Twist, Oliver Twist

I finally saw the movie Oliver recently. Why did it take me so long? I’ve always been averse to whatever the prevailing cultural trends might be and when a herd starts moving a particular way, I tend to go the opposite way.

When I was about seven, I was given a permission slip by my teacher to take home to my parents. It seems that we were going to go on a field trip for which I needed permission. The other kids were really excited about this field trip. Their excitement alarmed me. There was also something about the teacher’s tone which gave me a start and I asked:

“If I don’t get my parents’ permission, I don’t have to go?”

“That’s right.”

I therefore requested of my mother that she refrain from giving me permission. Surprisingly, she went along with this. It was not uncharacteristic of her to do what I asked even if the “why” was beyond her intellectual capability. Not wanting to do something was a notion I acquired early. It was almost as if I was inspired by the political tactic of “passive resistance.”

The first time I discovered the tactic was when I was even younger—about four. My father presented to my sister and me a challenge:

“If the two of you clean your room, you’ll get a surprise.”

My sister and I shared a room at the time. I decided that I didn’t want a surprise. In fact, “surprises” were a way of life in our household. I wanted fewer of them. I therefore refrained from cleaning “my side” of our bedroom. However, of course, the “surprise” was more to the benefit of my parents than me and therefore it came anyway; but since I hadn’t participated as the psychological exercise was supposed to induce, my sister was given the “surprise” and was instructed that after I cleaned my side of the room, she could “share” it with me.

The surprise was the amazing “Super Thing Maker” in which to manufacture “Creepy Crawlers”.

I’m sure there’s some not-so-deep psychological reason my father wanted to allow my sister and I to manufacture our own “surprises”. Meanwhile, I was the type of kid not allowed to watch horror movies at night because they would give me nightmares and this would interrupt my parents’ sleep. My mother wasn’t so keen on “surprises” either.

The real life horror movie of my life is something I’ve discussed elsewhere in this blog.

Back to Oliver. I spent that particular field trip day at home alone. Yeah! I didn’t have to go! Whereas other field trips I’ve experienced in my life, The Hershey’s Factory, The Museum of Natural History, The Wonder Bread Factory, Captain Kangaroo, Pixanne, were welcome in my childhood psyche. Oliver, for some reason, was not. I’m glad I waited.

Just for fun, I also recently saw the original movie, Oliver Twist. I liked it better in that it’s underlying message was more obvious. It laid out rather well the interplay between eugenics and feminism. Specifically, the movie was clearly pro-eugenics and anti-feminist albeit it was clear that sentiment toward the feminine was an obviously powerful political tool in which to affect social behavior.

The deaths of Oliver’s mother and Sykes’ girlfriend cause an immediate and obvious psychological reaction in the observers—the moviegoing audience or the wayward children, respectively. The emotional play-acting of Sykes’ girlfriend whether before the court clerk or the bystanders while kidnapping Oliver also induces social psychological reactions to her overt ends. The bonding experience of Oliver with his dying mother and then with the woman (his grandmother?) at his grandfather’s home are emotional moments in the movie, Oliver Twist.

I’m glad that I did not see Oliver as a child as the similarities between his life and my own would have been overwhelming. For one, I was essentially abandoned most of the time by my hysteric mother and placed inside a group that was not my own, namely school systems of which the majority of the children were not of my race or culture, such as it was. Although I did not have to worry about there not being enough food to eat, I was regularly subjected to crowd abuse of one kind and another of which I still have some physical and psychological scars. Meanwhile, it would seem that my only real advocate in the world was my maternal grandmother from whom I was usually separated given my mother didn’t think much of her. I think sometimes that had my mother died I could have been either put in her care or my paternal grandmother’s. The former would have likely make my life better and me into a better person whereas the latter would have likely scarred me for life in new and different ways. I say this even though both of my parents turned out to be narcissists which I attribute more to nurture than nature. By the time I came along, in my view, my maternal grandmother had reformed and therefore genuinely loved me and wanted to do right by me. How much of my mother’s narcissism can be attributed to her supposedly abusive childhood at the hands of her mother and how much can be attributed to The Depression and the power of movies and propaganda? I tend to put more strength on the latter influences. My mother, of course, disagrees.

Whereas in Oliver, and even more notably in Oliver Twist, the “bad guys” are largely Jewish, Irish, or some mixture. The “good guys” are WASPs. In my own personal drama, the “good guys” (my maternal grandparents) were Swiss/Scotch Irish/German Huguenots of albeit Protestant persuasion but somehow different from the hard Anglo and Franco-phillic WASPs on my father’s side—the “bad guys”. The “bad guys” were also Black girls and old white men and my sister. The “good guys” were Jewish girls and Black boys. That’s how it was for me in those days. That was my childhood.

