Being the continuation of InstaPunk and InstaPunk Rules
A Mission from Gahd
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
If you were to wake me at 3 am and ask, Who’s the star of the Blues Brothers
movie?, I’d say “It’s the Bluesmobile.” It’s 3 am in the morning now.
Years ago I made up a list of the best American movies about America and ran it as a series on the original Instapunk website. I subsequently published it in 2018 as a Kindle book under an assumed name, because I didn’t want people to pass it up on the basis of their prejudices against me and my abrasive approach to things. It’s still available at Amazon.
Illustrated and with a provocative concluding essay about Stephen Spielberg.
It’s a good book and I recommend it. At about a hundred pages covering 35+ great movies for five bucks, it’s a cost-effective antidote for the dreck that’s being made and shown on the streaming services these days. One problem that’s been bothering me the past few days, though, is that it’s missing one very important milestone in American cinema. One that’s grown steadily in relevance as we have stumbled further down the ladder of culture in terms of shared values and flat-out fun. I’m referring, of course, to The Blues Brothers, the original one and only mini-masterpiece comprising much of what used to be great about us as a people back in 1980. Here’s a trailer to remind those who saw it long ago and any who somehow happened to miss it.
More than 300 cars destroyed in the making of it.
Here’s the descriptive blurb from IMDb.com:
What’s so great about it? Written by Dan Aykroyd and John Landis, directed by Landis, it has an all-star cast unmatched by any other film in its broad representation of the American population, including even some of the good Canadians and one waif-like Brit. Take a gander: John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, James Brown, Cab Calloway, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, Carrie Fisher, John Candy, Henry Gibson, Twiggy, John Lee Hooker, Paul Reubens, Kathleen Freeman, Steve Lawrence, Frank Oz, Charles Napier, John Landis, and a whole bunch of other musicians and American music. Nobody’s there to fill a diversity quota or to make a social or political point, even though Jake and Elwood are Catholic (lapsed?) orphans, and their friends in the music business are mostly black and far from rich. There’s a Nazi in the plot too, but remembering this was part of why I realized BB was presently relevant in a way you have to see to understand. The Nazis, played by Henry Gibson and uniformed walk-ons, are purely comic figures, reduced as they should be to the flat absurdity of their obsolete symbolism and insane reason for being. They are not killed by the Blues Brothers they so want to kill but by their own mad stupidity. Their eventual death is a joke, and a funny, relevant one at that in light of the angry ones who are so obsessed by Hitler right now as an epithet for their enemies while wholeheartedly embracing his darkest legacy.
Cop acceleration, cop brakes, and cop shock absorbers. Mopar!
The movie is simply about being funny and musically entertaining(!), mildly satirical but not disrespectful in its use of the Brothers’ “Mission from Gahd” as a completely understandable expression of filial piety acquired despite early privation. The Mission carried no baggage of controversy in 1980 and shouldn’t now. In fact, it’s still charming because in the 1980 context it needs no sententious explanations. It just is, like the Brothers and all their friends, good at heart but more than a little clumsy in terms of accomplishing the goal.
A lot of comedies don’t survive time on the shelf. They come to seem forced, too manufactured, dated out of the movie canon. But here everyone seems to be having a good time, and we can still have a good time with them. Notably, Aykroyd and Landis in their filmed recollections about the making of it admit that everyone got so caught up in the project that they sort of lost their heads in the production of the great chase scene that forms the movie’s climax. The budge ballooned as they shut down Chicago streets and filled them with wrecked old cop cars bought at auction. In fact, the only really sad moment in the picture is the death scene of the Brothers’ Dodge 440 Bluesmobile, which falls completely apart on the pavement after the chase has been won. On the tiop floor, we finally meet the government Jake and Elwood have labored so hard to reach. Not there to help unless and until citizens demand it. Then the police arrest our good guys and we can all go to prison for our Christian virtue. Or something like that. (Nah. It’s just a great punchline to have the last musical number behind bars…)
The best way to detect the profound change in cultural context the nation has endured from then to now is to think of all the things that would be done differently now if they could done at all and if they wouldn’t automatically be twisted into some kind of Social Justice ‘point’ with a capital P. You can find your own examples if you watch, which can do at Netflix (for free I think) or at Amazon Prime for less than $4. I’ll give you the one scene that seems funniest in this respect because the mind boggles at what today’s writers and directors would do with the ‘Rawhide’ scene in terms of pillorying the irredeemable MAGA louts who, by sheer coincidence, are happily played here by their real life counterparts.
