Sunday, April 28, 2024

Lust for Unbridled, Uninterrupted Power is Making Modi Plumb the Depths


April 26, 2024
Source: The Wire


Credit: Pariplab Chakraborty

India must be the only republic where an 80% majority is constantly persuaded that it has everything to fear from a beleaguered 14% minority.

Much of the time not at a loss for words, this once I am.

Alas that my prime minister, touted to be the world’s most popular, strong, and influential leader, should think nothing of becoming a screaming, frightened fear-monger, mutilating facts with brazen disingenuity.

Modi is rattled no end by the surprising fact that the Indian National Congress, a political force which he correctly fears to be still his likely nemesis at the national level, has, after long years of ideological dithering, boldly and clearly conceived and formulated a manifesto of intent set to draw wide support among the masses whom his own dissembling has put to misery over a long, abrasive decade.

Unable to contest that manifesto on facts and substance, Modi has chosen the path of scurrilous distortion and sectarian hate.

In promising a socio-economic survey of all sections of Indians, the Congress is only drawing upon directive principles enshrined in Articles 38 and 39 of the Constitution, which counsel the State to “secure a social order for the promotion of welfare of the people” and in particular that inequalities of income be kept to a minimum; that monopolies must not be allowed to grow and prosper; and, “that the ownership and control of the material resources of the community are so distributed as best to subserve the common good.”

Imagine that the provisions of these two directive principles of state policy are hardly ever mentioned, except, predictably, by the Left, while another directive principle further down in the list, namely Article 44 (on the desirability in time of formulating a Uniform Civil Code for all Indian citizens), is thrown at us by a majoritarian dispensation with atomic force and urgency, the BJP government in Uttarakhand having already passed a law in this regard.

Contrary to Modi’s claims, nowhere on any of its pages does the Congress manifesto make a mention of the word “Muslim”, or refer to any other minority by name.

Nor, emphatically, does the manifesto anywhere say that the Congress will take assets and endowments away from the propertied and redistribute the same to the dispossessed, as if in a clumsy bulldozer grab familiar in Uttar Pradesh, or in the manner in which common citizens across the length and breadth of the country were precipitately ordered to dump their notes within hours from a lordly declaration, or lose their money altogether.

What it does say is that the future Congress government will seek to frame policies that may bring inequalities of income down, prevent monopolisation and crony capitalism, and reaffirm the right of the people to the assets of the land.

Thinking democratically, what could be more laudable as a programme? Is it not the case that hackles have gone up precisely because thinking democratically seems now a long-lost habit of governmental mind?

That said, our prime minister has chosen to take recourse to embarrassing disinformation and scare-mongering, going even as far to propagate, in theatrical demagoguery, that the Congress means to take away all the gold and silver that people may have and give these away to “infiltrators” and those who produce the most children – by which he meant Muslims.

Indeed, he has thought nothing of carrying his theatrics to warn (Hindu) women that the evil Congress, were it to come to power, will take away their mangalsutras (a gold chain usually worn by married women as a prized mark of being wedded) and give those also away to you know who.

Alas that a prime minister could have fallen so low.

There is of course the speculation sounded by many commentators that the first round of voting to 102 parliamentary seats may have gone heavily against the ruling party, causing the screechy panic of his oratory.

Were he as superbly confident of garnering those 400+ seats which he has been broadcasting day in and day out, all issuing from his personal guarantee, surely he might have dismissed speculations about the first round of voting as opposition hogwash.

But no, the state of Modi’s no-holds-barred resolve to play the most unbecoming card among Hindu women suggests that there may be substance to the speculation after all.

Unhappily for him, the combined opposition seems this once not to be cowed down, even as it lacks the means to meet ruling party media and other propagation.

Nor is desperation among ruling scions mitigated by ground reports that Hindutva temple politics may have had its day among the masse, leaving only a cultist base voter to hold the sack.

