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JOE HILL — NOS4A2 — TV SERIES — AMAZON PRIME SEASON 1–2019

Of course, the old Rolls Royce is a rewriting of the famous Christine by a certain Stephen King. Joe Hill has been all along under the proper influence. The car is absolutely attached to a man who thinks he is Father Christmas and he has to liberate all the kids who are suffering under the rule of their parents (singular or plural does not matter, separated, married, divorced or widowed does not matter either, though gay and lesbian are out. Parents are seen as altogether wrong, some being evil, other being unconscious, some more maybe procrastinating so much about their fate, curse or doom in life that they raise their children as monsters who will never be in any way happy.

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You thus have the two main themes of the series that were the two main themes of the novel. First the myth of Christmas every day and Christmas as the paradise for young people. Permanent Christmas is also magic, or rather witchcraft. The kids who are liberated from their parents are simply transformed into some kind of sharp-teethed vampiristic cannibals who enjoy being children forever and just expect their Father Christmas to bring them a good juicy adult dinner in the shape of a man or a woman they can devour, literally devour, revealing that in the desire for pleasure and entertainment in all kids there is a cruel, criminal, savage, wild, blood-thirsty side that can come out any time at all.

The second theme which is supposed to be the cause of this Christmas Land’s existence is the fact that all parents are sickos in disguise and that they are torturing their own children all the time, minute after minute, day and night with rules and duties, obligations and chores. It kills the fun of life and leave the kids dry-hearted and bored to death by the humdrum routine of this life where they ought to have to be obliged to be forced to do what they don’t want to do. We are not speaking of perverse pedophilia here, but of simple everyday absolutely correct and amenable cherishing action like feeding, loving, taking care of their children. It turns just giving a glass of milk to a child into a criminal and murderous act that negates the child’s freedom to desire, take and appropriate for his or her sole pleasure and benefit, whatever his fancy may fall upon, even if it is simply the flesh and blood of some appetizing living body.

The series shows marvelously that redemption, or at least some protection can only come from high school students in senior year or high school flunkies who are nothing but vagrant misshapen souls and individuals who can only pretend to be something useful for others so they can survive from the pittance they are provided with. And if they don’t find themselves satisfied with this lot, they just have to become anarchists or even worse, hooligans, drifters, thieves, shoplifters, delinquents of one sort or other, my own son might say political activists or prison inmates.

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The redeemers are attached to the use of a motorbike to be able to navigate in space and time and they all have some kind of shortcoming, or is it a unique and genial power or dimension, that enables them to know what to do or where things are and how to retrieve them. The main empowered people are girls, one with a magic motorbike, one with a sack of scrabble tiles that can read the future and tell you what to do, and they attract marginal boys who are not the brilliant representatives of society. They are kind of rejected or at least pushed or brushed aside, hence flunkies by segregation, or black, or fat if not obese, or over-violent. They are not within the range of normalcy, which has to be white, male and moderately integrated in the striving blind American society that does not ask silly questions that may embarrass your soul or your social prestige.

It is thus the fight between these supernatural forces, these marginalized super-qualities and super-powers on one hand and the evil always-lurking-about destructive, possessive, dominating ambitious people who want the whole world to be at their service, at their feet,; licking their shoes, and repeating over and over again, “Yessir (of course since they can only be men) Mister Master Sir, right away I will serve you diligently and obediently.” And all around this fight between these two groups of super good or super evil heroes, the mass of the people refuse to see, refuse to believe, but Joe Hill adds one female detective who decides, for her own reasons going back to her infancy and premature birth, to believe, though discreetly, nearly in secret.

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If you let yourself go into the magic of this story, you will spend a tremendous amount of time enjoying the supernatural and the super monstrous. And I am sure you will find bliss and happiness in real virtual life.

Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

JOE HILL — NOS4A2–2013

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Joe Hill is settling accounts with life and he seems to have a lot. The slave maker in this world is an old Rolls Royce car of the 1930s and the Savior of this world is a Raleigh bike and a couple of Harley Davidson and Triumph motorbikes. He does not really like Father Christmas. He prefers the reindeers and the snowmen. And be sure the Moon is not any motherly figure but the great master of this world of total liberation known as Christmasland. Let’s sing together the debunking of all mothers, and respect the exclamation marks on that one:

“In Christmasland we’ll build a Snowgirl!

And make believe that she’s a silly clown!

We’ll have lots of fun with Missus Snowgirl!

Until the other kiddies cut her down!”

