It Will Take More Than a Movie

by N.B. Forrest

6 January 2005

[From Instauration, December 1996]

Just went out and saw the latest issue of mental Drano from Hollywood. Called "Independence Day," it is a science fiction tale saved from B-grade status only by its incredibly lavish and expensive special effects. Simply put, a gigantic alien spaceship arrives from nowhere and squirts out a whole host of smaller spaceships that take up menacing positions over the major cities of the world. I say "smaller spaceships," though each is supposed to be about 15 miles across. The mother ships is about 1/4 the size of the moon.

Crowds of human morons stand around gaping at the titanic intergalactic reverse Welcome Wagons and their mucus-ridden crews, who are licking their chops over our verdant planet, soon to be their planet. (Even a network news anchor or a major league ball player ought to be able to figure out that these space boogers did not fly across a billion light years to borrow a cup of sugar.)

The movie itself is meaningless mind candy, as fluffy, corny and cliché-soaked as Hollywood can confect. The more mature men in the audience could be seen squirming in their seats as one stock character after another floated across the screen. The geek who played the Yiddish father of Jeff Goldblum, the Jewish hero, should be the object of a nationwide pogrom. The rest of the cast was so-so.

For all that, the movie has value for what it says about what is happening to the country. Independence Day is proof, if any is needed, that we are on a terminal course with disaster. Under the circumstances, an invasion by foul-smelling, murderous monsters from the great beyond might be a merciful end. Better to go out with a bang than with a century of wailing, gnashing of teeth, rending of garments and complaints about bowel disorders.

In addition to the usual Jewish obsessions, now de rigueuer in all major films, the movie positively wallows in ethnic diversity. The other hero in the movie is a Negro Marine Corps fighter pilot. Now there are certainly blacks in the Marine corps and probably a few fly jet fighters, but I have never seen any U.S. military fighter squadron staffed by a gang that looks like it was bundled straight out of a South Bronx holding cell. The Negro hero was not even a squared-away mulatto. He looked like the hubcap wiper at the local car wash. As this is an updated family movie, the best buddy of the Negro is a white man. You can't lay it on too thick in Tinseltown. In a surprising bow to reality, the girlfriend of the Negro pilot is a black stripper. In a tear-jerking aside, the balck believes that his childhood dream of being an astronaut will be shattered if his superiors learn that he is engaged to a quasi prostitute. Life is unfair.

The U.S. president is a handsome, square-jawed Nordic, demonstrating that the old esthetic prop still works from time to time. It goes without saying that he is a liberal nitwit surrounded by evil conservative advisers. What else would you expect?

The aliens are planning to vaporize every major city on the planet and then finish off whoever is left, presumably by laying out people traps baited with Cheese Whiz and Bud Light. The thrust of the script is that this invasion from outer space will make us all see that, hey, we're not that much different. We can all get along! After all, who would you rather have a beer with? O.J. Simpson, Willie Horton, or a six-armed bubble-headed freak oozing poison goo and aiming a death ray at your hometown? Yes sir, we are all Americans. Every white man, every Negro, every water-logged Haitian, every Hmong, every Sudanese basketball player, every Nigerian con-artist, every lesbian mud wrestler, every pedophile doing ten to twenty, every....You get the picture.

Our heroic president rallies everybody for one all-or-nothing go at the space invaders. In the end, brilliant work by the Jew and the Negro ensure total victory for humankind. The most dramatic moment comes when a drunken former white Navy fighter pilot, demoted to incompetent crop duster, pulls a kamikaze number with his warplane, driving it literally into the belly of the beast.

I have seen interviews with people who claimed that the movie was "patriotic" and made you "feel good about America." Hand me my barf bag. Anybody who could digest the heavy-handed Semitic crud that lays like a mantle of manure over the film is past all human help.

In one sense it may be a good thing that this kind of desperate shlock is being produced. We all know what is coming in the dear old U.S. This movie is a pointed reminder that "they" all know it too. Hoping against hope for something to save them from the coming explosion, Hollywoodians are putting their faith in beings from out there to distract us from our earth-bound enemies. It will take more than a phony film, however, to pull the wool over our eyes.


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