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March 31, 2013



In American society the sexual reality of the individual has always been simply ignored by social and cultural institutions.

Precisely because the people who exercise power ignore and suppress their own sexual nature in themselves.

And Johnny is raised to be good and Johnny is told to get his gun and even outside of openly religious visions of man, Johnny is taught to feel disgust-at the earliest of ages and throughout his life-with regards to his own burning of the flesh as sexual desire.

And your own sense of disgust with regards to yourself keeps you down, and keeps you small-and you come to feel disgust and repulsion to this same thing in others and towards different cultural voices that might seem to deviate, in some way, from “moral rectitude”, “self-discipline” and “responsibility”.

And One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) is one of the greatest denouncements of the irresponsibility on the part of cultural power-of culture itself-that has ever existed with regards to its own self-reflection and understanding of its self.

And Nurse Ratched is allowed to follow her own culturally determined impulses of personal-and simian-psychological imposition as power over others, and take down the whole of society with her.

And at the heart of this loop or cycle of violence as atrocity-counter atrocity, is the overwhelming internal sense of disgust of the WASP with regards to his-her-own sexuality.

And the psychological weakness and limitations of the individual in power becomes the policy of power itself; and Johnny –Jack in this case-ultimately becomes a scapegoat-a Christ figure as the lamb of culture who is most formally sacrificed so that we all may feed from his flesh as the bedrock of destruction, violence and murder that society establishes itself on.

And Johnny is abandoned to the functions of cultural affirmation, beyond all judicial, moral, and even human oversight or tutelage.

And the film has cryptically horrified generations of viewers around the world-or at least in Western societies-in its underlying insinuations regarding human, moral truth-in that Johnny is right-morally justified-in rising up to strike down the tyrant that is society and culture itself in its treatment of the individual:


And almost 40 years later, the tyrant still does not understand this.

And it is her ignorance of her own personal psychology that has always made her a tyrant.

But it is her simian will to hold on to the historical power this ignorance as bestowed on her that keeps her from understanding this today.

And not because she can’t intellectually grasp it.

This bitch went to Harvard, so to speak!

Death to the tyrant:

Milos Forman:




Because the character Billy couldn’t actually kill nurse Ratched, he killed himself as the only power option left to him-and that is the hidden heart of suicide-of killing yourself as form of power because you cannot kill your true foe.

And this is the context in the film where the color of McMurphy’s (Jack Nicholson) clothes suddenly invades the center of your visceral contemplation of Forman’s message: that McMurphy is presented to you in his black leather jacket and the dock-worker’s winter cap of the hoodlum early in the film, but later looses this apparel when you come to understand him as a true figure of vitality and benevolence to his fellow man.

But after the initial shock treatment he is subjected to and the decision he finally makes to escape in company of the “Chief”, he acquires again in your contemplation of him the color black-for now he will be sucked up into this loop of violence that is the core structure of the film itself.

And he will fatally respond to the treatment he and his fellows are subjected to through his own explosion of personal violence, as a most comprehensible-logically and morally justified-will to affirmation through the physical destruction of Nurse Ratched.

But the very first image of the film is Nurse Ratched herself and it is she as institutional power that has true patrimony of the color black, as the clearly superior party in any penal analysis of this human drama, not McMurphy.

But Ratched’s true color is only fleetingly shown to you as part of your necessary understanding of her as a force that hides behind the color white-which she wears almost permanently throughout the film, but that is itself the façade of cultural legitimacy that arrogates to itself the use of coercion and deadly force with regards to the lives and well-being of individuals.

And she actually understands herself as a positive force in society that purports to “care” about people as patients, when really-becuase of her ignorance in regards to her own nature-everything about her is self-serving in her modus operandi of self-affirmation at the expense of the individuals around her:


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