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Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Disease and prophecy



1.

In the latter half of Eyes Wide Shut Bill returns to Domino's apartment. On the wall in the lobby area is a "for sale" sign with the name "Keith Haring" in all-caps. 

 


Keith Haring is the name of a New York City-based artist whose rise to fame in the 1980s was cut short by his death from HIV/AIDS. I realize this detail has been noted before, so I'll try to shed light on other less-touched-upon connections in relation to it.














Haring enjoyed acquaintanceships with Basquiat, Warhol, and countless other esteemed artists and counter-cultural figures, and was an advocate for gay rights. Some of Haring's inspirations include Dr. Seuss and Walt Disney cartoons, pop art, and graffiti. He was 31 when he died in 1990 from complications from HIV/AIDS. "31" may be the first obvious connection less talked about: it is a visual mirror of "13." 


https://culturacolectiva.com/art/keith-haring-paintings-art-nyc



This crafted sign is a subtle but literal, tongue-in-cheek example of "writing on the wall" that Bill is (tragically) unable to see. Haring, as a symbol, foreshadows the next scene: Domino is gone, but Sally, her roommate, is home. This reversal from the first visit, when Domino is home and Sally is away, might suggest the difference between Domino and Sally. The Introducing Sociology textbook seen on the dresser below the mirror when Bill answers Alice's phone call might point to Domino or Sally's status as a student. I think it also points to the tense relation between Bill and Alice. Bill is obviously hiding things from Alice, and we almost suspect that Alice knows it. 

Sally appears younger, maybe more studious, in comparison to Domino. But, both are smart and careful. Sally seems to be assuming that Bill and Domino had relations, and she holds back. She turns down Bill's flirtatious advances, explaining that Domino has tested HIV positive. The diagnosis foreshadows the newspaper line "Lucky to be alive," as in, HIV is the harbinger of death, and Bill has managed to evade it. Luckily. The smile on Bill's face when he speaks with Sally is disturbing - unlike Domino who relies on sex for an income, Bill dabbles freely in prostitution but escapes unscathed. 

Bill didn't anticipate Domino's absence, or her disease. But again, the layers: Domino's unfortunate absence is a suggestion of her looming death, if not a literal placement of death-as-human-absence. Also, Domino's salacious presence earlier in the film can actually signal Bill's descent towards the nadir that is Somerton at the half-way point of the film. It has been noted that there are no Christmas trees or decorations at the mansion. Many of the Christmas lights being multi-colored, resembling a rainbow, it could be suggested that Somerton is "where the rainbow ends," i.e., the supposed place where Nuala and Gayle want to take Bill at Victor's annual ball. Bill is hesitant, saying it "depends where that is." Nuala and Gayle press on, saying "let's find out." Bill exercises caution then, but later, with Nick, he exercises no caution. Even when it is a man, and not two women, who is luring him. This just goes into another thesis about the representation of women and how Bill's pursuit stems more from a masculine(?) drive to prove himself than from a feminine drive for pleasure. The women at Somerton are obviously stripped of personality and authentic being, reduced to idols or objects. The irony being that the many female roles are deeply personable, authentic, and seemingly a threat to Bill's masculinity: Alice and daughter Helena - Bill has no sons and apparently no doctor buddies. Nick says he's married with four boys - five men and one woman suggests a more masculine identity. Ziegler is married but obviously a philanderer whose masculine identity exists only through his wealth. He wouldn't personally lay a hand on Bill, but his secret guards might. 

Anyways, speaking of guards, one of Victor's guards interrupts Bill's conversation with the two models, leading Bill up the twisting staircase. The fact that Mandy appears in the next scene might suggest that Somerton is indeed where Nuala and Gayle want to take Bill, since Mandy will also be there. Ziegler's bathroom, if I recall, is not festive - it is cold and echoey. 

Domino has been discarded along the way, just like Mandy Curran and Nick Nightingale. Regarding Nick, one very overlooked deception occurs when an unnamed masked guard at Somerton alerts Bill that his taxi driver wants a word with him. The two begin walking, but the camera cuts to a different guard leading blindfolded Nick Nightingale through a ballroom with partially-clothed couples dancing, and down a corridor. The camera cuts back to the Bill and the other guard, who arrive not at the "door," but back in the great hall, where Red Cloak and the masked attendees/observers are assembled, just like when Bill first entered, except that there is no music or obvious "ritual," and they are specifically awaiting his arrival. Although it could be argued that Bill's unmasking is a ritual in itself of which he is not aware. This may be a ritual of humiliation. There's something medieval and sinister about Bill's "trial" and eventual unmasking. The crowds whisper violently, like a theater audience, as the trial proceeds. 

We don't see Nick seated at his keyboard back in the apse, so it seems Ligeti's theme is non-diegetic. The music is imaginary, perhaps playing in Bill's mind. This is somewhat interesting given that Pook's "Masked Ball" feels entirely non-diegetic, meaning, overlaid upon the film, and not coming from within the film itself. But, we see Nick, and take it that he is maybe playing along to a pre-recorded track. This feels cheap and phony, but it's certainly realistic. On the other hand, Ligeti's theme music is so subtle and fitting that it functions as a character in itself. I've often read it as the presence of fear, suspense, panic, or anxiety. The notes also mimic the stalker's footsteps when he follows Bill. So, the music, again, is a presence, like the sound of footsteps which insinuate a character. Ligeti's theme may even point to Nick's exit from Somerton, in which he, the piano player, is being followed out of the mansion - footsteps. 

2. 

Though effective treatments for HIV/AIDS were discovered in the late 1990s, the epidemic had been politicized for nearly two decades prior, causing widespread public panic. The word "paranoia" could also be used in place of "panic:" though the disease disproportionately affected (and affects) homosexual men, sex workers, and heroin abusers, key aspects of detection and prevention were thwarted on behalf of AIDS activists who lobbied to prevent the FDA from approving a home-use HIV test. HIV/AIDS testing had become politicized - a result of identity politics and fear - leading to it's stigmatization, while condoms were hailed as a new cure-all. In the defense of sufferers, however, involuntary quarantine was seen as a possible threat with draconian undertones: deportation, indefinite isolation, and in effect, imprisonment, all seemed to be on the table. Fear of the consequences of being infected accelerated the fear of being tested. In fact, Communist Cuba enacted a forced quarantine of all HIV/AIDS sufferers that lasted at least eight years, or until the USSR dissolved along with its Cuba funds. Supposedly, this wasn't the full extent of terror: the totalitarian Cuban government targeted "effeminate" men, and those suspected of being homosexual, and deported them to labor camps against their will. Strangely, or not, it was not until 2012 that the ban on home-HIV tests was dropped in the US. Many lives could have been saved, and lifespans extended. 

