Radical Farce
In the comments following this, on the proposed reality show Zoe Meets The Murgatroyds, Nikw211 replied,
Among the gems to savour are the endless factional disputes over exactly how capitalism should be toppled, feats of farcical mismanagement, an earnest exposition on “penile imperialism,” and interviews with former self-styled radicals, now sitting by private swimming pools, fretting about fridge ownership, or planning to work on llama farms.
For those with an interest in history, or indeed obliviousness, the three episodes are linked below.
The questionable pleasures of communal living. Specifically, a squatted street in Brixton. Contains scenes of waiting for utopia to materialise. And biohazard crockery. Oh, and the primal screaming commune at number 12.
In which, we’re told that lesbianism is an ideological duty, and that any woman can be a lesbian if she just tries hard enough, is mentored, and embraces the right kind of politics. A claim that has a somewhat self-serving quality, given the people making it.
The tale of a bewilderingly inept attempt in 1987 to launch a radical left wing tabloid, fuelled by the fever-dreams of Cambridge Marxists. The project was, unsurprisingly, a disaster, with its failure a direct result of ideological pretension. As illustrated by the scene in which, with the paper’s first edition about to go to press, most of the staff is out of the office on a deafness awareness day.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
@pst314,
Do you really want to accept that the curated papers of authors represent “what they thought”?
I’d point out that Virginia Heinlein had a vested interest in ensuring that her husband’s papers and ephemera were consistent with that which his audience perceived of him and his work. If he had any secret thoughts contrary to any of that, she had ample opportunity to “correct” that.
Same with Nietzsche; his sister had control over his posthumous papers, and per the reports, spent considerable time making sure that his “carpet matched the drapes”, ideologically speaking.
I will continue to assert that the words don’t count nearly as much as the actions. You have all sorts of examples from history; how many casual revolutionaries have recanted of their viciousness, when confronted with the opportunity to live those words out in real life? It is all very well to say you’ll die nobly, but when push comes to shove, the actual demonstrated article is almost always contrary to the noble word made under easy circumstances…
Again, Heinlein wrote a lot of sexual licentiousness into his later works; in his actual personal life, however? There weren’t any “hot and cold running secretaries” such as those seen with his character Jubal Harshaw.
Oh dear God. Sweet Lord.
(1) I was not referring only to the Heinlein estate’s archives. I was also and especially referring to what those who knew him reported on their own.
(2) I have previously commented on Heinlein’s disturbing sexual themes, but have noted that there is little record of his actually engaging in the activities he wrote about. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone wrote approvingly of things that he never himself did–and in fact I have known libertarians who supported all sorts of libertine behavior on libertarian grounds while themselves not doing anything of the sort.
(3) But regarding point (2), who knows? Who cares? Talking about Heinlein and sex gets boring. My comment was about various writers opinions about various things.
(4) To reiterate, I had very much in mind what has been reported by people who knew various authors. After all, as you yourself will have to admit, it’s very difficult for anyone to conceal their true feelings from everyone they know, and even the most private people have inner circles with whom they speak frankly.
“Don’t forget Heinlein, along with other science fiction writers, worked on projects for the government during WWII.” Specifically, Isaac Asimov and L. Sprague deCamp. And if that isn’t a setup for a sitcom, I don’t know what is. (Several episodes of which I wrote. My head writer eventually convinced me it was futile, as no one in our usual audience even knew who these people were.