Not in any position to meet the opposition on his economic performance vis à vis the disenfranchised millions – some 80% of the populace –what recourse has Modi but to go after the one minority population whom the right-wing happily exploits for its political survival, without being thankful in return.

Imagine, had there been no Muslims in India, the BJP may never have attained state power.

The favourite English word of the right-wing is “appeasement”, and its favourite ploy is to accuse the secular opposition, the Congress especially, of ‘appeasing’ the Muslim ‘vote bank’.

The assumption, dating all the way from the days of the Hindu Mahasabha led by Savarkar, is that Muslims live here on sufferance as people whose claim to being nationals on an equal footing with the Hindus must remain in question until they learn to become Hindus in cultural and religious doctrines and practices.

Who may bring the news to the right-wing that the word “appeasement” was used first in the 1930s by Europeans who thought Hitler and the Nazis were being propitiated by weak British and French regimes through conciliatory treaties, so that the storm-trooping expansion of Nazism could be held in check.

Thus, the epistemology of the word clearly suggests that it is the strong who are sought to be appeased, not the weak – in our case, the majority Hindu population.

The word, thus, has quite the opposite connotation of what the BJP/RSS seek to propagate, although the appeasement of the Hindu majority here is not directed at keeping their suzerainty in check but, indeed, to elevate it to the definition of nationhood.

India must be the only republic where an 80% majority is constantly persuaded that it has everything to fear from a beleaguered 14% minority.

And how well this nonsensical stratagem has been pressed into service by an economic and social minority to keep in place its stranglehold over the resources of the land connotes the history of India, from the colonial period onwards.

Is it possible that this inverted jinx may find its comeuppance in the election results? Draw your breath in pain till we know.



Badri Raina is a well-known commentator on politics, culture and society. His columns on the Znet have a global following. Raina taught English literature at the University of Delhi for over four decades and is the author of the much acclaimed Dickens and the Dialectic of Growth. He has several collections of poems and translations. His writings have appeared in nearly all major English dailies and journals in India.
India’s Billionaire Wealth Is on Display as Nation Votes

India’s Ambani family has enjoyed flaunting its obscene wealth, a perfect reminder in the midst of an election, of the economic inequality afflicting voters.



April 27, 2024
Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.


Indian poverty can not be wished away.



There are several exercises in extremes playing out in India right now. Nearly a billion people are voting in elections that will last into early June, braving record-high temperatures to cast ballots. Against this backdrop, Asia’s richest man, Mukesh Ambani, is throwing what will likely be the world’s most expensive wedding for his youngest son.

Although they appear unrelated, these phenomena are intimately linked.

With 1.4 billion people, India now has the largest population of any nation in the world, surpassing China in 2023. It is also the world’s largest democracy, a title it has held since the end of British colonial rule in 1947. India’s secular democracy has eroded, particularly since 2014 when the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)’s leadership ushered in a dawn of Hindu supremacy in a nation that is home to many different faiths.

Much like the Christian right in the United States blended religious fervor with capitalist fundamentalism, the BJP has cloaked its pro-business position in saffron robes. And, just as American billionaires embrace the white supremacist Donald Trump, India’s wealthy seem unperturbed by incumbent Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s hate-filled speeches.

Indian corporate interests are counting on incumbent Modi winning another five years in office, “hoping for further easing of stifling investment restraints,” as per the Financial Times. This dismantling of regulations, which began a few decades before the BJP gained power, ushered in an erosion of India’s socialist infrastructure. Economists Subhashree Banerjee and Yash Tayal explained in the Deccan Herald, that India’s 1991 reforms ended up “liberalizing the Indian economy to an unprecedented extent. These reforms facilitated an environment for the wealthy to profit from the less-affluent without repercussions.”

The BJP accelerated this trend so that India, which housed nine billionaires in 2000, was home to 101 by 2017. According to Oxfam, “The top 10 percent of the Indian population holds 77 percent of the total national wealth,” and “73 percent of the wealth generated in 2017 went to the richest 1 percent, while 670 million Indians who comprise the poorest half of the population saw only a 1 percent increase in their wealth.” It’s clear that deregulation helped catapult the rich into greater riches while keeping India’s poor relatively impoverished.