After Bill leaves Sally's apartment, he realizes he is being followed by the bald man in the tan coat. It has been noted that the same man - or his double - appears earlier in the film, at a table right-front of stage at the Sonata Cafe where Nick Nightingale is playing. Here's a problem: if the spy is at the Sonata Cafe long before Bill makes the potentially-fatal error of appearing at Somerton, is the bald man's presence considered fate or chance? At a symbolic level, the spy and spied-upon being in the same place suggests foreshadowing. Bill is seated higher than the spy, suggesting that Bill is the one in a position to spy on others. His appearance at the Sonata is in itself a suggestion that he is spying on his old friend, Nick. And certainly, Bill overtly peeks at a secret password intended only for Nick and other invited party-goers. Regardless, Bill is not the greatest spy.




















It could be that the spy has been sent to follow Bill before Bill makes his clumsy appearance at Somerton. Why? Victor admits he had Bill followed, but he doesn't say when he gave this order. He says he had Bill followed after admitting he knew he showed up at Nick's hotel. Victor certainly seems to have an issue with Nick Nightingale - he calls him a "prick" and "cocksucker." It seems likely the stalker was also tracking Nick's movements. It could be that Victor's private intelligence had been given the go ahead to follow Bill once he approached Nick at Ziegler's party. Their short conversation is interrupted by a bodyguard who leads Nick away. Bill is interrupted twice at Ziegler's party, and at least two times at Somerton (the Columbus-masked man, and the guard). It could be a sort of contractual arrangement between Nick and Victor which prohibits Nick from conversing or socializing. Later, at the Sonata, Nick says to Bill, "I just play the piano," when referring to the secret performance. Indeed, this could indicate that the spy is primarily watching Nick, not Bill. Perhaps, when Nick walks away at Ziegler's party, he confesses to Victor and his personal KGB what he and Bill discussed. Of course, maybe Ziegler made a phone call first thing upon learning Bill was at Somerton - send a guy out and watch his movements as he leaves the mansion. This is believable enough and leads us back to the idea that the spy was following Nick, initially. 

The notion of the "panopticon" comes into play, as does the connotation of the Stasi or KGB (Soviet secret police). Bill is virtually imprisoned by Ziegler's omnipresence (like HAL). The simplest reading is that Bill is being watched in the beginning, and at the end - he is always being watched. I also read this is a way of hinting at another duality: heaven and earth. The camera on the gates of Somerton (hell) is high above Bill but represents something very sinister and dark. 

Maybe the spy is watching Nick, or maybe he's watching Bill, too. If Bill is paranoid, imagine Victor's evil reality - he can't trust his friends, his pianist, or himself. For example, when Bill enters the bathroom, he is confident and cool. Victor is the one who looks nervous and fearful ("scared child" before the painting of the pregnant woman). By the end, the tables have turned, and Bill is doubtful, while Ziegler is in charge. 


3. 

I wanted to keep this post short, but I find Eyes Wide Shut far too fascinating to attempt to gloss over. One very unsettling but seemingly innocuous fact is that Bill's long night of adventures (or misadventures) rests on the assumption that he is at the Nathanson apartment until four in the morning. 
Is it possible that Alice knows about the blonde Marion Nathanson, the daughter of Bill's elderly patient? The more unsettling thing is that by the time Bill gets home and discovers Alice laughing violently in her sleep, he maybe realizes that he hasn't fooled her. Of course, she is laughing at Bill in her dream, but the situation is different. If Bill doesn't realize she's asleep, then it seems Alice is laughing at his attempts not only to fabricate a story, but to pursue infidelities. Again, it seems Alice is not fooled by his story, nor by any suggestion that he has truly achieved any infidelities. This, in a moment, crystallizes the idea of Bill's emasculation. Even if he could have an affair, which he can, he can't commit to the act. There's a cruelty there that Alice seems to be more familiar with, and which Bill is more afraid of. 

We see this in Alice's dream: the orgy she describes mirrors what Bill has just witnessed at the mansion, playing a cruel game with Bill's mind. The question is: was Alice there? What if it had been Alice, wearing only a mask, in one of the libraries, or dining rooms, or parlors at the Somerton mansion, having relations with countless unknown men? So in fact she was there, because Bill can't determine whether Alice's dream was a Freudian example of "wish fulfillment," or whether it was an absurd nightmare. Maybe her tears are only an act of shame, and her dream is a representation of what she truly desires. Perhaps her dream is honest, but she unconsciously reacts with shame upon waking. In an inverse manner, Bill has witnessed an actual massive orgy but has also been unmasked, humiliated, and made to feel guilt or shame over his actions. 

Alice's indiscretions are insidious in that they are one step ahead of Bill's. If Bill is hurt by Alice's first confession, this is understandable. But he should be reassured by her call which serves as a hindrance to any precoital passions experienced with Domino. Had it not been for house-wife Alice calling him, perhaps Bill and Domino would have consummated their chance meeting, and Bill would likely have contracted HIV. In this way, it is practically suggested that Alice has some sort of omniscient power. 
Her dream (after Bill arrives home) suggests that she saw what Bill saw. Her call suggests that she is acting not only in Bill's best interest, but in her own, in that, we can figure that if Bill slept with Domino, he would eventually make love to Alice, passing on the disease to her. Alice not only wants to protect Bill, but herself, and Bill is something of a conduit of herself - sadly, it could be argued that she owns him, that she truly controls him. But, if this is so, does not this represent love absolute - laying down one's life for another? True, except that Alice may be cunning enough to hide her selfishness. The problem with all of this is that Bill and Alice are walking an extremely thin line between safety and danger, and they don't see it - or at least, Bill doesn't. This fact supports the disturbing theory that Alice is the true puppet master, and not Victor. Regardless, the newspaper headline seems to be a central truth of the story: Bill (and Alice, and perhaps Helena too) are "lucky to be alive."

