Thursday, September 24, 2020

Wanted for Treason (and Murder)

Why murder him? What did he? By what right? Who told you to?
-- Racine
Released to co-conspirator Lyndon Baines Johnson 56 years ago today: the Report of the President's Commission on the Assassination of President Kennedy -- the Warren Report. A death gas in book form, the Report (more accurately titled the Dulles Report) attacked what wasn't destroyed of the American spirit by the Dealey Plaza gunmen of 11/22/63; and finished it off. The Report carried out its two functions superbly: 1) allowing Kennedy's murderers to go free and undetected; 2) making sure nothing public and governmental would ever be believed again, weakening public power and allowing private tyranny to take over all American life. A takeover now complete.

We turn again to documentarian Shane O'Sullivan. Here, O'Sullivan and researcher Douglas Horne expose the most gruesome element of the Warren/Dulles malignancy, the medical cover-up.

Sunday, September 20, 2020

Blood Brothers

On January 20th, 1961, twenty-seven-year-old James Meredith -- nine-year Air Force veteran who had completed two years at "coloreds only" Jackson State college, and inspired by the inauguration of a young American President who'd called that day for citizens to stand up for their rights (and to help each other) -- applied for admission to the public university of his home state: the University of Mississippi ~ "Ole Miss." Since Meredith was black, the application was necessary three times. Denied three times. Led and pushed by NAACP Mississippi Director Medgar Evers, suit was filed in US Fifth Circuit Court on Meredith's behalf, which found in June 1962 that James Meredith had been rejected "solely because he was a Negro." An appeal by Ole Miss to the United States Supreme Court was denied by Justice Hugo Black and Meredith was scheduled to enter the University for the fall term beginning 58 years ago this month.


Five years before, at Little Rock (Arkansas) Central High School, the protection and enrollment of nine black students into the previously all-white campus was commandeered by US Army Major General Edwin A. Walker. Two years later, in a moment of awesome revelation, Walker joined the newly formed John Birch Society and discovered that all civil rights actions were part of the Worldwide Communist Conspiracy. Seeing the light, Walker immediately submitted his military resignation to President Dwight Eisenhower -- refused. Instead, Ike ordered the General to take over the 24th Infantry Division, made up of over 10,000 US troops stationed in Augsburg, Germany. Walker immediately began to indoctrinate his men in the ways of Communism by labeling Harry Truman, Eleanor Roosevelt, Dean Acheson (and possibly Eisenhower himself) as "Reds." In April 1961, new Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara fired Walker and began a court-martial investigation against him. (Charges dropped.) Now a civilian, supported by Barry Goldwater and bankrolled by the H.L. Hunt oil family of Dallas, Walker announced his candidacy for the 1962 Texas Governor's race. (Won by John Connally.)

        
Throughout the summer of '62, the Justice Department under Attorney General Robert Kennedy was in negotiations with Mississippi Governor Ross Barnett to ensure the smooth and safe admission of James Meredith into Ole Miss. As the first day of school, September 20th, approached, agreement seemed to have been reached: Barnett would do what he needed to do politically -- make a paper tiger resistance to Meredith's admission, then -- given the Federal power at hand -- fold. Just in case, the Attorney General ordered first 100, then 600 Federal marshals to surround and protect Meredith. Thinking Meredith's admission into his dormitory was securely accomplished, President Kennedy went on the air.



The brothers were betrayed. As Kennedy spoke, the insurrection began, led by Walker. Governor Barnett made his own TV address, claiming Meredith had been sneaked in by helicopter without his knowledge. The three hundred local cops provided by Barnett for Meredith's safety disappeared into the night. The army of Federal marshals became surrounded by a mob of 3,000 seeking to take Meredith and lynch him. Carrying clubs, rocks, pipes, bricks, bottles, bats, firebombs -- and guns -- they attacked the marshals and whatever journalists they could find. The marshals responded with tear gas, but did not shoot back. The Kennedys ordered in the Mississippi National Guard. Rioting continued through the night. By morning, two were dead (one newsman) and over two hundred marshals and Guardsmen shot. Cars and buildings burned. A stolen fire engine and bulldozer each tried to knock over the walls of Meredith's "secret" dorm. And still Barnett failed to call back the disappeared state police force. What most enraged, and puzzled, the President and the Attorney General was the ass-dragging by their own United States Army, its strange failure to relieve Barnett's missing militia after many calls to do so. Why was the military being so unresponsive to the Commander-in-Chief? "Damn Army!" cursed JFK toward morning. "They can't even tell if the MPs have left yet. Where's the Army? Why haven't they left yet? Where are they?"