Can’t you see the MAGA hats and the obligatory scatological name-dropping?
One thing you’ll take away from this movie for sure is a wistful memory of a time when one-liners were witty, funny, and unforgettable. My own favorite is Jake’s response to the hair-raising audition Elwood gave him of the battered old Dodge’s street performance after his ex-con brother dissed it by throwing the lighter out the window. When they came to a screeching halt after the kind of power play I remembered from my own battered 440 V-8, Jake just stared straight ahead and said, “Get the lighter fixed.”
Maybe The Blues Brothers can still do that little chore for all of us.
Just how long has it been since SNL was funny? 1980 was nearly 50 years ago.
This post was last updated at 12:00 PM., Thursday, November 6. Latest entries are “The Blobfish Boomlet,” “Is there a curse in New York City,” and “A Big Missing Piece.” The Instapunk Times is hot of the presses [ NOV 6 STRIKE ISSUE! ] Undernet Black was updated November 6. This will be a pinned post in perpetuity, but it will be updated continuously, just like all of our lives. The title — “My World and Welcome to It” — is stolen happily from James Thurber, who is known as a humorist, unabashedly untrained cartoonist, and dog lover. He was also subject to melancholy, a drinker of note, and something of an outsider (in his own damaged eyes at least) as an Ohioan, born and educated, who became a fixture in the glamorous Algonquin Roundtable of Manhattan writers and playwrights. I can relate to all of that but the fame and the lifelong journey to blindness. I believe he was likely the best writer of the gang that gathered in the Algonquin Hotel in the 1930s, and ...
Click the graphic above to watch the Rumble video Why this post? The last 48 hours or so have defined the beginning of a new phase in the adventure of Trump 2.0. Phase 1 was fixing the border, addressing the hot wars in foreign climes, and launching a new trade strategy based on tariffs. Phase 2 was not a restart but a new layer, the beginning of calling the criminals of Trump 1.0 to account, ramping up the deportation campaign in Sanctuary locations, and fighting back against the locally based judicial insurrection against the 2024 election of Trump and his Americans First policies. Phase 3 is another new layer, the immediate aftermath of the death of the Democrat Party in last night’s election results. I’m calling it the Blobfish Boomlet, because the outstanding feature of the Blobfish is that it is ugly and shapeless, flaccid inertness disguising itself with inflated media presence. Pundits insist we are looking at an ideological divide, a collision between two diametric...
I’ll be quoting directly in chunks here, so there can be no claim that I am cherry-picking facts, situations, narratives, or contexts. It’s an old subject for me, as you’ll see, but I’m writing now because my wife gave me a hard time about surfacing the racial issues surrounding the mass shooting at Lincoln University, which I raised because she told me the report she’s read did not include the fact that Lincoln is one of the surviving Historically Black Colleges. This is important because the mass media are fastidious about concealing pertinent information about the identities of both shooters and victims these days. She suggested I was dragging race into a sad crime story. Then she left the room. As I expect many of you would too. We’ve been well trained not to see this particular elephant in the room. Or at least not to discuss it. Here’s the NBC account: One person is dead and at least six others were wounded in a shooting amid homecoming festivities Saturday night at Lincoln Unive...
It’s Halloween! The funnest day of all for a certain sort of dreadly person. The music is just to set the mood. Feel free to come back to it in between the videos below. We’re all about masks today, and looking underneath them to see what’s going on with the elite saviors we’re depending on. Take a look and have some fun yourselves. Predicted this predatory new strategy back in February 2021 The Trump comeback victory in 2024 flattened the exhausted patriarchy of the Democrat leadership. Young eunuchs seeking to replace the Bidens and Schumers and Durbins are out of luck, whether they know it or not. Schiff, Buttigieg, Jeffries, Walz, Booker, and the fashion mannequin Newsom are doing nothing but give the male sex an even worse image than it already had. He’s slim and lithe enough. Just not us enough. Who’s left? What’s left of the old matriarchy reluctantly giving way to the new blood, which is raising the pitch of the public debate to ear-shattering levels. Sad to see pioneers ...