The newspaper headline "Lucky to be Alive" symbolizes at least two instances in which Bill escapes fate: by abstaining from relations with Domino, and, by being pardoned for his trespassing at Somerton. 
But that's not all: the caption below the image in the newspaper tells of a bank robber named Anthony Norman who staged a hostage crisis at the Wyandanch Station of the Long Island Rail Road. 
The name "Anthony Norman" seems oddly familiar. One possibility follows: the name of actor Anthony Perkins can be conjoined with the first name of oedipal-complex killer, Norman Bates, the character whom the former played in Alfred Hitchcock's classic 1960 horror film, Psycho. The name in the newspaper is formed of the two first names of the actor and character, respectively. This may be pure coincidence, but there are more interesting cinematic connections. Perkins, who could pass for Kafka's dark Irish double, in fact played Josef K in Orson Welles' 1962 adaptation of Kafka's The Trial. Only two years after Psycho, and Perkins embodies another victim in a very different horror. Bill Harford's "trial" is at times similar to K's. The bakery next to Domino's apartment, named Josef Kreibich Knish Bakery, is a veiled reference to Josef K, and Kafka, as well a veiled reference to Jewishness. The latter film obviously has a Jewish connotation, while the former is less known. Nathan Abrams writes that Psycho was based on the 1959 novel of the same name by Robert Bloch. The story is based on Ed Gein, the real-life serial killer inspired partly by heinous Nazi crimes (ex: furniture or clothing made from human body parts). Bloch himself and many key figures involved in the production of the film were Jews, and the Freudian aspects obviously owe much to the contentious Jewish-Viennese psychoanalyst. Vienna takes us back to Schnitzler, Freud's supposed double. 

The name, Anthony Norman, seemed oddly familiar the first time I looked closely at the newspaper story. So, I read further: in real life, Perkins spent much of his life in homosexual relationships, though he married Berinthia Berenson, the model and photographer, in 1973 at age 41. Berenson claimed patrilineal Jewish heritage. Abrams also writes that "Norman" was an Anglo name adopted by immigrant Jews in America, the reason being it sounded neutral and normal, and not Jewish. In the semi-fictional news story, Anthony Norman is the name of a bank robber. So, there's a connotation of criminality. Again, being a Jew was borderline criminal for a very long time in Europe; being homosexual is still and was taboo and illegal in many places in the west. "Anthony Norman," at some level, plays at some taboo notion of ultra-criminality - a bank robber, possibly a Jew, possibly gay. Bill is paranoid when he realizes he is being followed - he doesn't know why he is being followed, and he doesn't know which aspect of his character or behavior is being scrutinized, hence the paranoia. 

Perkins was diagnosed HIV positive in 1990 and died two years later, or seven years before the release of Eyes Wide Shut. Berenson died aboard American Airlines Flight 11 during the September 11 terror attacks in New York, 2001, two years after the release of Eyes Wide Shut. 





Thursday, April 28, 2022

The Other Aleph: Film as Poetry

Though the word "Aleph" is nearly synonymous with the late Argentine author, Jorge Luis Borges, and makes a few appearances in acrostic Psalms (Ps 37; Ps 119) in the Old Testament, the alphabetic character, idea, and literary source could also figure into The Shining. This parallel may be the product of synchronistic, or, magical thinking, but, The Shining being an overtly psychological horror/thriller film, this idea should not be ruled out simply because it is unusual. Much of what makes The Shining unsettling has to do with the logical inconsistencies, vexatious plot holes, and the subtle but disturbing upheaval of conventional horror tactics ("meditative scares" rather than "jump scares," prolonged, terrifying "climax," etc). Critics often say it has all of the trappings of a typical horror film without being a horror film. 

Kubrick was influenced by Jung's archetypes - universal and indestructible images which hold powerful, unified meanings for all people. The word "synchronicity" itself was coined by Jung, a fact which suggests a mode of thinking that strives to understand disparate phenomena, whether psychological or physical. Jung's influence shows most visibly in Full Metal Jacket and The Shining. The "duality of man" alluded to in the former speaks to Jung's self-explanatory thinking on moral duality: any good attribute has its opposite. This theme is also very strong in Psalms, and very much so in Psalms 37 and 119 where the acrostic references the Hebrew alphabet, each letter introducing an aphorism or prayer that alludes to a conflict and resolution in a few short lines. This in mind, with the ancient notion of good and evil, you almost can't say "man" without meaning man in his duality  

It isn't coincidental that I mention Borges; when it comes to themes of modernity, especially as it applies to architecture, we should consider that Kubrick had read Borges and Kafka prior to the production of The Shining, and mentions both writers' clear, simplistic style in a 1980 interview with Vicente Molina Foix. This is revealing, if only for the fact that Borges is forever associated with the labyrinth, while Kafka is arguably associated with the urban, alienated individual. The common criticism that Kubrick's films are cold, distant, and even cynical reflects at some level the filmmaker's inspirations. I could go on probably for hours about the implications of Kubrick's intentional employment of coldness, irony, and isolation in his films, but I won't.

Kafka's alienated characters attempt to navigate complex, inhumane, labyrinthine built environments in most of his stories and novels. These environments, such as early-20th century New York, which Karl Rossmann is confronted by in Amerika, are timeless. Before the young man disembarks from the Hamburg America Line (a coincidental reference to HAL9000 in 2001: A Space Odyssey) ship, he makes several missteps, including entrusting his only suitcase to a stranger, and, allowing himself to become embroiled in an argument between the ship's stoker, to whom Karl is sympathetic, and the ship's upper management. Karl Rossmann almost mirrors Dave Bowman, who takes issue with his spaceship's management, namely, the supercomputer HAL. Karl wanders through the dark and winding interior of the ship, which is almost entirely empty of people, just as Bowman and Poole are virtually lost within their spaceship in 2001, only able to communicate with supercomputer HAL, while the other three astronauts hibernate in their coma-pods. By the third and final part of the film, Bowman dismantles HAL and propels the ship through an infinite, dark space, entirely alone. "HAL" mirrors the shipping line in Kafka's novella - both are distant, bureaucratic entities. More could be said of this connection, surely.

But, I was here to talk about The Shining. It doesn't hurt to point out that Kubrick focused on themes of isolation, group dynamics, and individualism many times before. Even Full Metal Jacket, with all of its group dynamics, is still very much about the individual experience of those dynamics, dramatized by a war-time setting (further - in the late '60s, when "group" dynamics would have coincided with communalism, socialism, hippies, etc). Barry Lyndon, too, is about one man making his way to his idea of success in 19th century Europe. In Lolita, the story of Humbert Humbert reflects the dual-natured reality of a single, very troubled man's obsessive (taboo, and illegal) pursuit of a teenaged girl. The Killing could be read through the character of George Peatty, who has been taken advantage of by his wife, friends, and employment - the conspirators representing yet again a rogue group dynamic. A Clockwork Orange centers on the experience of Alex, and Eyes Wide Shut focuses on Bill, yet there are significant examples of group dynamics in both too. 

