Hypothesis: The majority of the problems in the world are caused by two types of people: Bureaucrats and Total Crazed Fanatics.
By Bureaucrats, I mean go-along-to-get-along careerist types, who will follow their bosses’ orders no matter how stupid or evil they are, and who will go “by the book” no matter what. These are the types of people who operate on mantras like “no one ever got fired for buying IBM“. They are prone to groupthink and “not my department”-style passing the buck.
Adolf Eichmann is an example of this type carried to the very extremest evil.
Total Crazed Fanatics, on the other hand, feel accountable to no one except themselves. They will stop at nothing to get what they want, even if it is considered immoral or evil. TCFs are relentless and will use any means necessary. They are also usually prone to wanton cruelty and violence.
Most of the infamous dictators in history fall into this category, including Hitler, Stalin, Caligula, and so on. But you can see this personality type on smaller scale in anyone who uses bully-style tactics.
Moreover, there is an ecosystem of sorts that evolves between these two types that guarantees the continued production of both bureaucrats and TCFs, in the sense that strong bureaucratic systems with lots of rules are usually created to constrain TCFs. But because bureaucrats are cowards, they will yield to someone who applies enough pressure–that is, someone crazed and fanatical enough. So bureaucracies exist to stop TCFs, but ultimately cause more extreme TCFs to emerge in response and topple them.
What do you think? Is this hypothesis correct? Does it explain most (or any) conflicts you see in the world, or not?
So, time to lay my cards on the table and confess what was truth and what was not in this post.
B is the lie. I can speak a little German, but not fluently. I do have a degree in Economics, and I have edited papers published in academic journals.
B is the lie. I wish it weren’t. I figured most people would know that a horror writer probably would hang out in cemeteries; so this was probably the easiest one to guess. I did catch a pass from an NFL quarterback. I was 14 years old and he was visiting a football camp I was in.
C is the lie. I hate gardening, and can’t paint at all. Amazingly, for as much as I write about them, I have never seen a Savoy Opera performed live. Really a shame. My nickname was “Tank”, because I was big but slow.
C is the lie. I dress as all kinds of weird stuff–never the same thing twice! Yes, for as much as I criticize them, and despite the fact I’ve never voted for one at the Federal level, I’m actually registered as a Republican. It was just what you did in my small town. I never bothered to change it. It does mean I get some hilarious mailings in election years. I also never learned to type or write cursive. Pathetic for a writer, isn’t it?
A is the lie. I’m a lifelong vegetarian and teetotaler. Boring, huh? And yes, my personality did change after I fell out of a building. It wasn’t a head injury, though–it was just that I realized I needed to appreciate life more.
This game was a lot of fun. Thanks to Barb Knowles of Saneteachers for nominating me for it. I just wish I could have done better on guessing her lies!
But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince’s own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within.
[Credit where credit is due: she picked Denver to win. And so, as promised…]
There once was a chap named “Gambrel”,
Who was a mysterious man from the shadows.
This fellow proclaimed he knew damn well
That Carolina was bound to take down the Broncos.
But his pondering friend, Maggie Jean,
(Some folks knew her better as “thingy”)
Predicted that Denver, with defense tough and mean,
Would down Carolina, and win the Super Bowl ring-y.
(When a poet in haste is composing his rhyme
“Y’s” must sometimes be appended to things;
And when written while pressured for time
It is “Johng” and not “John” that he sings.)
In any case, when the final whistle sounded that night,
And Peyton Manning embraced Papa Johng,
It was shown that Maggie was most certainly right;
And old Berthold had got it all wrong!
[UPDATE 4/23/2016: I loved this movie so much I also wrote a more in-depth analysis of it here. Note that it gives away the ending.]
The Western genre more or less died out after the 1970s. The social scientist in me wants to attribute this to the cultural change in that decade–the mythology of the American West was focused heavily on the image of white men with guns as heroes, and cast other groups as either supporting characters or villains. Not the most progressive genre.
But as the title indicates, Jane Got a Gun gives the firearms to a female–a mother, protecting her family from a gang of villains called “The Bishop Boys”, named for their cruel leader. (Ewan McGregor)
Natalie Portman plays Jane, the frontierswoman whose husband Bill Hammond (Noah Emmerich) encounters his old gang and is shot nearly to death by them. When he returns home on the verge of death, Jane takes her young daughter to safety and rides off to get help from her old fiancé, Dan Frost (Joel Edgerton), whom she believed had died in the Civil War, and had met again only after her marriage to Bill.
Dan at first refuses to help, still bitter that Jane left him for Bill. The Bishop Boys, meanwhile, are interrogating one of Hammond’s associates in the fur trade regarding his whereabouts. Bishop clearly remembers Jane as well, and means to track them both down.