In Oliver Twist, the characters of Mr. Bumble and Fagin are far more fleshed out. Mr. Bumble is clearly “Hen-pecked” and has a pithy line to that effect when he is considered responsible by law for the actions of his mercenary wife when there are many aspects of him I find sympathetic and sincere. As far as I can tell, the only females to be “oppressed” in this drama are Bill Sykes’ girlfriend and Oliver’s mother. Whereas boys clearly have it pretty rough all around, with some men having an easier life than others.

Mr. Bumble also makes the point that the reason for Oliver’s rebellion while apprenticed to the funeral director/coffin maker is due to his being fed meat rather than just gruel. Apparently, the eating of meat encourages rebelliousness (testosterone). This is no great secret, really. Vegetarians are more “herd-like” than carnivores. This is how it has always been.

It is clear that the Oliver Twist movie attempts to make the point that genetics confers character in that Oliver is so pleasant and well-mannered and of course good-looking (i.e., WASP-ish) even though he barely had a moment of bonding with his own mother. I do not disagree that some element of personality is inherited; however, I also contend that the effect of nutrition on genetic expression is generational. Specifically, a person fed a gruel diet will confer certain traits on a child that are not optimally expressed. According to Weston A. Price, DDS, it takes three generations to heal gene expression through means of optimal nutrition (mostly meat). Perhaps it also takes a mere three generations to corrupt character by means of substandard nutrition plus fear.

I disagree that certain races or blood lines are inherently morally corrupt except to say that generations of poor nutrition could indeed confer both moral and physical corruption. I also find it to be cruel to subject disparate young people to “multiculturalism,” or to otherwise force a child of relatively high moral character to bond with those whose historic, generational nutritional and cultural starvation is greater than his or her own. Essentially, this method “suppresses” children of higher moral and nutritional character, which, is not some sort of “justice” for the oppressed bloodlines but rather degrades everyone and further cements the oppression of everyone.

However, there is a sense of perverse “justice” when one miserable person brings another not-so-miserable person down to his or her level. This phenomenon is similar to the fear and resentment that Fagin and Sykes have for Oliver—above and beyond the self-interest of preserving their own livelihood. This resentment is clearer in Oliver Twist than in Oliver.

Fagin and Sykes therefore require that Oliver be degraded through the means of “fear” as Fagin explains to Sykes how Oliver can be recruited for con jobs. In Oliver Twist, Fagin is the more malevolent and conniving character whereas Sykes is merely a thug. His latter prominence in Oliver in my view is intended to fan Feminist fear of “male on female domestic violence”. In Oliver Twist, however, it is clear where the pressure originates—with Fagin.

Fear which stimulates cortisol will essentially undo the best in nutrition and genetics. Only culture can wholly confer cortisol resistance, which is why culture is being homogenized by our masters who desire a rebellion-proof utopia.

7 thoughts on “Twist, Oliver Twist

  1. The more I look into epigenetics, the more sense it actually makes. Of course, I’m of the opinion that determinism of any kind is nonsense. Everyone is the cumulative product of choice, after choice, after choice. Even if I’m wrong on that count, I’d rather live under the delusion that I have some control.

    • I can argue both sides of that. I can argue that the only species with free will is human and can also argue that the only species to not have free will is human. I think it depends on how much the amygdala holds sway over the cerebral cortex. It would appear from some studies that the male of the species is slightly less subject to amygdala hijack but those who are subject can be turned into deadly weapons with no particular free will at all. That said, I have to believe that knowing how this works offers some protection unfortunately even knowledge isn’t a fool proof amygdala hijack immunology. It turns out that the most educated of us are actually more invested in our cognitive dissonance than the less educated a.k.a., the more I learn the less I know.

  2. I have been near some of our ‘Masters’, briefly, in my career, and could have become closer to them if I had demeaned myself. I didn’t, and I am happy not to be trapped by the trappings. Eating had nothing to do with i,his story but I have always eaten lotsa meat when I could and can. Just polished off three large lamb chops. Yum!..

    • The good thing about growing older is I am less attractive to wealthy individuals who desire to exploit me. No compensation is enough to compensate for loss of self respect. That’s not a slam against all persons of wealth only that indeed narcissistic exploiters of human capital tend to rise to the top.

      I love lamb chops! Must have wine.

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