Back to Borges. In "The Immortal," Borges uses first-person narration to describe the journey a Roman soldier (an alienated individual) makes to a mysterious city.

I had made my way through a dark maze, but it was the bright City of the Immortals that terrified and repelled me. A maze is a house built purposely to confuse men; its architecture, prodigal in symmetries, is made to serve that purpose. In the palace that I imperfectly explored, the architecture had no purpose. There were corridors that led nowhere, unreachably high windows, grandly dramatic doors that opened onto monk like cells or empty shafts, incredible upside-down staircases with upside-down treads and balustrades. Other staircases, clinging airily to the side of a monumental wall, petered out after two or three landings, in the high gloom of the cupolas, arriving nowhere. I cannot say whether these are literal examples I have given; I do know that for many years they plagued my troubled dreams; I can no longer know whether any given feature is a faithful transcription of reality or one of the shapes unleashed by my nights.

Similarly, purposeless and immense structures figure into Amerika in the form of skyscrapers, country estates, hotels, and ships. Like many of Edward Hopper's paintings, individuals, not groups, are camouflaged within the loneliness of large natural, urban, and domestic environments. From the introductory helicopter shots in The Shining, the Overlook Hotel appears enormous, imposing, and castle-like. It is ostentatious, sitting completely isolated on a rugged mountain range. The main idea that can be distilled from the excerpt above is this single line: 

A maze is a house built purposely to confuse men; its architecture, prodigal in symmetries, is made to serve that purpose.

Mirrors, symmetries, dualities - this is what Borges suggests is the basis of confusing, deceptive architecture. Literal mirrors and symbolic "mirroring" is at the core of The Shining and much of Kubrick's work. For instance, consider that Stephen King and Stanley Kubrick have the same initials. "SK" mirrors "SK." King's extreme dislike of Kubrick's interpretation of his novel only exacerbates the idea of dualities or mirrors: King = good, Kubrick = bad. Note also that if we wanted to assign numerical values to these initials, we would arrive at something like: S = 19, K = 11. We can read "SK" like a year: "1911." In the film, the final image we see is a framed photograph showing Jack at the center of a ritzy ball at the hotel, July 4, 1921. This would be 10 years after 1911. As others have noted, 19+11 = 30, and, 1+9+1+1 = 12. Both numbers are of some significance. If, for example, "SK" is "12," then the dual "SK" of King vs. Kubrick spells "12" and "12." Night and day. "24" in total, like hours in a single day. 

As a note on the strangeness of mirrors - when Danny writes "Redrum" in red lipstick on Wendy's bedroom door, he spells the "D" and "R" backwards. When reversed, however, the first four letters "MURD" are correctly spelled, leaving the "ER" backwards-facing. "M" and "U" are symmetrical.

During Jack's first visit to the Gold Room where he imagines a bartender named Lloyd, he refers to the bills he's carrying: two $10s, and two $20s. Jack wants to get rid of these bills. If we add these numbers, we get 60. 60 can be divided in two, to get 30 and 30. But, if we add 60 to 1921, we get 1981 - one year after the film's release. If we presume the film takes place in 1980, when it was released, then we can subtract 60 from 1980 and arrive at 1920. Does Jack want to go back in time? Perhaps. Rob Ager of Collative Learning points out that President Woodrow Wilson placed all American banks under the auspices of the Federal Reserve in 1921, allowing for the banishing of the gold standard. A line of thinking is that the Federal Reserve's refusal to lend money worsened and prolonged the depression. The topic has been subject to many conspiracy theories. Ager has written a good deal about the theme of gold - as color, symbol, and subtext - in The Shining. It appears Kubrick was concerned about the reliability of banks and cash, and at some point advocated buying gold, so it isn't out of the question. If we break apart 1921 and add it's individual figures (1+9+2+1) we arrive at 13. 13 is one more than 12, which is the sum of 1911. 1911 also gives us 11, so we see a similar sequence emerging. In 10 years, we advance 1 step (1931: 1+9+3+1 = 14, etc). 

The pacing of The Shining largely reflects the novelty of steadicam which allowed for long, balanced tracking shots. For this reason, the pacing and visual language of The Shining is architectonic in nature. The rectilinear, maze-like halls of the Overlook Hotel dictate how characters (and the camera) moves. There are certainly exceptions: when Jack intimidates Wendy, forcing her to walk backwards up a large set of stairs, the movement does not follow a straight line. The excessive size of Jack's "writing room" is cartoonish: thirty-foot ceilings, gothic "wheel" chandeliers, Native American tapestries, furnished sitting areas, fireplace, enormous windows, etc. 

13 is a loaded number whose relevance and significance in the film Fell Ryan has shown in a number of instances. If we add 1981 in a similar manner (1+9+8+1) we get 19. 19 mirrors the century in which 1921, 1980, 1942, and 1981 all took place (though we would say twentieth century, not nineteenth). Still, we have 20 and 10 and 19. A lot of bad things happened in years beginning with "19," arguably, too many events to list. 

Consider the office of Stuart Ullman with the impossible window where Jack interviews for the caretaker position. But first, a note on the window: the window is considered impossible because the office is located in the interior of the Overlook Hotel; however, I would speculate that there is a similarity between the office's impossible window and the maze's possible center. Perhaps the Overlook Hotel has a hidden courtyard, like, say, the Pentagon in Arlington County, just across the river from D.C. The Pentagon is a very strange, powerful, and physically enormous example of American Federal architecture. It is, oddly, or not, a modern version of a colonial "star fort," a military fortress built in geometric pattern to maximize defense from invasion. 9/11 would "prove" the compound's weaknesses in a modern warfare environment. Ullman appears very presidential behind the mahogany desk with the small American flag and fountain pens. The White House doesn't have a courtyard, but the Pentagon does. "Caretaker," while a euphemism of "gravedigger," could also be read as "defender" or "protector." It seems Ullman wants Jack to protect and preserve the Overlook. The Pentagon, of course, houses the Department of Defense. Ullman's appearance has been compared to JFK, an idea that, in 1980 as well as now, hints at the dark, dirty story of the late president's assassination. Since his televised, public assassination in 1963, countless conspiracy theories have gained near-mainstream status. 



