Hours had now passed since the President ordered the 503rd Military Police Battalion -- the Army's riot-control unit -- to move from Memphis to Oxford, Mississippi. Twenty phone calls from JFK to the unit commander failed to speed things up. The military was washing its hands of the Kennedys. It claimed to not know where to land its helicopters on the Ole Miss campus. So the President was forced to play air-traffic controller. He spoke directly to a sergeant on the ground to ensure there would be trucks available when the Police Battalion arrived. And it did arrive. Five hours late. Afterwards, Kennedy would demand an investigation of the timing of each call placed from the White House to the Pentagon, the time such orders were implemented, and an accounting for each minute in between -- causing a penultimate break between the President and his military leaders. (The final break would come several weeks later, during the Cuban Missile Crisis.) And once the flow of troops began, the Army ensured it would gush, a deliberate overkill: 25,000 men descended on the University. A number exceeding the troops dispatched by John F. Kennedy to Berlin, Cuba, Laos, South Vietnam, and Indonesia during his Presidency -- combined.


The mob was dispersed; the town was quieted; several hundred rioters were arrested. James Meredith was officially registered and began classes that week, starting his own, daily ordeal. He would graduate in August 1963, despite having to be escorted to and from class by a squad of marshals, his father's house being three times firebombed, and endless reprisals attempted against his family.

Due to his "leadership" during the battle, Edwin Walker was arrested on the orders of Robert Kennedy the morning after the riot. He was flown to a Missouri psychiatric prison, charged with sedition, rebellion, and insurrection. Claiming himself to be "America's first political prisoner," Walker was released one week later, with the charges again eventually dropped. In April '63, he was the target of an assassination attempt as he worked at home in his study. The rifle bullet exploded above his head as he reached down to pick up a fallen paper. The Warren Commission, in its Oswald framing frenzy, would claim that the shot was fired by Lee Harvey Oswald. (An idea pronounced "ridiculous" by Walker himself.) Mississippi NAACP Director Medgar Evers -- the man who drove James Meredith's court case all the way to the Supreme Court -- was assassinated before his family's home by a shot to the back, on June 12, 1963 -- the day after Kennedy's call for a "moral revolution" in the area of civil rights.



In June 1966, while leading the March Against Fear from Memphis to Jackson, Mississippi, James Meredith was shot from behind by a hidden sniper firing from some bushes.

Survived.

Tuesday, September 15, 2020

A Tale of Two Boo-Boos

Yogi and Boo-Boo Bear, fifty years ago.



From more recent times -- Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law.

Friday, September 11, 2020

Out!

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Maggie

In Centre Stage (1991), the greatest of all Hong Kong movies, Maggie Cheung plays herself, plays immortal silent-screen star Ruan Lingyu, and plays Ruan Lingyu playing various tragic heroines. Yet we are always watching Maggie. How could we not?


Centre Stage is one of the rare viewing experiences which restore and deepen one's love and understanding of movies. From a negative point-of-view, the film reminds us (by embodying a whole other approach) of the tawdriness and triviality of US movies and pop culture generally. What if this were an American movie about an American female icon (Monroe, Gloria Swanson, Margaret Sullavan, Joan Crawford, Judy Garland)? The character (and no doubt the approach taken by the woman playing the character) would be defined by whom she slept with, whom she didn't sleep with, what sort of drugs she took, how many times she beat up her kids, how many times she showed up drunk on the set. "Truth" defined as filth. Yet (of course) the movie would end with some sentiment telling us how terribly misunderstood the American legend was and how basically good she was. Most important, there would be no connections made between the woman, her life, and the power relations surrounding her.

