawashima, is a laid back and ordinary university student. He lives in a messy apartment and has long hair. He is not "techy" and there is something more human and warm about him than the other characters. He meets Harue, who is "techy". She seems more cerebral and nihilistic than Kawashima. In one scene, Harue says to a bemused Kawashima "People don't really connect, you know. We all live totally separately". It is the contrast of these two characters that makes the themes of Pulse, such as loneliness, more resonant.

In Pulse otherworldly spirits, whose intentions are shadowy and mysterious, use the internet as a medium through which to enter our world. When we meet these spirits, it is their obscurity that renders them so terrifying and powerful. If they were overtly malevolent, I think this would take away from their power. However, it seems that when humans come into contact with these spirits, they become so psychologically distraught that they commit suicide. Another student states to Kawashima, about halfway through the film:

"The spirit, the consciousness, the soul, whatever you want to call it. It turns out it's world has a finite capacity. Whether that capacity accommodates trillions or billions, eventually it will run out of space. Once it's filled to the brim, it's got to overflow somehow, somehwere. But where? The souls have no choice but to ooze into another realm; that is to say, our world"

The spirits first appear as grainy, dark, unclear images on computer screens. On a screen we see a spirit sitting on a chair, motionless, in a dark room. Though the shape of a human, there is something non-human and unsettling about these pixellated figures. They evoke a deep, Lynchian dread.

Filmed on 35mm film, Pulse has a rich grainy texture which marries perfectly with it's narrative. This texture points to the pixellated world of computer graphics and provides an appropriate medium through which to depict unsettling spirits. The film isn't particularly colourful and a kind of greyness dominates many scenes. Even the weather, in rare outside scenes, is grey and apocalyptic. This grainy texture and lack of colour adds to the film's pervading theme of loneliness.

The soundtrack for Pulse, by Takefumi Haketa, is significant. Haketa's eerie theme song of echoed, choir tones rising and falling, amid a backdrop of fear inducing drums, adds to the theme of an unfamiliar, unsettling spirit world. The drums make one feel that the spirits, with their haunting, high-pitched tones, are invading our world. There is also a frequently used sound-effect we hear, like a scratched, electronic sound played in reverse, which is unsettling and dread inducing.

The spirits come across as desperate and tortured, in that they frequently say "help" in a pained and distorted way. Again, this isn't the typical malevolent spirit in other horror films. But this makes Pulse scarier. The spirits are desperately trying to escape the eternal loneliness of death and seem to find an opportunity with the development of the internet. Near the end of the film, a spirit states to Kawashima: "Forever, death was eternal loneliness. Help. Help. Help. Forever, death was eternal loneliness. I am not an illusion." The sound design in this scene is significant, for we hear scratchy radio static as the spirit speaks, suggesting that the spirits are using human technologies to filter into our world and communicate with us. Technology is a medium which connects us to other, timeless dimensions. Linking us across time and space. Specifically the internet, Kurosawa realised, heralded an intense transformation of society.

Pulse is a unique, supernatural horror film and manages to evoke a shadowy feeling of complex dread while providing important social commentary. It's perceptive exploration of the isolating effects of technological communication resonates deeply today, where electronic screens and online communication have become a pervasively intrinsic aspect of modern life.

Orgies of Edo (1969)

Orgies of Edo was directed by Teruo Ishii and contains 3 separate stories. It was the second part of a group of violent sex film anthologies of his, preceded by Shogun's Joy of Torture (1968).

These film anthologies of Ishii's grew out of Japan's "Pink" genre, which were essentially low-budget erotic films and an aspect of Japan's rich sexploitation cinema. However, Ishii's anthologies kickstarted a new genre, which has been termed ero-guro or "erotic grotesque".

Ishii was a director who managed to combine eroticism and sleaze with art and technical skill. Orgies of Edo is a notable achievement for its rich colours, cinematography, set design,  costumes, experimental scenes and a deep exploration of striking sexual perversions in a historical setting.

Orgies of Edo is set at the height of the Edo Period (1603-1868). Edo, now known as Tokyo, was Japan's capital city and is renowned as the place where Japanese popular culture developed. Kabuki theatre grew out of Edo. Edo was also known as a place of hedonism and indulgence. It is thus fitting that Ishii would set his ero-guro films here.

Orgies of Edo can be read as a critique on wealth, display and superficiality. At the very opening of the first story we hear a narrator "It is the height of the Edo Period and times are prospoerous. The people contend among themselves to display much pomp, but its all empty pretense. Behind everything lies depravity and sickness of the mind". What follows are 3 tales of sexual perversion in which we find prostitution, sadism, masochism, violent abortions, bestiality, highly unusal fetishes and gore.

The infamous opening scene begins with a close-up of a man's darting eyes as the camera slowly pans backwards. We are already indicated that what follows is a film of voyeurism and a glimpse into a dream/nightmare world of sexual perversion. We see that this man exists in some kind of underworld or "hellscape", arguably reminiscent of Dante or Nobuo Nakagawa's Jigoku (1960). There is a kind of large shelving feature in which various unusual figures are involved in unusual acts. One man seems to suck fluid from a tube conected to a woman above him. A woman with four breasts is seen on a lower compartment and an alsation dog is thrown into the mix.