It would take too much time to recount the significance of the Aleph. But I'll give an overview: the maze as reality and concept is explored several times in The Shining. We are reminded of the Ancient Greek myth of the minotaur in the maze. The mini-epic poem "Catullus 64" by Roman poet, Catullus, is as labyrinthine as the labyrinth at Knossos which it depicts. Theseus, the hero, will slay the minotaur in the labyrinth, and marry Ariadne. Her love has helped him to defeat the minotaur. 

Jack follows Danny into the maze at the Overlook hotel to murder him. Danny outsmarts Jack and reunites with his mother, Wendy, after hiding, and retracing his steps. To the left of Ullman's head is an eagle carving which almost looks like the letter "X."  



Or, does it look like the Aleph?















As has been noted before, the eagle, which appears on Jack's "Stovington" t-shirt, and indirectly, in the Adler typewriter ("Adler" being the German word for "eagle") he uses to type hundreds of pages containing the same 10 words (and 42 characters), is a small but blatant reference to the literal embodiment and representation of the eagle as a symbol of total power and terror. It is less well-known that the Nazis found inspiration in American notions of Eugenics which proliferated with popularity in the early twentieth century. But the eagle does allude to Nazi Germany. The number 42 figures into The Shining in a variety of ways, pointing to the fact that the Final Solution was carried out in 1942. The freezer Hallorann shows the Torrances during the tour of the Overlook Hotel has been compared to a photograph of concentration camp barracks. The resemblance is uncanny. 

"Adler" begins with the letter "A." "A" is the Aleph, and so "aleph" is also "eagle." The eagle carving coincides aesthetically with the Hebrew Aleph. The Aleph was descended from the Phoenician alphabet. The ancient linguists based the shape of the letter on the head of an Ox, which is quite similar to a bull or Minotaur (part bull, part man), as it is a horned cattle/bovine animal. We also have the strange skier poster in the game room where Danny has a vision (of the twins) that may suggest the presence of a minotaur. 


 










The poster is also given the title "Monarch" which suggests the idea of Kings, Kingdoms, and castles. "A" is mighty, and close to God. The Overlook is itself a maze of the Escher kind: the stairs lead down and up simultaneously, depending on our perspective. Wendy ascends or descends; Jack follows or leads; Danny escapes or deceives. 










Tuesday, December 22, 2020

Lady Liberty

 Alice is a star:












No, Alice isn't posing exactly the same as the Statue of Liberty. However, notice the star's points behind Alice, like the crown of Lady Liberty. 
































The enormous statue also sits on an eleven-pointed star-fort formerly used by the military. Eleven is the number of women forming the "magic" circle at Somerton. 


Code Red

 













Cruise as Lieutenant Kaffee in 1992 drama A Few Good Men.



























Cruise as Bill Harford in Ziegler's billiards room near the end of Eyes Wide Shut.




Cruise probably played one of the "few good men" in Eyes Wide Shut, despite Bill's hubris and many shortcomings. Needless to say, the "misunderstanding" between Bill and Ziegler in some ways mirrors the legal and personal battle between Lieutenant Kaffee (Cruise) and Colonel Jessep (Jack Nicholson) in A Few Good Men. 

Possibly the most significant connection between the two films - or two scenes - is fairly obvious: during the questioning of Cl. Jessep, Lt. Kaffee asserts that he wants the truth. Cl. Jessep famously thunders "You Can't Handle The Truth!" before proceeding with a verbal onslaught against the inexperienced, idealistic Kaffee and fellow Marines. 

Opposite anger, Victor (Sydney Pollack) is jovial and warm when he receives Bill in his billiards room for no other purpose than to reprimand, and ultimately, threaten him. Victor is smiling and cocksure when he tells Bill "Nobody killed anybody; someone died - it happens all the time!" These last few lines in their talk are analogous to Jessep's unforgettable retort, and no doubt, the anger shows through Victor throughout the protracted one-on-one. 

Young idealist vs. corrupt old-timer. Bill can't handle the truth. Case closed. 

Let's not forget Jack Torrance never died - he, of course, played Colonel Jessep twelve years later. 












Shame?

 



Monday, November 23, 2020

A11

 









Jack's literary masterpiece from The Shining.


Humbert Humbert in Lolita. 


To the left of his elbow we see framed an "All" brand box of cleaner.  Though Collative Learning's Rob Ager proposes, interestingly, that "All" in The Shining can be read as "A11" (as in, "A eleven," since the lower-case "l"s look like "1"s in "Courier New" font), there's a funny reference that goes as far back as Lolita that may debunk the idea. 

Is "All" meant to symbolize "A11," as in, Apollo 11? Ager's argument is interesting, but speculative. It asks us to assume that Kubrick coded "All" as "A11" to make a subtle confession regarding the faking of the Moon landing. A master photographer and filmmaker, we are to reason that Kubrick was hired by NASA or the Fed to fake images of the Apollo 11 moon landing. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" would be taken to mean "Apollo 11 work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." We have two "l"s in "Apollo" which can render "All" a shortened version of "A(po)ll(o)." Apollo 11 then, is a sort of mirror. Kubrick must mirror Jack, too, with this line of thinking: an artist driven mad by impossible demands placed on him by dark forces. There is no figuring out why Jack has been typing the same 10 words (and 42 characters) hundreds of times. 

Maybe Kubrick helped fake the moon-landing. Or, maybe the interrelated details are placed there to confuse the viewer. This becomes comedic when we consider the All cleaner box behind Humbert Humbert. Again, "Humbert Humbert," the name, is a double, or mirror, just like "11" and "Apollo." Humbert is crafting up a martini for Charlotte Haze, whom he has disappointed. Humbert is yelling up the stairs to Charlotte, telling her that the diary she discovered is a fiction story using the names "Charlotte" and "Lolita" by coincidence. It's a laughably terrible explanation that betrays a darker reality: Humbert is preying upon Lolita, Charlotte's teen daughter. He has been hiding his real identity all along - though he's a professor, he only wants Lolita. Charlotte even tries to seduce him, to no avail. At one point, Humbert locks himself in the bathroom with his diary, writing. His work is all-encompassing, just as his obsession with Lolita and frustration with Charlotte is all-encompassing. 

Also, "All" points to the two "l"s in "Lolita." "ALL" work is "LOLITA" work: Humbert is working to ensnare Lolita. He plans to murder Charlotte, but she rushes into a speeding automobile in the rain, taking it upon herself to end her life. The legal situation is mostly stable. But, Humbert will only work harder on his objective: Lolita. He arrives at Camp Climax to pick up Lolita before the end of summer. He then lies to her about Charlotte, coaxing her into a road-trip that avoids Ramsdale. Lolita eventually succumbs to the flu, and is taken to the hospital, while Humbert recovers on his own in a hotel room. When he discovers Lolita has left the hospital, he is briefly detained by six others following a violent outburst. It could be said Humbert has become "dull" in his pursuit of Lolita. 

