HAVE YOU GOT YOUR MOTOR RUNNING?

 

I watched Easy Rider last night on Netflix. It has stood up pretty well for a low budget 'indie' film that's now 55 + years old.

I first saw this when I was young - either in 1970 when I was in the 7th form at college or 1971 at first year of university. I might be wrong but I don't think it was screened in New Zealand of the year it was released in USA - 1969.

I remember it as being pivotal - unsettling really. Apart from the scenes of delicious hippie women 'practising' free love the message coming through was about breaking free of restrictions and 'heading off onto the highway'. and hit a spot (see Richard's Bass Bag for an unsatisfactory explanation of that term ... hey! I''m feeling generous, here's a link: HITTING SOMETHING).

Yes, I know, most of it was fatuous and idealistic fantasy, sugar-coating the hippie movement and counter (drug) culture movement that was anything but free, progressive and beautiful but .... I was in my late teens OK?

I had no and still don't have any affinity with drug-dealing bikies or anyone making money from the misery of others. I certainly don't have any affinity with narrow-minded, red-necked arseholes like the ones who murdered the 'Easy Riders' in the film but ... I did then and still did, last night, appreciate the exchange between the Jack Nicholson (George) character and The Dennis Hopper character (Billy) after they had had a confrontation in a cafe.

At a campsite, out of town, they talked about how the locals (including the cops) threatened them and made them leave town. George banged on about how USA used to be a great country. Billy agreed and told George about how he and the Peter Fonda character (Wyatt) were refused a room at a crappy motel because of  how they looked*.  Here's a transcript of their following dialogue:

George: “Oh, they’re not scared of you. They’re scared of what you represent to ‘em.”

Billy: “Hey man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody needs a haircut.”

George: “Oh no. What you represent to them is freedom.”

Billy: “What the hell’s wrong with freedom, man? That’s what it’s all about.”

George: “Oh yeah, that’s right, that’s what it’s all about, all right. But talkin’ about it and bein’ it – that’s two different things. I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace. ‘Course, don’t ever tell anybody that they’re not free ‘cause then they’re gonna get real busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are. Oh yeah, they’re gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom, but they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ‘em.”

Billy: “Mmmm, well, that don’t make ‘em runnin’ scared.”

George: “No, it makes ‘em dangerous.”

Man (sorry about the hippie vernacular)! That is just as relevant today as it was 55 years ago. As you many (well, two) readers know I've been following the American political scene for the last nine years and reported through my blog posts of how there has been a disturbing rise of right-wing, almost fascist thinking that has been both stimulated and supported by the Donald Trump-led Republican party. This is dangerous not only to the (maybe deserving) Americanas but to everyone on our planet.

Think about it. The usually unseen supporters of the Trump movement are stupid aspirationalists who only pick up on the buzz words he says in his speeches like: no gun control; drain the swamp; no abortions; freedom; jobs for everyone in coal, oil and cars; Jesus loves us; I love you ... you know the rest. They have latched onto Trump's slogan of Make America Great Again (and are too ignorant to know that both Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton both used that slogan in their electioneering) and wear red hats stating this. They are known as MAGA idiots who complain that they don't have the freedom they remember when they were younger. They are as deluded as the red-neck murderers in the film.

* When we attended the Whanganui (back then is was Wanganui) folk festival in the early 1970s a group of us drove into Raetahi for a meal and a beer. When we went into the local pub the red-neck-type locals stared at us young, long-haired students as if we were from out of space. Richard hadn't even become a Wainuiomartian then). It was like the diner scene in the film. We felt uneasy and left after one beer.