Having been rebuffed by Dan, Jane rides into town to buy weapons. As Jane is leaving town with her arms and ammunition, one of the Bishop Boy goons drags her into an alley and holds her at gunpoint, demanding to know where Hammond is and threatening to rape her.
Dan arrives, and aims his rifle at the gang member, who offers to split the bounty on Bill Hammond with him. Dan listens, feigning interest, and Jane takes the opportunity to fire a shot into the thug’s head.
Jane and Dan hastily ride out of town and back to Jane’s ranch, where Jane pays Dan to help prepare them for the inevitable attack by the Bishop Boys. During this, we see flashbacks to Jane and Dan’s courtship, as well as to the beginning of the trouble with the Bishop gang.
Gradually, as she and Dan scramble to prepare the home’s defenses while also tending to the wounded Bill, their old feelings start to emerge. Dan recounts how his love for Jane had sustained him through the War, and how it broke him to find that she’d married another man and had a child with him.
That night, Dan’s resentment towards Bill nearly boils over, and he holds his gun at the bed-ridden man–until Jane enters, which prompts the drunken gunslinger to stagger away, muttering “I don’t know what you saw in him.”
As Dan keeps watch from the upstairs window that night, Jane joins him and tells him about what happened to her after she joined the Bishop’s wagon train. She had a daughter (named Mary, after Dan’s mother) with her when she placed herself under Bishops’ “protection”. The Bishops then took Mary from Jane, and forced Jane into prostitution. The scene flashes back to when Hammond, as a member of the gang, tried to free her, but was prevented by Bishop.
The next scene was perhaps the most disturbing, as Hammond asks one of Bishop’s men what became of Mary. He chillingly replies something to the effect that “Bishop told me to ‘take care of her’–he didn’t explain what he meant, so I made my best guess. Did you know she can’t swim?”
In a fury, Hammond races to the brothel and, in a violent but extremely cathartic scene, guns down the clientele and rescues a weeping Jane.
The transition from Dan’s face as Jane begins telling the story, to the flashback sequence, and then back to Dan, is really powerful. His expression changes completely, and his rage is such that he can barely spit a few words to say that he hopes John Bishop himself is coming.
As the night wears on, Jane and Dan venture outside the house. The scene is dark and atmospheric, and Jane utters a few words of courageous resolve. Then, shots ring out and Jane and Dan both hit the ground.
So begins the climactic showdown–I won’t spoil the ending for you, but suffice it to say that it is immensely satisfying. Not to give too much away, but watch for a certain transition that begins with a close-up on a revolver barrel–it works really well.
What a lot of the “feminist” or “strong woman” action movies get wrong is to portray the woman as a Rambo-like super-human, crushing everything in her path. Jane Got a Gun avoids this pitfall–Jane is believably vulnerable, but gains her strength on fiery resolve and force of will, rather than impossible physical strength. Portman does a terrific job conveying the transformation from sweet, innocent girl to hardened frontierswoman that Jane undergoes.
Edgerton is suitably gruff while conveying an underlying decency, and his chemistry with Portman is absolutely marvelous. McGregor is the very picture of the “villain we love to hate”. All the Bishop gang henchmen are utterly loathsome in different ways, making each one’s demise a satisfyingly bloody catharsis.
The beautiful landscapes and moody soundtrack really stuck with me. I’ve been a sucker for desert movies since I saw Lawrence of Arabia as an impressionable sixteen-year-old, and my Fallout: New Vegas binge only solidified my love for the harsh, barren landscapes. Jane uses this type of scenery to create a marvelous feeling of loneliness and isolation.
It was interesting to watch this movie so soon after seeing the new Star Wars film. Jane’s behind-the-scenes connections to Star Wars are well-documented, as Portman, McGregor and Edgerton all appeared in the prequel trilogy. More significantly than that, the original Star Wars, which the new one tries so hard to imitate, was really just George Lucas’s reinvention of the western–an attempt to translate the familiar Good vs. Evil melodrama for a new generation.
The latest Star Wars tries to do this too, but fails badly on every level. Jane Got a Gun (while obviously nota film for children, because of the violence) succeeds in capturing this old-fashioned spirit.
Both films feature a Good vs. Evil plot with a strong heroine, a reluctant hero, and a cruel villain. But while Star Wars‘s Daisy Ridley and John Boyega fail in their attempts to portray the archetypes of “strong heroine” and “reluctant hero”, respectively; Portman and Edgerton play those same roles to perfection. McGregor, meanwhile, brings a chilling charisma to the villain’s role–exactly the sort of touch Adam Driver failed to give his cartoon bad guy in Star Wars.
Jane Got a Gun does not reinvent the Western by any means, but it certainly revives it admirably. The performances are all first-rate, and the pacing is terrific. It is marketed as an action film, but there is plenty of romance and suspense as well, and the haunting desert landscape and soundtrack give it a very strong atmosphere. Go see it.