All was branded as a dirt-remover and cleaner, as far back as the 1960s. The idea of "dirt-remover" sticks somewhat to Humbert, as Humbert is trying to "come clean" while also hiding real dirt. 




Evolution and ergonomics

 
















The careful observer will note that the reddish rock formations that appear in the "Dawn of Mansequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey foreshadow the "djinn" chairs designed by Olivier Mourgue in 1965 that appear in the space station lobby in the following sequence. The spinning femur bone which prefigures the satellite 4 million years later reassures us that such large spans of time can be generalized very simply, to comic or tragic effect. The djinn chairs surely seem to play off the idea of rock formations and geology. They are highly modern, but modernity is little more than a limited, poor representation of actual nature. In other words, nature is always ahead and behind. 

No games

The Harford's have a small mini-bar to the left of their dinner table. 

Note the dinner table is covered in a red tablecloth. 











In Victor Ziegler's billiards room, we see the same set-up mirrored. 











Here are both pictures, with Ziegler's room reversed horizontally. 


















The visual connection is obvious, while the symbolic connection is somewhat more tricky. 
Ziegler's room is symmetrical: the easy-chairs are identical, each with a yellow pillow on the right side (left, when reversed). The "back-and-forth" of Victor and Bill's conversation which literally takes them back and forth throughout the room, is disorienting. 



















A symbolic connection exists between Victor's "manly" billiards/"game" room and the Harford's warm "family" dining room. If the "Magic Circle" board game details at the end of the film tell us anything, it's that the billiard balls relate to deception. Note that in the scene at the Harford's, Bill goes into the kitchen and looks back at Alice. She catches him looking and smiles, and then Bill smiles. Bill looks more bemused than happy, while Alice appears smug and deceiving. There is a packet titled "Tests" on the Harford's table, in addition to a marbled composition notebook, a Scotch plaid folder, and other magazines/folders that are difficult to identify.  

One thing to note is that the word "Tests" can be framed like Alice's "adventures" at the end, in that there are those that are real, and those dreamed. The hypothetical test problems Helena works on aren't all that hypothetical: money is real and certainly important. Bill's presence, however, suggests that he is also being tested. In light of Bill's adventures, the double bind is something like this: the convincing dream has us ask "is this real?" while a strange experience in real life makes us ask "is this a dream?" One obvious "test" for Bill may be: is Bill holding up his commitment to his wife and daughter as a husband and father? Further, if his missteps have put them in danger, and caused Bill to have a guilty conscience, is their continued security really real

Eyes Wide Shut is infamously ambiguous: did Bill show restraint in his desires, therefore making him a hero, or, did his adventures - no matter how impotent - demonstrate his lack of restraint, making him into a post-modern shell of a hero? We want to think Bill has learned something new by the end of the film, but it seems he only increases his knowledge of his own ignorance.

The tests are many, and vary in scope. Alice's confessed thoughts and dreams play like a very real (black-and-white) film in Bill's mind throughout the film. I wonder what the film running through Alice's mind after Bill's adventures and subsequent confession would look like? Or what film was playing when she first questions Bill about the two women with whom he was speaking and promenading at Ziegler's ball? The actual film might not be what Alice imagines, unless this distinction plays on differences in male and female intuition: Bill thinks in black-and-white while Alice thinks in color. And if Alice does think in color then perhaps Alice's vision is not so different from Bill's lived experience, as shown from third and first-person points of view in the film. In other words, that perhaps Bill is living Alice's nightmare, just as Alice lived Bill's nightmare the previous summer. The difference is that it wasn't Bill's nightmare until Alice confessed. At some level, the confession merely unleashes the latent anxiety, fear, and revulsion in Bill. Bill's unconscious/accidental confession seems to unleash similar feelings in Alice. 






















A note on the green plaid folder: consider that 3M's Scotch-brand tape with green plaid is called "Magic tape" and has "100s of Uses." The Scotch brand pattern is very similar to that of the folder. Also, when it comes to "100s," Bill tears a $100 bill in half for the cabbie before entering Somerton. The splitting of Bill, whether morally, emotionally, culturally, sexually, etc., is of some interest, considering the exact half-way point of the film (which centers on Bill's masked face) is only a few minutes later. But more on this later.

First, a note on the $100 bill: American polymath Benjamin Franklin is pictured on the bill. Franklin died on April 17, 1790. 1789 is considered the end of the Age of Enlightenment, with 1715 given as the beginning date. In Barry Lyndon, Lady Lyndon finally pays Barry's large debts in December of 1789. This foreshadows the end of Barry, the Lyndons, and the aristocracy in general. The French Revolution would have been underway for nearly a year. Ben Franklin would die a few months later, symbolizing an end of the Enlightenment. Franklin, who had been an active Freemason for over 60 years, achieved the highest rank of Grand Master by age 28 in 1734. 

When Bill rips the $100 bill, he creates two Franklins worth either nothing, or, $50 each. This act can be read as a symbolic gesture in a few different ways:

1.) Bill wants to extend his life, or time. 
2.) Bill is breathing life back into the Enlightenment. 
3.) Bill Harford, like a hundred dollar "bill" banknote, can be corrupted.

1. Bill gives the cabbie one half at the time, and promises the other half later. "Half now, half later" is something seen in mob movies and shows like The Sopranos, and has a connotation of criminality. Surely in some sense, Bill is clueless, merely trying to boost his ego by demonstrating his power over a low-income cabbie. But Bill's "half now, half later" act implies that the cabbie is "in" on Bill's scheme. The cabbie simply wants the money: if he leaves, he's out $100, and the torn bill is worth nothing. Arguably, Bill is frightened of the possibility that he won't have a good way out of Somerton, if something were to go wrong and he had to leave. Implicating the cabbie in his scheme helps extend the possible amount of time he can spend at Somerton. It's simple exploitation.

