Tony Soprano never did this

What a pleasure to stumble across this little ditty in a book entitled L’Europe des Sociétés Secrètes, published by Sélection du Reader’s Digest in 1980. Called the Initiation of a Mafioso,  it is presented here in its entirety, translated from the French.  Anyone who can shed further light on the provenance of this initiation is invited to comment. It would appear to be from the 1800's, but sadly, no details were included with the description of the ritual.

Initiation of a Mafioso

After having vaunted the merits of the fraternity and saluted the godfathers, the initiate, bound, had to enumerate the reasons for which he desired to become a fratello. On the table placed before him were found several objects: a miniature saint, a crucifix, a candle, matches, a pistol and several cartridges. The candle was lit.

“For my brothers, I pass my hand through the flame” the initiate swore as he performed the motion with the “hand of the heart,” that is to say, the left.

Then he offered his right hand, which one godfather held while another picked the thumb with a needle.

“I swear on my honor to be loyal to the fraternity and to spill for it, if necessary, my last drop of blood.”

Once this oath was pronounced, the image of the saint was smeared with the bloody thumb.

“What time is it?” demanded a voice from the shadows.

“Half-past, by my watch” replied the initiate.

“Since when have things been going badly?”

“Since the 25 of March, day of the Annunciation.”

“What were you doing on that day?”

“I was dancing with the devil.”

“And what do you worship if you are not the son of the Virgin Mary?”

“The Sun and the Moon” replied the initiate irreverently.

“What then is your God?”

“Aremi!” he then exclaimed, making reference to chance and one of the four card games popular in Sicily in the 19^th century.

The candle was then blown out brusquely by one of the godfathers and the room plunged into darkness. Another was lit, illuminating a crucifix at the other end of the room.

“Initiate, prove your loyalty.”

It was then the moment for him to take hold of the pistol placed on the table and fire on the crucifix, crying:

“I will not hesitate to kill anybody, neither God nor my beloved wife.”

“There are a hundred who have passed before you.  Like these hundred and the first after you, do you swear to protect all of those who came before you and who will come after?”

“I swear it. And as the blood leaving my hand cannot return there, nor the burnt wax return to the wick, I will remain always a loyal brother to the fraternity and a pitiless enemy to its adversaries.”

Then several brothers advanced to free the initiate from his bonds.

“What are the three virtues of a brother of the Mafia?”

“Honor, duty, courage!” the newcomer proudly cried.

He was then taught the handshake which served as a sign of recognition: the right hand held with the index finger folded to touch the palm of the other with a circular motion, as each one said:

“Under my roof it does not rain.”

Then the initiate was clothed in the traditional garb of the old Mafia: black beret embroidered in silk and elegant jacket of black velour.  This uniform, too visible, disappeared around the middle of the 19^th century. 

Translation by Daurade

INLAND EMPIRE: drunken musings

First point to consider is that most “big” Hollywood directors wanted to be filmmakers. And while they may have been in love with film as a primary artistic vehicle, they were still preoccupied with storytelling.

David Lynch’s early films were not stories at all, but film loops presented and or commissioned as art installations.

Lynch’s first artistic goal was to be a painter.

Recently, he has said: “I want to create a never-ending loop that never repeats itself.”

....

Most reviews say the same thing; the movie is not to be deciphered. It is an experience.

The film abandons “narrative” in any sense that can be put into words. Film here, while not “pure,” (blegh) is divorced from the narrative dictates of the novel that Hollywood seems to demand. Hollywood is his theme. It continues an arc begun with Lost Highway and taken to a more complicated but still primarily bicameral (brain) structure in Mulholland Drive. Inland Empire is at least tricameral.

The film’s credits open with a movie projector beam highlighting the title. We are drawn to the fact that this is a movie. The “identity” of the film is established: projected light in darkness.

....

If it is up to everyone to determine the “meaning” of the film for themselves--which Lynch seems to have tacitly acknowledged by refusing to shed light on his intentions--then attempts to interpret or otherwise explain the film are futile.

It’s significance rests in the experience of the film. What each viewer brings to it, and what each viewer’s expectations, feelings and physical condition at the time of viewing determine what the “meaning” may be.

....

If an intelligible interpretation cannot immediately be made, we are left with sensation and emotional response. The film disorients not only with techniques of (audiovisual) editing and narrative disjunction, but with emotional dissonance. One literally doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Patently absurd histrionics still disturb. Ridiculous images still cause a sense of apprehension. One laughs at horrible things. Doubt is cast.

The film represents a kind of device for exploding normal sensibility and expectations surrounding received Hollywood tropes to shake us out of a complacent viewing posture.

The relationship between the cinema and the dream comes out of nowhere, with bells on. The oneiric condition continues beyond the screen. One leaves disoriented. This is augmented by the unusual length of the film, not to tell an overly complex story, but to overload the senses in order to manipulate the emotions and destroy the craving for logic.

....

Even with such apparent chaos and confusion, repetition and wormholes in time abound. Despite three hours of motion, we are in fact immobile in chairs, static. Cinema is a medium of time. Painting is a medium of space. Inland Empire attempts to reconcile the two and partially succeeds.

The length of the film accentuates the stasis and dynamism. David Lynch is fascinated with the loop: stasis and repetition within the confusion and situational meaning of events. The moviegoer is not used to ambiguity, not really used to the schizophrenia of characters except as a narrative device. Rarely is the whole act of going to the cinema so violently interrogated. Telling is that in this “film” Lynch has abandoned film but opted instead for commercially available digital technology.

There are many viewers. The film’s multiple identities don’t even begin to do this justice.

....

Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and It’s a small world.

....Straight Story....Some kind of heads up?

Potential Book Titles #1

1. Everybody’s Ready But the Ghosts
2. No Tengo Ganas
3. They Cut Off My Head
4. Pissing in God's Water
5. The Tyranny of Speed