Zenny Meditates on the Cult Film
Mar 09 '01
The Bottom Line There is nothing - just images on a screen. We are hungry for cult - and if we don't have it, we shall perish. Down into the dust.
The cult film is outside the realm of critical thought, striking a nerve beyond the banal reaches of the status quo, the mainstream, the falcons and doggers of consumer culture. It is a political blow against those who would settle for a cheeseburger and fries, pre-packaged and lit by the numbing glow of neon. In their madness, cult filmmakers reach beyond the norm, surpassing the epic achievements of the coffee drinkers. There is no room for coffee in cult - only mud! Death, degredation, despair - films for the despondent. For "D" (as these are all "D" words) follows "C" just as Jodorowsky follows the dream cycle, Brackhage follows the internal nebuli, Beth B follows the libertine feminist angry grrl ferocious d. Can "cult" be so easily classified? No, it cannot, because it touches a nerve within the individual, telling a million different stories within the city of conscious thought. Take no prisoners. There will be no more marriages. There will be only the power and the glory of images flickering across a screen, each screaming and shrieking with the torments of the suffering of the prayers of the scathings of the damned.
Where are we? Who are we now? Those milestones scraping the inner layer of the subconscious subculture will be tales told through the depths of the dusk of time. That is the nature of cult. We are among you. We are the transgressors. Exterminate all vermin. Eggy-weggy, anyone?
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