Franklin died in 1790, but it wasn't until 1861 that the first $100 bills were minted. Franklin's bust didn't appear on the bill until 1914. With Franklin's lifespan encompassing the entire Age of the Enlightenment, Franklin and the $100 bill share common symbolism. When Bill rips the bill, he is creating two halves. 1790 - 50 = 1740. In 1740, the Plantation Act was passed. This allowed immigration to the American Colonies. It would be 36 years until the beginning of the Revolutionary War, and 43 years before the abolishment of the 13 Colonies and creation of the sovereign republic. Add the "50" back and we arrive at 1790. In that year, The Naturalization Act of 1790 set uniform rules for the path to citizenship. It largely precluded minorities, African slaves, and indigenous people from becoming citizens, favoring white people. Significantly, though, Jews - an ethnic/religious minority - could be naturalized all the way back with the passing of the Plantation Act. An excerpt from an article on Our American Revolution explains:  

Considered purveyors of useful capital and permitted to own land after 1723, Jews retained second-class legal status in England until the mid-nineteenth century. By contrast, Jews living in the British colonies more than seven years could be naturalized under the terms of the Plantation Act of 1740. 

2. The connection we could make is that Bill wants to dial back the Enlightenment 50 years. 1789 - 50 = 1739. This is fine: 1739 or, 1740 places us in the territory where the Plantation Act is imminent. In Stanley Kubrick: New York Jewish Intellectual, film scholar Nathan Abrams considers Bill Harford's urban residence, medical profession, and general unmanliness as indicators of Bill's Jewish identity. These details not so surprisingly parallel those provided in Schnitzler's novella, in which the doctor, Fridolin, who lives in decadent Vienna, is virtually cuckolded by his blond wife. The point is that as an outsider, Bill wants to be included; this is at least a part of what makes Somerton the critical center-point of the film. Bill will be humiliated and singled out. His initiation is illegitimate and he is cast out once again. 

Also of some interest here is that the American Revolution (1776-1783; spanning 7 years) came just 6 years before the French Revolution. The 13 Colonies became sovereign and independent by 1783 via the Treaty of Paris. The American Revolution sparked revolutions across the world, especially in France. The main difference, however, is that the American Revolution was fought to uphold a new government, whereas the French Revolution was fought to destroy the existing one. 

3. This one is fairly obvious. The French Revolution would result in income inequality, death, and destruction, and a coup-d'etat by Napoleon. But it would allow free markets, popular sovereignty, significant reduction of power held by Church and State, and greater liberties. Failure and success are rife in the history of this Revolution. The Marxist-Classic reading regrettably celebrates the idea that the working class wanted to overthrow the elite. In fact, anarchists used violence, destruction, and terror to gain power. Rather than draw meaningful distinctions between powers (I.e., Church and State), the anarchist, proto-Socialist revolt proved little more than a decentralized upheaval. The Monarchy became the bogeyman responsible for all ills of French life. Yet, capitalism grew after the revolution. No Revolutionary leader assumed power or authority in a post-Revolution France. And the revolutionaries were against private wealth, no? Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, the anarchist born ten years before Marx, likely supplied the latter with influential ideas - the absurdity of property, economic reform, collective ownership, and demilitarization.  

Bill tearing a bill in half may be an oblique reference to an ouroboros, itself a reference to infinity, wholeness, and destruction. Additionally, defacement of currency is illegal in the United States. So, Bill, whose name obviously mirrors "bill" used to denote paper currency, is paradoxically created in order to be destroyed or denigrated. The snake of the ouroboros eats its own tail: the snake must decrease in size as it eats itself to death. Money, too, is reduced when it is divided. Bill bargains for more with less. He wants more than he can afford. Leave the accusations to Victor who tells Bill, "You've been way out of your depth for the last twenty-four hours." The funny thing too being that many of the things money can buy, or actuate, are infinitely worse than the defacement or denigration of money itself. Of course, Bill's disregard for this secular, Nationalistic/Bureaucratic sin may just be an indication of Bill's inherent corruption and vice. It isn't what "should be," but what "is." 

And now to a series of darker connections. 

From the $100 bill we arrive at the Franklin Scandal (1988-1991) - again, the keyword is "Franklin." These stories would have been calming down (or heating up?) by the late nineties, when Eyes Wide Shut was being filmed. Lawrence E. King Jr., manager of Franklin Community Federal Credit Union in Omaha and Republican Party donor, had defrauded the bank of $40 million, creating for himself a lavish lifestyle replete with multiple homes and wild parties. White collar crimes aside, male and female sexual abuse victims named King among other elite abusers. Through force and intimidation, the Douglas County court safely dropped charges, concluding that such allegations were a hoax. King would spend ten years in jail, but the prostitution leads would be forbidden. Gary Caradori, the Senate-appointed investigator into the Omaha, Nebraska prostitution and child abuse case, was mysteriously killed in a plane crash along with his young son days after solidifying seemingly damning evidence which could have changed things entirely. The 1994 documentary Conspiracy of Silence which, though set to air, never made it to television, covers the story in shocking detail. For example, the witnesses, such as Paul Bonacci, Alisha Owen, and others were threatened with perjury charges if they continued with their case. Owen spent over four years in jail. Others, including victims' family members, were mysteriously disappeared and killed. King would relocate to the Swamp, aka, Washington D.C. upon his release and subsequent domestic exile. 

Around the same time, Craig Spence was being investigated for credit card fraud linking him to a homosexual escort service. As The Washington Times reported in 1989, Spence had obtained keys to the White House in order to give secret late-night tours of the building to male prostitutes. Spence, who worked for the State Department and lobbied for Japanese and American business relations, later committed suicide in a D.C. hotel room. Also in the mid-80s, former House of Representatives member, Barney Frank, was involved in a scandal that brought to light his relationship with a male prostitute who conducted escort services out of Frank's D.C. townhome. Apparently, this did little to hinder his nascent political career. 

I guess the logical thing to do here is mention that 1,200 human bones from 15 bodies have been discovered in Ben Franklin's old townhome in London, on 36 Craven Street ("Craven" being a coincidental echo of Wes Craven, pioneer of American horror film). The main excuse is that anatomy was a new science and experiments with human bodies were necessary. Likely, the bodies were already deceased, retrieved from graves to be studied. 

The mystery persists: Freemasonry, money, the dual-symbology of the Enlightenment and subsequent "decline" into the Industrial Age (commodification, capitalism, Lassiez-Faire economics, etc). Notably, Franklin signed the Declaration of Independence, the Treaty of Paris, and the Constitution. Franklin's 13 virtues had some influence upon the newly founded Hasidic Jewish community in mid 18th-century England in what is known as the Musar movement. Franklin, as we are taught in America, would document performed virtues on a calendar, like a moral equivalent of present-day calorie-tracking apps. His self-improvement agenda arguably rivals Strauss-Howe thinking on cycles and generations. 