Orgies of Edo is done with skill and the colour, set designs and costumes are a pleasure to watch. There is a particular scene in the first film, constructed like a dream, where the protagonist Oito is chased by Hanji, a conman who she has fallen for. The set is covered in colourful Kimono fabrics of varying patterns and designs. The backdrop of the scene is red. As Hanji chases Oito, trying to have sex with her, the camera follows them rapidly, with the variously patterned Kimono fabrics flying before our eyes. This scene seems to sum up Orgies of Edo effectively, in that we have a beautiful setting rich in colour juxtaposed by an uneasy sexual game of dominance and essentially rape.

An argument can be made that films like Orgies of Edo are beneficial and admirable in that they externalise taboo desires and urges. Not to say that everyone secretly wants to partake of the events in the film. But films like this arguably throw the unconscious out on display and visualise the unusual potentialities of human experience. I don't think the film is condoning the acts it depicts. I believe Ishii is in fact critiquing such acts, which, as acknowledged earlier, are described as a "depravity and sickness of the mind" by a narrating character. But I think there is something healthy in depicting sordid, forbidden practices. The more we talk about and are aware of such things, the more we understand about the hidden recesses of the human mind.

I think the fact that sexploitation films are low budget and often under the radar is a positive thing. These films are not self-consciously trying to live up to critical and acceptable standards. Sexploitation films are on the obscure fringes of culture and are far more free to explore taboo issues than most other films. They are also refreshingly unpretentious and direct. This, as far as I'm concerned, makes them very enjoyable.

Sansho the Bailiff (1954)

Sansho the Bailiff was directed by Kenji Mizoguchi, who many would describe as one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. Even Andrei Tarkovsky, who notoriously only admired a handful of directors, approved of Mizoguchi. There is good reason for his approval.

Sansho is one of Mizoguchi's most astounding achievements. 2 other masterpieces of his are Ugetsu (1953) and The Life of Oharu (1952). These 3 films were made late in Mizoguchi's career, shortly before his death in 1956.

Sansho is possibly the most emotional, powerful and beautifully crafted film I have ever seen. I wept a lot after finishing it. It struck me deeply. I have reflected on why this is the case, and although words could not do this film justice, I still want to explain why I think this film is so powerful.

Based on a tale by 20th century writer Ogai Mori, Sansho is an historical film set in the Heian period (794-1184) of Japan. The film is ultimately about the miraculous, unending survival of love and morality in the face of societal oppression and evil. Societal pressures are shown to be mostly unfair and reprehensible in Sansho. But the goodness of a few characters manages to shine through, in spite of insurmountable odds. There is thus a tension created between societal oppression and individual morality. This is a universal theme that will resonate with many people to this day. Another Japanese director who is deeply concerned with the value of individual morality in the face of unfair societal norms is Masaki Kobayashi, who made such films as Harakiri (1962) and Samurai Rebellion (1967).

Sansho the Bailiff is the main villain in the film and is unusually who the film is named after. Sansho is a slave owner who embodies the wider immorality of the feudal society in which the film is set. This, of course, is a theme relevant to this day. Most people throughout history have been governed by immoral power structures and unfair rulers. However, Mizoguchi doesn't portray such a theme simplistically.

At the beginning of the film, we are introduced to a virtuous governor. This governor tells his son Zushio, who becomes one of the protagonists of the film, "Without mercy man is like a beast. Even if you are hard on yourself, be merciful to others". This message endures to the end of the film, even when Zushio falters and temporarily forgets it. The virtue of this governor is also recognised by a Chief Advisor, from Kyoto, later in the film. We thus find that those in power aren't always evil, painting a nuanced picture of societal oppression and humanity. Such nuance is utterly vital to an effective story, for nothing in reality is binary or one-dimensional.

Mizoguchi was renowned for long, gliding takes in deep focus, approximating the effect of classic scroll paintings prevalent in Japanese culture. Sansho and Ugetsu seem to exemplify this form of filmmaking and I would imagine these films had an influence on such directors as Kobayashi, Michelangelo Antonioni and Stanley Kubrick. Ugetsu certainly influenced Tarkovsky.

What I find to be one of the most important elements of Japanese cinema and culture is the way that empty space and silence is valued just as much as action and sound. What is left out of a scene is just as important as what is put in. This approach makes many Japanese films incredibly powerful and, maybe, "anti-sensational". The impact of a scene is rendered more resonant as half of it is left unsaid. The filmgoer therefore has to fill in and engage more with what is hapenning. There is an element of mystery in this approach, as though some phenomena can't be fully described and articulated, but have to be felt and intuited. Mizoguchi is one of the proponents of this approach and this is what helps Sansho attain such an emotional force. The beautiful scene where Anju descends into a lake is perhaps the most fitting example of this.