Positively, Centre Stage is pure tenderness -- pure joy, heart, and magic. Cheung, one of the most beautiful women of her time, also happens to be one of the greatest movie actresses (the greatest?) of her time. Her look is always mesmerizing, but Centre Stage is another place entirely: the 1920s and early 30s visions she embodies as Ruan Lingyu make her unearthly -- director Stanley Kwan's desire: for Kwan defines Lingyu in purely spiritual terms -- as a great, beautiful soul: great because entirely moral: incapable of evil, or rudeness, or anything degrading of life: beauty outside because beauty inside. Kwan tethers physical beauty and grace to moral and spiritual grace. But of course it's as much Cheung as Kwan. Perhaps she is as strong a moral agent on set as was Cary Grant. Here, she makes the movie glow with holiness, she and Kwan rejecting postmodern morality, particularly as it applies to private life.



One of the most beautiful women of our time turns out to be one of the strongest movie forces for "goodness" in our time. Maggie Cheung is the anti-Madonna. (Or, actually, the true Madonna. . .)

Friday, September 4, 2020

Requiem for the Real

Looks like NBC has re-re-rebooted the vomit-inducing idea of a NEW "Rockford Files," formerly with some oatmeal face by the name of Dermot Mulroney, then with Hugo Boss model Josh Holloway, now with who knows?? Maybe Macaulay Culkin...

The real thing. One of the great episodes of this or any other TV series, "Requiem for a Funny Box."

Joe Santos, R.I.P.

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Honor Man


In 1961, Patrick McGoohan turned down the movie role of James Bond because he thought Ian Fleming was a "talentless smut peddler." Then recommended best friend Sean Connery for the part. In his own masterpiece John Drake series trilogy, a trilogy about the intelligence world of the 1960s -- Danger Man, Secret Agent, The Prisoner -- he refused to shoot and/or kiss anyone. He was born in Astoria, Queens to Irish immigrant parents, quickly moved as a toddler to Mullaghmore, Ireland -- then to Sheffield, England as a boy. Married actress Joan Drummond in his early 20s, wrote love notes to her every day, and stayed with Drummond until his death in 2009, at the age of 80.

Patrick McGoohan is my favorite TV actor -- no one else comes close: he's always the most intelligent, elegant, interesting, courageous, and thoughtful man in the room. And the least egotistical. Watch him here in a scene from "Identity Crisis," one of two Columbo appearances for which he won an Emmy. The great Peter Falk is closing in, suspecting that a man called "Steinmetz" is actually an invention, actually Patrick McGoohan himself -- the real murderer -- in disguise.



"The T-33. . . . Silver Star": the moment when McGoohan realizes he's done, that his protected life -- again here the life of a top intelligence agent -- is over, yet his voice and eyes become modest and respectful ("I'll get your coat"): the better man has won. McGoohan's devotion is never primarily to himself, but to something outside and higher.
*
Danger Man premiered in Britain in 1960 (with American financing), ran for 39 episodes at 26 minutes per, and -- in spite of its enormous popularity throughout Europe -- was canceled when the US financing dried up. McGoohan plays unarmed undercover agent John Drake, working at times for British intelligence, French intelligence, NATO, and CIA.

One of the first incarnation's earliest and best, "View from the Villa," from September 1960. (The villa's location, by the way, is Portmeiron, North Wales -- The Prisoner's goofball setting.) And as we can see, Mr. McGoohan was an amateur middleweight champion.



Drake would return three years later under the same series title in Britain, called Secret Agent everywhere else. The running time for each story was now doubled to 50 minutes (with many two-parters), but the most significant change would be Drake himself. Now more of a le Carré-type character -- sick of his "professionalism" and sick of what it is he's supposed to be protecting.

"You're Not in Any Trouble, Are You?" from October 1965 (with Susan Hampshire as the very fetching dish).



Then came The Prisoner. . .

For me, no. Despite McGoohan's elegance, fascinating confusion, and very good humor, watching it is like being forced to wear a Nehru jacket, listen to "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," watch Skidoo, and drink Tang all at the same time.

For a funny overview of every Prisoner episode, go here.


It is impossible to think of Patrick McGoohan without affection -- his ever-changing accents, his grace, his timing and nonchalance -- his wonderful pleasure in performance. His pride in craft. McGoohan embodies a vanished time when we had a more direct relationship to a performer. A generous-hearted actor (and man); a glamour without narcissism. He always seems to be in a blissful present, with an expression that says "You can’t imagine what it’s like being in this room and performing these words.”

Actually, watching him, we can.