The Musar movement, concerned with Jewish ethics, adopted a similar methodology. The research on Ben Franklin presented in the video by Dr. Michael Shire is revealing and somewhat fascinating. The irony is that the "Franklin Prophecy," printed in 1934 by pro-Nazi American William Dudley Pelley, and supposedly transcribed from Franklin's notes by Charles Cotesworth Pickney, the Minister to France and southern Federalist statesman in the early 1800s, suggests the opposite: namely, that Franklin hated Jews, thought they were vampires, that they preyed on the blood of Christians, and were a degenerate "Asiatic" race. Clearly, Franklin was a rationalist, a free-thinking person of privilege. There's no good evidence that Franklin was an anti-Semite. As the Franklin Scandal shows, evil is perpetrated by all people - a fact which is as damning as it is hopeful - Lawrence King Jr., aka, "Larry King" was black, Midwestern, and Republican.  

But, back to the table:

Scotch is a possible nod to the Scottish Rite (Freemasonry) which, though its origins date to 17th century England, were promulgated by the well-to-do in Colonial North America in places like Pennsylvania, South Carolina, and Jamaica. The Scottish Rite was formally created in Charleston, SC, in 1801 by eleven members, at least six of whom were Sephardi Jews, the others being French, Scots-Irish, and English. We just finished establishing the connection between Franklin and the Enlightenment origins of Hasidism - the theme of Jews and Freemasons simply won't abate.

The presence of Helena working on her math problem involving money (coded as class and power) could be banal, or, tragic. Again, the $100 bill. Banal, because these elementary math problems are very common. Banal, because Alice is helping. Tragic, because money can be substituted as a type of moral virtue or value and taught to children at a young age. Tragic, less obviously, in that Helena is symbolically present at Ziegler's billiards table. Bill deceives Alice - or does he? And similarly, Bill deceives Helena - or does he? There could be implied a particularly dark reading of Helena as a cynical, privileged only-child. The stereotype of the only-child as narcissistic, spoiled, and controlling, may be a warning. Note the resemblance to Alice Helena has: reddish blonde hair, pale skin, etc. Helena's age is given as seven years old. Mandy is dead by thirty, and Bill wants some explanations during his talk with Victor. 

We may describe a coworker in terms of what they "bring to the table," i.e., their talents, skills, etc. Enough evidence paints Victor as a skilled liar and deceiver. He brings magical deception to the billiards table where he attempts to play Bill (note "Bill" and billiards - Bill is an inanimate object meant to be "knocked around"). The tragic irony of having a truthful, serious discussion in a game room is proof enough of Victor's craftiness - hence the name "Victor:" history is written by the victorsThe girl is "history" and Victor gets to "write" her story. The tabloid's story is little more than some details surrounding an unknowable mystery. Victor insists that Bill is "playing" when in fact Bill is pursuing truth, while Victor's supposedly true story is a poorly-crafted lie. But the expression has some literal meaning when it comes to the symbolic presence of Helena at the other red table. Bill brings his family to Ziegler's billiards table, because he fears for their safety and well-being. The comedy or tragedy of Eyes Wide Shut is that the most significant part of the story takes place after the film ends. It offers no resolve, and therefore seems designed to say hope is necessary, while also criticizing the often misguided forms of hope that plague the blind, materialistic Harford's. 

This would be a thesis on Eyes Wide Shut read through the lens of Aquinas's morality ...which I don't really have time for. Though I would point out that Aquinas documented seven vices and seven virtues. And I would also point out that the number "7" figures considerably into Eyes Wide Shut and other Kubrick movies, and that, though the mystical significance of "7" is nothing new, it should not be ruled out when considering Kubrick's many masterpieces. 

Also:

An uncanny connection between The Killing and Eyes Wide Shut potentially exists in a framed picture in George and Sherry's bedroom and the actual figure of "Red Cloak" in the latter film. The figure in the picture appears to be cloaked, either seated or floating, near a cloud of smoke. Red Cloak wears a hooded cloak and swings a censer of burning incense which clouds the hall at Somerton. Also, as others (KDK12) have noted in The Shining, there is a subtle detail which crystallizes the notion of evil and sin: Red Cloak swings the censer in counter-clockwise circles, while himself walking a counter-clockwise circle with the eleven figures around him. Like Ziegler's billiards balls he's just "knocking around," Red Cloak bears an uncanny resemblance to the notion of a careless, destructive tyrant. Or, to the contrary, as we know Victor is a deceptive liar, a careful, meticulous tyrant. A tyrant like this is tied to Lucifer. The difference, though, is that these men were never angels. 

The eleven slaves/victims are like planets which revolve around a central mover. Sherry, as a sex symbol, would be the unmoved mover in The Killing, as she simply sits back and watches death and destruction ensue. 
















I'm closer to accepting a hypothetical gambit that all of Kubrick's thirteen (13) feature films are meant to be viewed and analyzed in relation to each other, like chapters in a single novel. Borges used a myriad of voices to write stories which frequently and intentionally explore interrelated themes, time periods, and symbols. In Kafka, too, single chapters could comprise entire novels: characters, setting, mood and atmosphere conspire to create interminable complexity and drama. 

Even the "01 and 10" theory about Radiohead's 3rd album, OK Computer, and 7th album, In Rainbows, fares pretty well for music fans. 3 and 7 added equals 10. For one, both album titles are spelled with 10 letters (two-lettered word followed by an eight letter word, and one space), OK Computer was originally conceived as "Ones and Zeroes," and the transitions starting with the end of the first track of OK Computer and the beginning of the first track of In Rainbows are somewhat uncanny when using a 10-second crossfade. Each track's lyrics are said to correspond to the same numbered track of the other. And, though OK Computer has 12 tracks (making 22 total), 22 is echoed again because there are 11 characters in each album title when the single space is counted (two OK Computer tracks play back-to-back at the center). 

One could simply join the two album titles to get a statement "OK Computer In Rainbows," which might suggest striping or splicing the albums, which is exactly what 01 10 is about. Also, computers, like Compact Discs, use binary (codes containing only variations of 0s and 1s) for data storage. Plenty have dismissed the fan theory as nonsense. I don't really care whether its valid or not, because there's enough evidence and coincidence to make it interesting, which is what matters when its music, art, or film that we're talking about. We don't know what it means, but we know that it means, and that is something.


Rival camps

Some things keep you up at night. In the universe of Kubrick, and more specifically, the world of Eyes Wide Shut , we are bound to comes acr...