My analysis shows they are inseparable. Power. Concubines. Money. Absolute power, a harem, and money stashed in anonymous accounts. I don’t want to offend the Swiss, but, you know, if it were a test and I asked you to insert “Swiss” at a proper place in the previous sentence you’d make no mistake. Oh, of course, palaces. Palaces to house the concubines and spend the money on interior design immortalizing the owner. I don’t have to add that most dictators prefer palaces with lots of columns, surrounded by parks with cascades of fountains. Did you hear Freud just stirred?
You’d think that’s enough? No. A dictator needs a constant, and ever-present reminder of his power. All dictators develop fetishistic preference for something, and this fetish gets blown-up by artists.
For artists, serving a dictator is often a blessing and comes as easily and naturally as swimming to a penguin. No more sleepless nights filled with thoughts about the meaning of life, universe, and lack of food. A dictatorship can’t exist if it doesn’t give simple answers to these questions, and rationed black caviar to the especially understanding.
Those artists who disagree are not artists. Psychiatrists would instantly know their diagnosis, and if they don’t, they are not psychiatrists. Go swipe the streets if you can’t offer the right diagnosis when the People need it. Cleaning the streets is a noble job under a dictatorship, reserved for those people whose education prevents them from seeing simple truths.
Power fetishism began with the kings of the past. Look at that crown.
It is adorned with jewels so that no one could tell the king he looks like an erect prick with this hat on him. But he does. Or the sceptre, the rod a monarch must hold while attending an official function.
Queen Elisabeth II must feel ridiculous attired like that. No woman can be feminist enough to get dressed like a prick and feel adequate.
The royal fetish can be excused though. Modern kings may not even like or want it. They just have to be, y’know, traditional. Dictators develop their personal fetishes, and those can be blunt or subtle.
Stalin had a pipe.
Blunt. Take out the pipe, put tobacco inside, light it up, put it in the mouth, then puff out. Repeat. Mother’s tit and incest bottled together like shampoo and conditioner. Freud would roll up his eyes in frustration about its simplicity.
Hitler had that stupid gesture of a hand coming up in salutation. So obvious, it may not deserve a comment, had he not wanted women to do it as well. You know, a bit more sexual education in his youth and we might have had a happy watercolourist with a passion for domination games instead of what he evolved into.
Lenin was subtle. His fetish was a soft peaked cap.
When Lenin was portrayed in his cap, it would symbolise his withdrawal from the people into the world of his ideas. Like a UFO enthusiast who puts on a foil cap to get protected from unsolicited alien mind-reading; who lives, by and large, within his own universe. Lenin Capped was a portrait of Leninism.
When Lenin was shown without his cap (and in this case, the cap was often shown clenched in his hand) it was all about the unprotected sex with the people. Uncapped Lenin was a man, who’d pulled off his symbolic condom to take his people raw and sensually, and thus spawn his ideas onto the Proletariat Masses. Look at how the Uncapped Lenin was usually presented. He was offering his metaphysical manhood to the people.
Now, the North Korea. I’ve looked and looked and looked. First, I thought it was about Kim’s hands in his pockets.
But then, bang, I’ve got it. The white undercollar. The most subtle. The absolute winner!
Something that needs to be changed as often as a few times a day. Sewn on by a dozen virgins who get to become the youngest Party members, and are replaced each Friday by the army top brass. Why the army? I can’t imagine how these generals get their medals otherwise! Some of the awards look to me distinctly as “For Five Years of Stitching the Leader’s Undercollar”, and then for 10 years, and so on.
I am sure something is done to Kim’s underpants as well. Generals are awarded special medals for that, the ones that are pinned to their trousers. I don’t think we want to know the details.
Now, why the undercollar? It symbolises the hand of the virgin that massages the head of the leader at its base to make the head constantly erect with thoughts about the welfare of the People. I think. I can’t fathom any other explanation.
Alas, I don’t have anything to write about Mr Putin. The opposition claims he’s got 18 palaces (some of them with lots of columns and fountains) and loyal friends who bookkeep his uncountable billions. Well, he seems to almost qualify, but I can’t find his daily fetish. It doesn’t manifest itself in an obvious way. So, no, he’s not a dictator. No fetish, no dictator.
Russian artists, on the other hand, are in a constant search for it, like Russia’s president of the Arts Academy, Zurab Tzereteli. This statue’s name is “Healthy spirit in healthy body”. Very North Korean school, and I don’t think Mr Putin likes it.
So, to brand someone as a dictator, you first need to identify his fetish. Among other things, of course, for everyone is aware of Clinton’s penchant for cigars, but that does not make him a dictator. Just a prick.
See you soon for some amazing public art (sculpture) from Russia! You’d love it. Guaranteed.