If you have the guts and the courage to enter one of the most cruel and gory book I have read lately (that definitely makes Stephen King the father look pale with his trilogy horrify / terrify / gross-out), put on your lifejacket and body armor and dive into this maelstrom of aggressive violence that is only believable if you are convinced there is a passage between this world of landscapes and the other world of your own secret inner landscapes, or inscapes. We all have an inscape, or several, but some of us have the tool to get into it and to bring into it the young boys and girls that will enable us to remain young forever, to rejuvenate ourselves with the youth of these children. That is not cruel at all for these children because that’s the only thing they want: to play all the time, to unwrap presents all the time, to indulge in games all the time, provided these games enable them to kill after some nice torturing sessions one or two adults a day, a night, a minute even if they would be listened to and followed into their own deeper impulses. Childhood innocence is an infantile deadly lethal disease.

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It is impossible to even try to give you a spoiler about this story because it is so twisted, perverted and logically illogical that I would sound like a ranting, raving and roving fool if I even and only tried to select one single spoiler about it.

So, let me remain simple. Joe Hill loves mothers, that’s obvious and the mother, Victoria, aka Vic, of the main character, a child of course named Bruce Wayne (a mixture of Bruce Lee and John Wayne, Joe Hill’s phantasms guaranteed), has to be sacrificed after she has fulfilled her only task, saving her son from the grasp of the monster Charlie Manx (don’t try to see Mannix in this one because he is evil and the good FBI agent is a female: Tabitha — like Joe Hill’s mother — Hutter — nothing to do with the Anabaptist Jacob Hutter, or in fact maybe perhaps everything to do with him).

The only redeeming character in this family, I mean the family of this poor Bruce Wayne, an unmarried family what’s more, Bruce Wayne being a child out of wedlock, a poor child who has all the stigmata of perdition, the only redeeming character thus is the father, Louis, aka Lou (no allusion to Louis Armstrong since he is not black nor Lou Reed, though this one is more difficult to justify) Carmody. We expect to have the triplets Huey, Dewey and Louie, but the other two, besides Louis, are two girls, Lorrie and Millie, the daughters of the Monster Charlie who is the fourth wheel of the cart, except if we see the triplets in Lorrie, Millie and Charlie, and Louis then is the fourth wheel of the cart since he carries an “s” at the end of his name and not an “e.”

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Don’t be surprised if the way to this Christmasland is in three stages: The House of Sleep, the House of Sleigh and finally Christmasland itself. Sleep is for the parents who are tortured into nonexistence to save their own children with dental anesthetic gas that tastes like gingerbread. The Sleigh is for the children to slide into Christmasland in one swooping slip into the dream, in the Rolls Royce of course since it is the sorcerer of the story that extracts the youth of the children to invest and implant it into Charlie Manx. Goody good and sweet candy.

Apparently under the influence of Joe Hill’s mother — so the author says — the last chapter was rewritten and the final destruction of all the children who were captured and abducted by the Rolls Royce, NOS4A2, the modern Nosferatu, the postmodern vampire, are finally redeemed though we can imagine the end was their total annihilation. No future indeed. We can thank Tabitha King for this last page of redemption.

The book is going to appeal to your deep sense of cruelty because that’s the main characteristic of man according to Joe Hill: man is cruel to all other human beings and to himself too. Don’t bother with women since they are only the salvaging character who has to be sacrificed to achieve the final salvation of the child. You understand then why the father is Lou, aka Louis. He is an eternal child, especially after he was cleaned up of his mountain of excessive fat. He is a child. And the FBI agent, Tabitha Hutter, can only be the merger of a mother, who will have to be sacrificed when she is finished with salvaging some kids, and a puritan punisher who will have to be sidetracked in her attempt to prevent children from being cruel as they naturally are, should be and have to be.

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And don’t expect the Moon to be a motherly character. She is the voice of vengeance and revenge against parents commanding the redeemed children to kill all adults. That moon who is a pure male in the deepest gender tradition of the Germans does not hesitate on words:

“GET HER! KILL HER! SHE CAME HERE TO END CHRISTMAS! KILL HER NOW!”

“SHE’S DOWN, SHE’S DOWN, CUT HER, KILL HER!”

“SCISSORS-FOR-THE-DRIFTERS! SCISSORS-FOR-THE-BITCH!”

There is only one shortcoming in this book. It is maybe slightly too short. The author used a couple of shortcuts here and there to make the trip hold within seven hundred pages. Maybe a couple more hundred pages might have made our pleasure last longer.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU

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SLIGHTLY MALE-CENTERED, GOD AND HIS TWO APOSTLES, BUT WHERE IS THE HOLY VIRGIN ?
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Written by

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, PhD in Germanic Linguistics (University Lille III) and ESP Teaching (University Bordeaux II) has been teaching all types of ESP

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