District 9 almost a tacit comment on V

[Caruthers612]

    Perhaps because I just posted a reply to MV's thread about V, and only recently watched District 9, the following utterly profound, patent-pending thought just struck me.

    One of the pithy and wry observations made at the beginning of District 9 was that, in contrast to the universally long-established assumptiong that if "They" ever arrived, Their ships would land on the White House lawn, or in London, or some other center of Western Civilization, the ship featured in District 9 appeared over Johannesburg, SA, of all places. What occurs in the movie that follows brings home the significance of this--to me, anyway, because I've spent time in South Africa, and since my oldest friend is from there, and I am quite familiar with details of the social, political and economic life of that country--most of this not obvious to the uninitiated.

      So, naturally, I thought of V, with its portrayal, indeed, of this very sci-fi chestnut, Their mighty ships appearing and hovering over all the world's major cities. Obviously, the two stories are unrelated and this aspect of V is natural to it. Still, having experienced the vivid alternate version of this tale so well drawn by D9, I couldn't help but note the contrast and enjoy a wry giggle.

      Well aware that to some site members, this post will seem to contain all the nutritional content of cotton candy, I can only urge, to those interested, a greater familiarization with South African life--and, of course, those radiant Dutch-Afrikaaners like our girl Vandervoot. ;-)

    Take it from a guy who's traveled SA--it is a land containing a secret bevy of Master Race specimens nauseating in their perfection--Charlize Theron, Laura Vandervoot (heritage if not place of birth), and Christian Bale being a few examples. And like their Scandinavian, Dutch and German counterparts, they are blithely unaware of the evolutionary triumph of combinatory genetics that is their inheritance. Oblivious, equally, are they to the contrast between their rarefied lives, across whose verdant lawns they float as untroubled as they are unaware of existence otherwise, on the one hand, and on the other, blinding effulgent Blakean vision, dread and boundless vista, mud plain across which on ugly belly slither the army of the bereft.

      Man, I'm good. :-0 Maybe I should write Hallmark cards. "On the occasion of your grandfather's death...May you dance an Irish jig on the old coot's grave as you reach out to clutch your share of the inheritence." "The loss of a child is that tragedy at whose borders all attempts to formulate solace become dissolute...But hey! In Kentucky, the three hundred grand you were gonna spend on the little rat's college tuition will buy you a hundred acres and a marble mansion complete with solarium and heated pool!"

M