Sitting atop this inglorious dung heap of billionaires is Mukesh Ambani, who is not only India’s richest man, but the wealthiest person in all of Asia—the world’s largest continent. He is also the world’s 11th richest man. And he appears to feel no shame in having spent $152 million for a three-day extravaganza in early March celebrating the coming nuptials of his youngest son.

Yes, that’s correct. Twenty-nine-year-old Anant Ambani’s “pre-wedding” festivities, which took place in Gujarat over three days (several months before the actual wedding), cost the equivalent of feeding nearly 50 million of India’s poorest citizens for a day. The groom-to-be’s mother sported a $60 million necklace to the party, while American pop icon Rihanna flew in to perform for guests for one-tenth of the cost of the jewels.

This brazen display of excess is oddly refreshing. Unlike many American billionaires who prefer hiding the perverse extent of their wealth, the Ambanis are delightfully honest in flexing their economic power for the world to see. The pre-wedding has generated countless headlines in India and in the world for its mind boggling lavishness—1,200 guests, including the world’s top CEOs and Bollywood’s most popular stars! More than 2,500 unique dishes including 70 breakfast options and 85 varieties of midnight snacks! Bespoke designer gowns dripping with pearls!

Forget Britain’s royal family, whose weddings appear humble in comparison—Harry and Meghan’s wedding cost a mere $43 million, cheaper than Mrs. Ambani’s necklace—India’s royalty is newly minted and unwilling to bow down at the altar of modesty.

The Ambanis’ conspicuous consumption has also generated endless derision from ordinary Indians who are having a field day lambasting the family’s apparent need for such profligacy on social media. One popular YouTube channel spent more than 13 minutes gleefully delving into every over-the-top detail, ridiculing the ridiculous.

There seemed to be at least some semblance of an attempt by the wealthy family to thwart the inevitable public criticism. Forbes reported that the festivities were held against the backdrop of a wildlife sanctuary called Vantara, which apparently is “the manifestation of Anant’s vision for a brighter future for the animal kingdom, from spreading awareness on the mistreatment of animals to working to breed near-extinct species.”

A friend of the happy couple told Forbes that, “The events brought incredible exposure and shone a spotlight on the good work that’s been done, and also spread the message on the state of animals in the world and the challenges to overcome in improving their welfare.”

Was it charity, shame, or public relations that prompted such a ludicrous juxtaposition as justification? We may never know.

Meanwhile, the defenders of corporate profiteering in India’s business-friendly atmosphere have enjoyed a public relations coup with the release of a long-overdue report by the BJP government earlier this year claiming that poverty in India now afflicts only 5% of the population. The report spawned such wild conclusions by publications like the Brookings Institute as “[d]ata now confirms that India has eliminated extreme poverty,” promoting the wild idea that predatory capitalism is good for Indian democracy.

But critics point out that the report’s numbers have been massaged to align with the BJP’s reelection efforts so as to paint the government as having achieved the near-impossible. According to Princeton economist Ashoka Mody, “While the publication of India’s first consumption figures in over a decade has generated much excitement, the official data appear to have been chosen to align with the government’s preferred narrative.”

Mody eloquently surmised, “[W]hile such misuse of statistics will amplify the India hype in elite echo chambers, poverty remains deeply entrenched in India, and broader deprivation appears to have increased as inflation erodes incomes of the poor.”

The “elite echo chambers” he references are very real. One Indian billionaire, NR Narayana Murthy, argued for a 70-hour work week in India (even as Americans are now debating working for less than half that time). A tech mogul and co-founder of Infosys, Murthy happens to be the father-in-law of UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak. He complained on a podcast that “India’s work productivity is one of the lowest in the world,” and that the nation’s youth ought to be saying, “This is my country. I’d like to work 70 hours a week.’”

