I’m going back to childhood on this one. Again. It seems that we all place things that we experience in reference to those formative years…no matter how old we are.
I remember the first Jerry Lewis/Dean Martin movie that I ever saw. I saw it at a drive-in in the company of an Aunt of mine. Drive-ins were where you went to see second-run movies, outside sitting in your car. Anyway, I think I must have been pretty young. I was eating my popcorn and taking laughing cues from my Aunt. She thought Lewis was hilarious. I would look at his inane antics on the screen that would only amuse a dull-witted infant…then look at my Aunt convulsing in laughter…then look back to the screen to make sure I hadn’t missed something that caused her so much mirth. I preferred the parts where Dino sang.
These were the early years of jewish “entitlement” in the media. Before then, especially dealing with humor, the general public was not subjected heavily to jewish humor. The lowest form of the artform. It seemed then to me, and does even more so now, to be based in the basest form of comedy. They were just, in these days of Jerry Lewis, Milton Berle and Jack Benny, beginning to encroach in this arena of the media, where Gentiles had dominated before. Replacing wit with simplistic, often off-color jokes aimed at the lowest I.Q. in the audience. It worked. Of course then came the obviously jewish saturation of dramatic film roles which lowered the standards in that arena as well. As we see in this screen test of James Dean barely edging out a young Paul Newman for a role in “East of Eden”(no, I don’t think Newman had anything to do with Dean’s eventual demise…just an example-grin).
I made the mistake yesterday of being coaxed into watching a professional basketball semi-final game at a friend’s house. I hadn’t actually watched commercial television for a hell of a long time(outside that annoying flickering at the tops of restaurant walls, where the eatery’s designers assume that their patrons are going to have some kind of electronic-disconnect-seizure if they don’t keep these talmud-vision screens on during business hours). I never look at those screens when I go to such places of business…as a matter of fact…I have a little key-chain device with which I can, and do, surreptitiously turn them off, to the bewilderment of the staff. But I relented and watched or rather endured this broadcast and my blood-pressure has yet to return to normal.
The game itself was fun to watch. The commercials that took up more screen-time than the game, were…I dunno…maddening, disgusting, obvious, childish, transparent, annoying, nauseating, violent, patronizing, lying, loud…I guess the all-inclusive adjective that I am grasping for here is…”jewish”. Totally jewish.
How do you people endure this shit for 153 hours a month? And probably more importantly…why? It leaves me almost speechless to think that humans can voluntarily beam this horseshit into their HOMES. Does the average person ever think about what can be done constructively with 153 hours a month? Hell…just think of the extra sleep you could get…if nothing else.
So I am looking at my friend during this electronic-yiddish-money-changing spectacle…and I am looking back at the screen…thinking I missed something that would mesmerize me too. And I laughed.
He says, “what?”. I said “they must use special lenses to keep all those huge noses in frame”. He says, “huh?”. I says, “forget it”.
The point is…they don’t get it. Those that endure this crap. The fried-chicken commercials aimed at blacks. The bank/mortgage commercials aimed at the mentally challenged. All the happy minorities…happy to live in amerika and happy to buy all this shit…and ALWAYS..the curly-headed huge-nosed jew in the picture. And I mean always. Their reminder, albeit subtle at times…that they own this medium. They own these corporations. And they own your living-room. They own you. Shut up and watch the CG commercials and learn. Learn on a very sub-harmonic level. While attempting to continue the ball-oriented conversation with my friend during these commercials, I felt as if I was interloping on some sort of religious communion between he and the screen. He would say “yeah…I guess” a lot as his eyes were transfixed on the screen. Only when they had momentarily released his attention to get back to the game, did I recognize this guy.
“Spooky” is not the word. “Frightening” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I would suggest putting a mirror next to the screen so these people could see how trance-like they are during these divine moments of electronic commerce…but they wouldn’t be able to look at it, when mammon commands their eyes. I left his house in a different type of stupor. One of realizing how far this has come since Jerry Lewis put my Aunt into fits of laughter. This is scary shit.
So go ahead. Keep your tv on 153 hours a month. I understand it a little better now. You can’t not watch it. You can’t turn it off and throw it in the shit-can. It is a religion. Worship. Buy a kippa and wear it while you worship. It will be more fitting.
My cause against this electronic hold that the jewish has on you was defeated long ago. Probably not long after the original Rebel was silenced. Oh well.