The island of Manhattan once belonged to the Lenape people, like a lot of NY and NJ. Just asking the question. Because there is historical background, evidence, And repeated rumblings from our Jungian subconscious that’s afflicted with uncannily relevant visions. Writers used to be solemnly warned that “to be universal, you must first be local.” Why my explanation of a possible curse on the Big Apple will actually begin a two-hour bus ride to the south of the Holland Tunnel. Which is not mentioned by accident. The fingerprints of the Dutch are all over the origins of this story. The place down south of NYC is Salem County, New Jersey, which had a very special relationship with the Lenape people: The Salem Oak Tree was the real center of the county seat of Salem, where I grew up. It was so old and huge that its massive trunk had lower limbs that were the size of mighty oak trees themselves. The tree was already a landmark in 1675 when the treaty was signed under it. The Quak...
They make fun of Trump’s ability in racket sports. What he’s been playing in the Israel-Hamas and Russia-Ukraine wars in his second term. We explain. There’s a mass of loud keyboardists outside the beltway who develop and fanatically promote their own memes about the President of the United States. The recent news that Trump had had his second physical at Walter Reed fueled an immediate leap to the conclusion that he was at death’s door. People who had trouble spelling ( congenitive heart defect) were busy diagnosing presidential health with the expertise they’d already demonstrated by refusing to believe that there was anything physically or mentally impaired about the 80+ year old Biden. According to a flurry of breathlessly repeated inferences from brief mass media summaries of the Reed checkup and flu/COVID boosters, Trump was suffering from the results of a stroke, a serious blood disorder that was causing red blotches on his hands, and the penalty of a long lif...
Not quite true… Not quite true that I don’t care about you. Don’t care about whatever judgments you lay on me, but that’s different. Also not quite true that the big piece I’m referring to in the title is missing. It’s all there, more or less intact, but it’s missing to me. Why Facebook wants to sell it to me for just under $3,000. I’m not bitching about that. It’s the contract we accept when we join the network. Frustrated? Yeah. That’s the right word. Here at IPR, I refer to Facebook as something else I do in addition to this and my other website projects. Since 2019 (with one petulant year off), I have added posts here pretty steadily. They now add up to just under 700 posts in total. At an average of 1,500 words, that amounts to more than a million words of text and who knows how many graphics. At 400 words per printed page, excluding graphics, that’s about 2,800 pages. That’s a lot. I’ve never been able to guesstimate much hard data about Facebook. A little over 10 years of postin...
Yeah, I did that. Am I fair? I’m principally a thinker and writer, which often but not always go together. As a thinker I use writing as a tool for thinking, because writing forces you to deal with matters of order, precision, logic, and moral context in testing your thinking. If you can’t write a thought down and agree with what you’ve written, you haven’t thought it through. I tend to be, try to be, fair in that process. But being a writer also offers the opportunity to go the next step beyond documentation. Because much of what I think is not popular, generally accepted in its positions, or understood by undisciplined minds, I also tend to create a kind of commentary called satire. Satire is inherently UN fair, in that it is meant to provoke readers to do their own thinking when they are angered or offended by a satirical provocation. For those who are inclined to agree with the unfairness, there is the collateral benefit of laughter. Funny requires no justification. It just is...
It could go a bunch of different ways. It could be signs and quiet crowds like the big Tea Party rallies It could be dominated by the womyns. On Instagram and X they seem the maddest. It could be clashes between protesters and law enforcement officers. Scuffles but non-lethal. It could be full-boat Antifa with violent intent. It could be hellfire, like the George Floyd riots. It could be Robert de Niro and a few of his very cross elderly friends and admirers. What do YOU think? Which is also important in and of itself. Investigating your own predictive imagination in this might be a helpful exercise in determining just how big a threat we are facing from the Deep State. I don’t know what’s going to happen. All I can do is share with you the factors I regard as the most telling. How they all shake out or come together is a mystery that can only be answered in the unfolding of events. But here’s what I think... The mass media want a giant national day of angry protest against the Tr...
Her name is Rachel Gilman. I’m sure she’s a pleasant lady in person. Before we get into the nitty gritty, please take a closer look at the graphic in the lower right hand corner of the image above. This could be the most gruesome desecration of the American flag I’ve seen. It demonstrates the scare tactic of the coat-hanger abortion to a fare-thee-well. 300 deaths a year may be a sad statistic, but it is not a civilizational catastrophe. We stopped counting abortions many years ago. The numbers you see quoted are all guesstimates, riddled with acknowledged gaps smoothed over by minimizing assumptions to conceal the enormity of legalized deaths that occurred under Roe v. Wade. Numbers in our biggest cities are terrifying when considered by racial breakdown. In NYC, nearly half of all black pregnancies end in abortion. That’s eugenics-level population control. Why Planned Parenthood is so embarrassed about admitting the eugenic philosophy of their patron Saint, Ma...
Comments