India’s political and financial elites are painting a gold-plated vision of a modern Gilded Age: Because billionaires are saving wildlife from extinction it’s okay for them to obscenely flaunt their wealth, and meanwhile everyone’s fortunes are rising through hard work!

But the strongest evidence that this vision is a lie is for Indians to see their own lives against the Ambanis’. Nearly a billion Indians will finish casting ballots about a month before their “royal family” jet sets off to London for the youngest heir’s actual nuptials, to be held at the exclusive Stoke Park estate. If there’s anything voters can be grateful for, it is that their nation’s wealthy elites are busy reminding them of how little they have in comparison and how morally bankrupt a system is that allows such inequality.

This article was produced by Economy for All, a project of the Independent Media Institute.



Sonali Kolhatkar is an award-winning multimedia journalist. She is the founder, host, and executive producer of “Rising Up With Sonali,” a weekly television and radio show that airs on Free Speech TV and Pacifica stations. Her most recent book is Rising Up: The Power of Narrative in Pursuing Racial Justice (City Lights Books, 2023). She is a writing fellow for the Economy for All project at the Independent Media Institute and the racial justice and civil liberties editor at Yes! Magazine. She serves as the co-director of the nonprofit solidarity organization the Afghan Women’s Mission and is a co-author of Bleeding Afghanistan. She also sits on the board of directors of Justice Action Center, an immigrant rights organization.
Oregon’s Measure 110, A Brief Victory for Drug Decriminalization

April 26, 2024
Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.




Morgan Godvin is an internationally recognized expert on the topic of drugs and justice. She was a leading activist behind Oregon’s drug decriminalization law – Measure 110 – that passed in 2021, as a part of the momentum built by BLM. Measure 110 is now effectively repealed through Oregon’s recent re-criminalization laws passed by the legislature. Still, Measure 110 represents a significant victory, albeit a brief one, in the fight against the war on drugs. I sought out Morgan to discuss the measure, its connection with BLM and the recent repeal.

Q: Let’s begin with a brief background on measure 110.

A: Measure 110 is a ballot measure that passed in the state of Oregon. It does two very different things. It took our drug penalties down a rung – penalties that had previously been felonies became misdemeanors, and misdemeanors were moved down to a new class called a Class E violation, which is no longer a criminal offense, it is a civil offense. Separate from that, it also took our cannabis tax revenue, over a certain threshold and diverted it into a fund for drug treatment, harm reduction, peer services, supported employment and housing. It effectively decriminalized low level possession. For heroin and fentanyl, it’s one gram or less; for meth and cocaine, it’s two grams or less, anything above that is still a misdemeanor. If they are found to be in possession, they get this $100 fine. To waive the fine, all you have to do is get an assessment, at which point you will be offered various Voluntary Services connected to services out of that fund. For the first biennium, it was $300 million. That’s how much was injected into our substance use services fund here in the state of Oregon. And we’re a fairly small state, we only have 4 million people. So it was the largest ever single infusion of money into our drug treatment services.

Q: How is the difference between a violation, a misdemeanor and a felony significant from the point of view of the impact it has on people?

A: It is quite significant because of all of the collateral consequences that are reserved for felony convictions. So people with felony convictions lose their right to vote, depending on what state they’re in, and suffer quite literally 1000s of other collateral consequences, including they’re going to lose their right to own firearms, it’s going to be exceedingly difficult to find housing because in the United States, all rental housing performs background checks. Felonies also disqualify people from various government benefits, sometimes depending on what state they’re in, and sometimes not. So my drug felony disqualified me from tax credits for university education. So it is pretty substantial. The difference when you’re in jail, it feels the same whether you’re there for a misdemeanor or a felony, but after the fact the lifelong consequences are much more severe for felony level offenses.

Q: I wanted to talk about the link between measure 110 and the BLM Movement, specifically the defund movement. The idea behind defund was that police funding is excessive, we want to take some of that, and channel it towards social causes. In essence, measure 110 was doing the same thing. A large part of why police budgets are extremely high is because of the war on drugs. So by decriminalizing drug possession, you’re essentially undermining the basis of that funding. Do you see the same connection?

