9/11 Is A Joke.
Thanks to the Oscars, I’ve now sworn off of movies entirely. I’m paralyzed by the fear that should I see a good one, it’s going to end up as part of a lame montage sequence that plays like a cut Tonight Show sketch. And film isn’t the first art form I’ve abandoned. The last vestiges of my love of music died with the first Strokes record, forcing me to blow out my left eardrum with Darkthrone’s Transylvanian Hunger album so I’d never hear another recycled Stooges riff again, and The Simple Life actually made my TV dumber, so now all it plays is FOX News and So You Want To Be A Millionaire. I haven’t read a word since glancing at the back-cover copy of The DaVinci Code, and I’ve long since given up on pornography, choosing instead to masturbate to the obituaries in my local newspaper, a practice which is helped along by their close proximity to pictures of newborns in the Births section.
So, instead, I’ve decided to only watch films that directly oppose all the conventions of traditional narrative cinema. As black metal is to music, as abstract art is to landscapes, as Jerry Bruckheimer is to humanity, so is 911 in Plane Site to regular films. This movie is the outsider art of documentary, an abomination made by the retarded. Yet, as with retarded art, it’s perversely fascinating, like a sculpture made out of feces in a home for the mentally ill. I didn’t think I could find a worse documentary than Fahrenheit 9/11 until I saw Fahrenhype 9/11, but even that load has been topped by 911 in Plane Site, mainly by the obnoxious title alone. I mean, one pun is enough of a father-in-law joke as it is, but two is just uncomfortable and awkward.
911 in Plane Site is a film that uncovers the truth behind the events of September 11th, 2001, which is that a bunch of crazy people flew planes into buildings so that even crazier people could make money selling DVDs to even crazier people. But, as usual, I’m just taking the piss to be contrary. There’s a lot about the “terrorist” attacks that’s suspicious to the critical thinker, and despite all the “evidence” that’s been put forth by the government controlled “news” organizations, most people in their hearts know that something’s screwy, and that they need to use apostrophes so their delicious sarcasm will read well. But there’s just too much contradictory “information” out there for me to sort through on my own, so I’ll just defer to narrator/host David Von Kleist, who draws upon his expert training in being a lunatic internet talk show host to sift through several unreliable websites and come up with the truth. Apparently, it’s obvious from several still photos that a plane never hit the Pentagon, and if you slow down the footage of the World Trade Center attacks and watch it enough times, you can clearly see a second shooter on the grassy knoll. Combine all this startling research with 52 minutes of a guy sitting at a desk breezing through logical fallacies while reading off of cue cards slightly to the left of the camera, and you’ve got yourself a convincing documentary.
There’s a great deal of nothing in this documentary. Von Kleist has a great deal of non-existent evidence that he uses to prove his point, which is nothing. He just doesn’t believe what every one else does, for no reason other than to be contrary. He offers no explanation, just a bunch of mumbo jumbo easily refutable by anyone with the magical powers of logic. But there’s no way to convince any Lone Gunmen of that. The best part about arguing with conspiracy theorists is that any evidence you provide to contradict their claims can be easily refuted by them saying that it’s fake, like everything in the world is part of some vast lie and they just happened to find the Angelfire-hosted website that holds the truth in a couple of grainy, doctored photographs. It’s like arguing with a Creationist, or a woman; rationality or big words don’t work, and eventually you just give up. And move on to the obituaries.