Though there is a lot of suffering and tribulation throughout Sansho, the final scene manages to be tragically positive and somehow life-affirming. In truth, I don't think the same can be said of Mizoguchi's The Life of Oharu. Sansho thoroughly communicates to us that in some cases, despite all possible odds, love and morality will eternally endure, even if such endurance has a staggeringly painful side to it.

Kwaidan (1964)

Kwaidan is a masterful adaptation of 4 Japanese ghost stories. Directed by Masaki Kobayashi, these films are meticulously crafted on all levels. The set design is elaborate, hand-painted and detailed. The score by Toru Takemitsu is haunting, spare and in perfect accordance with the cinematography. The camera glides slowly, in deep focus, throughout each film. The narratives themselves are also spare, the space in between each action as important and powerful as the action itself. These elements combine to create an overwhelming feeling of artifice and fantasy which can be described as expressionistic. But though we are perfectly aware that we are watching a construction, we at the same time can deeply relate to the emotions and concerns of the human characters. The unreal and the real are thus beautifully connected in this film, as in other great Japanese films like Ugetsu (1953).

In the first story of Kwaidan, a man is taken over by greed and leaves his poor wife to make a better life for himself. He soon regrets this decision and exhibits great remorse. Realising his errors and remembering his love for his wife, he returns to her. But what he finds is not what he expected. The viewer can relate to this mistake of the protagonist and his feelings of regret and remorse.

The way in which space and silence is utilised in these films only heightens their ghostly impact, engendering a cold atmosphere of cosmic, supernatural emptiness. Such space and silence is present in the cinematography, score and story-telling. As a result of this lack of sensationalism, Kwaidan manages to be far more powerful and harrowing than most supernatural, ghost or horror films.

In the second film, we find a powerful female spirit. A pact is formed with a young man, but vows are broken. Another outstanding Japanese film featuring powerful female spirits is Kaneto Shindo's eerie masterpiece Kuroneko (1968). The prominent feature of female spirits in Japanese culture can be seen as an important comment on the position of women in Japanese society. We learn through these spirits that it is harmful and ill advised to betray people and break vows. On a more general note, morally ambiguous females exacting revenge are highly prevalent in Japanese cinema. Lady Snowblood (1973) is perhaps the quintessential example of this. Female representation in Japanese cinema and culture is highly rich and varied and deserved of more study.

In many ways, Kwaidan was an anomalous film. Kobayashi, the director, was mostly known for his social commentary films, such as The Human Condition (1959-61) and Harakiri (1962). But Kwaidan, a hyper-constructed collection of ghost stories, sticks out sharply in his ouevre. However, as noted earlier, we can still find in this film poignant explorations of common human experiences.

We don't get films like this anymore. Completed by an assured, genius director, Kwaidan has a rare artistic potency. Without the special effects we have nowadays, it manages to conjure far more atmosphere than most contemporary films.

The Distortion of British History

Our veneration of Winston Churchill is a stark example of how British history is airbrushed and twisted to serve ongoing, repugnant power structures.

Churchill was an efficient war-time prime minister. He also directly contributed to a genocide in India, where 4 million Indians died in the Bengal Famine of 1943. This has appropriately lead Dr Shashi Tharoor to describe Churchill as one of "the worst genocidal dictators". This comment may inspire shock in some readers, but this is only because it goes against the established, unfounded narrative fed to us about Churchill. Some people, I imagine, will be so indoctrinated that they will try and find any way to counter this comment by Dr Tharoor, even if that means lying or continuing to distort historical truths.

Of the 1943 Bengal Famine, Churchill stated: "I hate Indians. They are a beastly people with a beastly religion. The famine was their own fault for breeding like rabbits".

Boris Johnson's veneration of Churchill tells us a lot. I have rarely seen him express such passion and energy than in some of his recent tweets, where he has vehemently opposed the defacing of Churchill's statue during the Black Lives Matter protests. I personally agree that Churchill's statue shouldn't have been defaced, but I wish Boris would have channelled such passion and energy into preparing for the global pandemic that we are in the midst of. Boris missed 5 Cobra meetings during this crisis and the UK has the second worst death toll in the world. A clear argument could be made that Boris, whose priorities are deeply immoral and skewed, has a lot of blood on his hands. But of course, Boris is just one embodiment of a sick, corporate culture that doesn't value human life.

In praising Churchill, Boris plays into a specific, nationalistic image of Britain as a great, righteous nation whose civilising mission has done the world a lot of good. This image conveniently leaves out the hidesouly violent and murderous practices of British colonial rule and how we are still complicit in global atrocities.

An example of a murderous event carried out by Britain was when Kenyans rose up and demanded their land back from British colonists. This took place between 1952-1960. As punishment for demanding their land back, Kenyans were thrown into torture camps. In some cases, in these camps, mens testicles were crushed with pliers and glass bottles were forced into womens vaginas. An example of complicity in a current global atrocity is the fact that Britain continues supplying weapons to Saudi Arabia, who have been bombing Yemeni civilians for the past 5 years.

I am not by any means saying we should vilify Britain. Please don't misunderstand me. I am saying that we need to have an accurate, multi-faceted view of history and current affairs. We need truth. Only by understanding things truthfully can we begin to make the right choices.