A: Measure 110 shrunk the footprint of the criminal justice system, by investing in upstream upfront services, which are quite literally crime prevention, instead of waiting for a crime to occur and punishing it. In

addition to the cannabis tax revenue written into the measure 110 was that any cost savings to the criminal justice system were to be reinvested back into the fund for services. To date, that’s been $39 million. This was above what anyone projected it to be. That money would have otherwise gone to policing or incarceration, so law enforcement do sometimes complain that

they had a budget reduction. In this sense, there are some ideological alignments with defund. But it didn’t affect baseline police budgets, which have remained consistent and are very high, like elsewhere.

Q: It’s been like three years since Measure 110 passed and it is now effectively repealed. How would you describe the state of affairs on the ground today that contributed to the repeal?

A: Things are incredibly challenging because we did not have fentanyl in our market until COVID hit. We were one of the last regions in the nation that still had black tar heroin. But the COVID lockdowns and specifically the border shut down with Mexico really accelerated our transition to fentanyl. While most markets did a pretty slow transition first, fentanyl was an adulterant in the heroin for several years, and then it started becoming a drug of choice. We went from a 100% Heroin market to a 95% fentanyl market in less than 12 months. It’s absolutely unprecedented. We are still dealing with the devastating effects of transitioning to a fentanyl market in 2021. Measure 110 increased our access to treatment and pretty substantially increased our access to harm reduction. Without that funding, it would be even worse. But we are not doing well. What we know is arresting people does not help. In fact, arrest and incarceration causes harm specifically, it’s a huge risk factor for overdose. So if we did literally nothing, it would be better than arresting people for drug possession. Measure 110 can’t fix everything. For instance, we simultaneously have a horrific housing crisis. But it was easy to scapegoat Measure 110.

Q: There’s been ideological pushback on measure 110 resulting in the repeal. Can you comment on that?

A: Well, people want to be able to arrest drug users. I mean, anybody who bought weed before 2016 understands that purchasing illegal drugs, morally is not equivalent to other things that we have deemed are crimes, it is not the same as stealing. But people are very upset that we cannot arrest drug users. They want a license to be able to arrest drug users. That is what criminalization is essentially, no one thinks that drug possession is actually a crime. But it’s much easier to arrest people instead of investigating real crimes. We have this impulse towards punitive response in the United States, that incarceration is the answer to all of our social ills.

People are frustrated with the situation on the street, and there is a lot to be frustrated about. We have rampant homelessness, fentanyl is killing us. But people want to arrest drug users, because they think that’ll fix it. Even though when you look at the other 49 states in this country, it’s quite obvious that doesn’t fix it. The entire nation is in the worst overdose crisis in human history. I think a lot of it just has to do with power and control. People who use drugs are some of the most marginalized, most stigmatized among us. And the response to people who are stigmatized is often to consider them a lesser class or less than human and call them a criminal and put them in handcuffs, strip them naked, tell them to spread their cheeks and cough, to other them, metaphorically and literally by setting them apart from society as if they are contagious. But that will not alleviate any of our problems, it will not reduce our overdose rate, it will not suddenly house the 10s of 1000s of people who are unhoused. But it will satisfy that base urge for vengeance that is very present in the American ethos.

Q: Any final words?

