Today Disney, Tomorrow Kundun

Culture war is a war on culture, part 602,230

Brothers and sisters, we have the groomer-pedos of Disney on the ropes! The coming red wave in the midterms will bring us new state legislature and Congressional majorities that will pass laws to punish the Mouse for its deviant homo-promo, not to mention its eco-fascism and the disgusting panda movie with which, like the pedo-groomers they are, Disney attempts to foist inappropriate sexed-up topics like menstruation upon girls who have barely reached puberty. (Liberals say the panda is only a “symbol” of menstruation but we hardened culture warriors know symbolism is just a limp-wristed stand-in for “sneaking filth into our young’uns culture-trough.”)

Speaking of arty-farty liberal culture-traitors, as much as we hate Disney, we cannot just focus our attacks on their deviant popular children’s entertainment; we must also put paid to the adult so-called “geniuses” of what the sissies call cinema. After all, they are how we got so much filth in our culture in the first place.

Once upon a time all movies that were shown on these shores were clean as a whistle and reflected proper two-fisted values. But after the Second World War liberals consciously polluted America with foreign filth such as atheism, existentialism, and espresso, and their secret weapon was what people used to call, with a wink and a leer, “foreign films.”

These movies were full of fancy narrative strategies — unreliable narrators and whatnot — but the big draw was sex: Italian and French (and, for connoisseurs of the exotic, Japanese) girls, often totally nude and in explicit situations. Local loafers didn’t take in 8 ½ to see Fellini’s celebration of the artist’s spirit; they went to see Anta Ekberg in a low-cut dress splashing in a fountain. Grandma and Grandpa knew it was smut but light-loafered critics called it art and their over-educated hippie children went for it, along with pot and the Black Panthers.

Ronald Reagan had to empty the treasury just to get those Boomers back on board. But now their grandkids are even more socialistic and there’s no money left to lure them back with. And while some of them are content with good old-fashioned rock-‘em sock-‘em super-hero movies, too many like to trade obscure film gifs on social media and talk about their favorite auteurs as if they were preachers or football players or other people worth of respect.

So we have to start going after these snooty cineastes, and a good place to start is with their biggest idol: Martin Scorsese.

Perhaps you only know Scorsese from gangster movies that excited you when you were young because of their clever and manly violence. But don’t kid yourself. Even those movies are meant as sneers against the American way of life. Did you notice there are no positive role models in Goodfellas and Casino? That’s no accident.

For me the penny dropped with The Wolf of Wall Street — energetic and funny, sure (and also obscene, but as a hardened culture warrior I’m able to block that out). But in the end you’d have to be an idiot to miss the point: Like the gangsters, Jordan Belfort is snooty Scorsese’s idea of an American success story — someone who gets ahead not despite his amorality, but because of it. It’s as if moral, play-by-the-rules business successes like Donald Trump and Elon Musk didn’t exist!

And when you get into Scorsese’s artier pictures, that’s where the cultural pollution real starts to stink. Take Taxi Driver, which most people only know from its catchphrases. It’s got a pedo subplot, and as we know anytime a liberal portrays underage sex it’s because he or she gets off on it. And while there’s a lot of guns and they’re cleverly used, you can’t really enjoy it because of the strong suggestion that the avenging cabbie Travis Bickle (played by a pre-Trump Derangement Syndrome Robert DeNiro) isn’t just wrong to use violence, but in fact mentally disturbed — even though he’s applauded by the press, his snooty ex-girlfriend, and the rescued girl’s parents. Tell that to Kyle Rittenhouse!

The rest of what the he-shes call Scorsese’s oeuvre is even worse. His movie about the Dalai Lama suggests that communism can be defeated with lovey-dovey Buddhism, when everyone knows force is the only language those people understand. Imagine watching a movie with major commie Mao Tse-Tung in it, and identifying more with Mao as a man of action than with the simp Lama! And when Scorsese makes movies about Christianity, he’s either blaspheming Jesus as a horny philosophy major or making Christians look like a bunch of suffering nellies.

I admit — I have to, because the woke mob has dredged up and doxxed my old writings — I used to admire Scorsese myself; I was dazzled by what I thought, in my ignorance, was his technical mastery and his “vision.” But having talked it over with Armond White, another former admirer who has renounced him for his inability to see the folly of his liberalism, I am forced to accept that I shamefully succumbed to the sin of aestheticism, and had forgotten the real magic of the movies: their ability to mold the masses into an ideological uniform movement. Join me at the barricades as we make Hollywood great again!