You won’t see the smiley-faced logo of The Comedian—a savage, cynical, cigar-chomping vigilante from Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ seminal Watchmen—in HBO’s new series of the same name. Yet his spirit hovers over the network’s superb latest, which views ideas about American nobility, altruism and gallantry—the very qualities that define classical superheroes, and their genre—as a sick joke. Like its illustrious predecessor, still the greatest and most influential comic book of all time, Damon Lindelof’s daring follow-up is a story about an alternate U.S.A. with a costumed-avenger past and a divided present, where men and women don masks to conceal their ugly, bigoted, sadistic identities from each other and the world at large—and, also, to hide from themselves, and the fear and rage that consumes them.
Good and bad, cop and crook, innocent and guilty—everyone in Watchmen thinks they’re on the side of right no matter their constant wrongness, which repeats itself, over and over, like the ticking hands of a clock. As another rogue do-gooder once famously said, “Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.”
That man, Watchmen devotees will know, was Rorschach, the ink blot-faced antihero of Moore and Gibbons’ deconstructionist masterwork, whose 1980s crime-fighting was driven by right-wing extremist beliefs about how liberalism was sending the country straight into the sewer. Lost and The Leftovers creator Lindelof’s series is set 30 years after Rorschach’s manifesto found its way into the media’s hands and in this 2019 he’s become a symbol for a burgeoning white supremacist movement known as the Seventh Calvary, whose Caucasian members wear his trademark mask as their new de facto Klan hood. What’s old is always new again, and that’s hammered home by the opening of the first episode, in which a young African-American boy in 1921 Tulsa watches a silent movie about a black sheriff arresting a white bad guy, only to have the film interrupted by a legitimate massacre on the streets outside perpetrated by whites against blacks—a calamity that orphans him and provides the foundation for the ensuing action.
Poster Comment:
Wow, I think I've stumbled onto some sort of sleeper cell, anyone know the FBI tip line phone number?
Netflix has a new movie, "In the Dark of the Moon," Detectives notice that every 9 years there are 3 killings of white men. Turns out that the killer is a black woman who goes back in time every 9 years to kill white men who resisted their black and brown future.
Lindelof was born in Teaneck, New Jersey, the son of Susan Klausner, a teacher, and David Lindelof, a bank manager.[1][2] He attended Teaneck High School, a school whose diverse student body he credits with expanding his horizons as a writer.[3] Lindelof's mother is Jewish, whereas his father was of Scandinavian descent.[4][5][6]
Lindelof celebrated his Bar Mitzvah in Teaneck, where he attended synagogue for the Sabbath; he has stated, "I was a Jewish white kid growing up in Teaneck, but at the same time, I had African and Filipino and Asian friends and to have that experience all through high school while getting an awesome education was wonderful."[7] Lindelof attended film school at New York University, performing briefly in the band Petting Zoo, and moved to Los Angeles after graduating. Career Collaborators
Lindelof frequently collaborates with a tightly knit group of mostly Jewish film professionals which include J.J. Abrams, Adam Horowitz, Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, Edward Kitsis, Andre Nemec, Josh Appelbaum, Jeff Pinkner, and Bryan Burk.[5]
I quit posting that to Yahoo after it was deleted twice. And those were only replies to posters denying any Jewish connection.