/ Cosmology / Theology merging with Myth, with Scholarship
Yesterday afternoon I turned day to night by watching Django Unchained. The movie ended and for a moment I couldn’t understand why there was daylight, why I was home, I’d been detached and alienated. Then last evening there I was back at the Mac, the DVD again in the slot, watching the damn movie some more. Then 2 AM I’m back up, writing about it! Doing so gave me a chance to sketch ever so briefly Creative Evolution, my Darwin- and Wagner- and Shaw-inspired religion of the 1960s: the religion of my twenties. Tarantino came within an inch of pointing toward it, but didn’t. He ought’a ‘a. So I point.
Where I want to get here is simple, but I’m coming from several different directions at once. Django, very well played by Jamie Foxx, answering who he is, says, a couple of times, “Django: the D is silent.” Good. The second time he says it, he shoots the guy who just stuttered it: “Duh, Jango.” a guy who very much needed shooting!
Quentin Tarantino is marvelous in rapidly, mostly silently, moving Django from a talented but helpless slave and abuse-magnet who doesn’t know what “positive” means, who doesn’t know what a “bounty” is, to a quick-draw, never-miss, from-any-distance revenge-and-retribution machine: Odysseus’ brother.
No, that’s not a racist pun: da brotha’: I mean it: he cleans house (not his house, the racist’s house) like Odysseus cleaned his own house, in Homer.
So, somehow the bounty hunter has made Django very smart, very skillful, very knowledgable very fast. Now he’s a linguistics expert, an orthographer. Now that “Duh, Jango” / “The D is silent” / Bang! business is very good writing; but it’s wrong. The D is not silent. DJ may be “spelled” as two “letters,” but it’s one phoneme, sort of a consonantal diphthong, has one symbol in IPA, the International Phonetic alphabet.
Now: my name has a “silent” letter: Knatz: pronounced same as gnats (where the “G” is silent). See, in German, the K is not silent: it’s K-Natz: same as in k-nabbe, or k-night … all those K’s are uttered. But English speakers don’t like that combo, English speakers dropped the Ks, a long time ago, they just say the N: (K)nappe, (k)night, (k)now …
OK: we’ll come back here, in a moment. Colliding from a different angle: God tells Abraham his name is Yahweh. (according to a not very reliable book.) (Did he spell it?) Abraham tells Isaac, Isaac tells Jacob, Jacob tells Bishop Wilberforce, Bishop Wilberforce says “Jehovah.” Is it the same god? or a different god? How do you spell it? Does Wilberforce spell it right?
Don’t answer till you consider this: In my introductory blab I gave a broader base to the Brunhilde myth than King, the bounty hunter, gives Django. Django asks how come Wotan is mad at Hilde, King says he doesn’t know. Dammit, he ought to: it’s the foundation of an important twentieth-century religion: my region: Shaw’s religion: nineteenth-century religion: Wagner’s religion: religion post-Darwin, 1859. I quick sketch some of the elements: Siegmund, Sieglinde, Brunhilde, Siegfried …
Did I get the names right? Did I spell them right? It doesn’t much matter, not in a first draft. The only authority for a message from divinity is divinity: but humans palm a human-revised Bible onto older Mss that might have had some divine inspirationi to them: so that humans are getting only garbage multiply censored.
I wanted you to have my 1960s religion as it spilled from me, mistakes, wrong names, misspellings and all.
Then we can look up the Ring, check this and that.
Here now: think trinities. Oh, not the theoretical one, the actual one, the one in people’s minds: God / Mary / Jesus.
Not the God, God, God one: God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit: Church He-hes thought that one up. No: God / Mary / Jesus. It’s a family: daddy, mommy, baby boy.
God is the god, Mary is the human intermediary, Jesus is the result: not the same as the Father, human, unlike the father, better than the father … God knew he was missing something, that we were missing something, that we didn’t mesh, didn’t connect. So, he came up with Mary, and Jesus.
Now, look: Woton, Brunhilde, Siegfried! God / spirit / hero: human hero: better than a god. and much better than a man.
Siegfried has got some woman in him, like Jesus. Did Wotan have any woman in him? Hell, he doesn’t even understand his own daughter!
Imagine God hearing that Jesus is going to cleanse the Temple, imagine God going to stop him!
Where the Temple has to be stopped, God also may have to be stopped. We need a divine human to do it.
Or: are they all failures? God? Brunhilde? Jesus?
That depends entirely on us!
Jesus got strung up. Django got strung up, about to have his nuts snipped. The question is: did we get the message? Did we read it, hear it, understand it?
How about God’s message through Ivan Illich, and me, pk, that an unregulated internet, digital data bases, cybernetic artifacts, might, used by a wise public, help pry the military industrial nation state [and big-media] complex off the people’s back? Illich got defrocked, his books stolen from libraries, unrepublished; my books were never published, those I published myself got censored by the fed. The Temple didn’t want to be cleansed! But did the people get the message?
Not that I can see. Not at all.
Oh, there’s female mixed in there too: God / Illich-pk / Valentina-Hilary …
Jesus had Mary Magdalene. I had Hilary, till she ran off, absconded, and Noreen …
Illich with an abbess
Illich had whole convents full of nuns to help, dozens followed him to Cuernavaca, he was close to a few, very close to two.
(I knew some of his nuns, but I never met Valentina) (and I assume she was a nun, I don’t know it.)
Gotta recall a favorite detail in the Homer: the wily one kills his wife’s zillion suitors, goddess Athene helps. Then he has to prepare for war: because every family of every killed suitor is now mounting an assault from the sea on Ithaca! A killer’s work is never done.
Read all the books in that astonishing epic.
I said that the guy who stuttered “Django” needed shooting? Everybody in a Tarantino film needs shooting: and I wouldn’t stop with the characters on the screen, I’d mow the audience too, including myself.
In Nous sommes tous des assassins Le Guen comes into the room, sees a guy with a gun, sprays the room: it was himself, in the mirror.
I like movies, novels, poems that tempt toward a pan-genocide. But you knew that from my own writing.
Headed by: Django Ring