A: Addiction is defined as continued use despite negative consequences; increasing the negative consequences that people face will never decrease their addiction. And I’m speaking from personal experience, I was given multiple felonies for drug possession. Before my felonies, I was a student, I was an employee. Yes, I was struggling with heroin addiction. But it wasn’t until my contact with the criminal justice system and going to jail repeatedly that I was fired from my job, withdrew from all my classes, lost all of my legal streams of income, and fell deeper and deeper into the criminal underworld as my addiction spiraled. It was such a moment of pride for me to be able to get out of prison and be involved with measure 110, knowing that all of my friends who died of a heroin overdose were incarcerated repeatedly and it didn’t save them. I was incarcerated repeatedly, it did not save me. And then to be involved in this policy change that I thought was going to be revolutionary. That meant no other Oregonian would ever have to face what I face and what my friends faced, hoping that they could get treatment without having to go to prison, or without having to get traumatized first. People are able to get the treatment they need, the moment they need it, the moment they want it, making treatment as easy to get as drugs. It was one of the highlights of my life. I felt immense pride being involved in this measure, I continue to feel immense pride. It quite literally breaks my heart to see people wanting to go back to a system where people are incarcerated and are traumatized. When we know that addiction is so often a trauma response, layering on additional types of trauma, the collateral consequences that I mentioned earlier, making it even harder for people to access higher education, making it even harder for people to find stable and secure housing. People struggling with addiction need more help, yet under a scheme of criminalization, they get more barriers instead. It’s not that I don’t see the problem. The problem is very obvious. We are all experiencing it. But we have to agree that arrest is never a solution. 

Morgan Godvin serves on Oregon’s drug decriminalization Measure 110 Oversight and Accountability Council. A decade ago, she was arrested countless times and given two felonies for drug possession. Today, she is a narrative fellow at The Action Lab at Northeastern University. She is an engagement editor with JSTOR Daily, covering the American Prison Newspapers collection. She still lives in the city of her birth, Portland, Oregon.


On the Road with Sasquatch


 
 APRIL 26, 2024
Facebook
Two furry animals in the woods Description automatically generated

Sasquatch Sunset (Bleecker Street)

In the summer of 1983 Ted Kaczynski was feeling hemmed in even in remote Lincoln, Montana. “There were too many people around my cabin,” he later wrote, “So I decided I needed some peace.”

In search of the solace that only nature could provide him, he hiked up to a favorite remote spot far from the cars, trucks, RVs, chainsaws, and Americans that plagued him. “I went back to the plateau, and when I got there I found they had put a road right through the middle of it,” Kaczynski recounted. “You just can’t imagine how upset I was.”

Kacyznski’s rage was real. It was already explosive. He’d begun sending bombs through the mail five years earlier.

Although there were no witnesses to the Unabomber’s encounter with the newly built road, we can assume it wasn’t as visceral as the reaction to the same scenario by a trio of Big Foots—a companionable, low-IQ male (Jesse Eisenberg); a sensitive and resolute, female (Riley Keough); and an imaginative, even astute adolescent (Christophe Zajac-Denek)—in the latest film from brothers David and Nathan Zellner, Sasquatch Sunset. These hirsute hominids—the Sasquatches not the Zellners, though Nathan in full prosthetics plays the Harvey Weinstein alpha male who dominates, or tries to dominate, the opening stretch of the movie—emerge from the shadows of the redwoods and onto a dirt road packed hard and terrifyingly bright against the sunshine penetrating the cleft in the canopy.

The creatures have apparently never come across anything like this straight, flat, hard, horrible thing and they don’t have the mental faculties to deal with it. What literally strikes them first is the texture of the transformed earth under their outsized feet, its awful strangeness confirmed when they bend down to touch the surface with their hairy, knobbly fingers. The smell is alien too, the lingering residue of rubber and diesel, the whiff of that strangest, most lethal of threats: human beings.

After exploring the road tactilely, the current top male (emotionally more sensitive, Jesse Eisenberg’s character is hardly more acute than Nathan Zellner’s) looks up and sees that the roads runs straight through the woods to a vanishing point. This is even more terrifying than the touch of it. They see the doom of infinity. Turning around they learn that the road also extends unfathomably in the opposite direction and this drives them into a renewed freak-out. Each new blow of perception makes them forget the previous one. They turn back to the original direction and are horrified yet again that the road is still there.

After they’ve taken in the stimuli of sight and touch, the terrible truth sinks deeper into their bodies. All three begin explosively shitting and pissing and vomiting on top of the road. This is not an act of marking the violation with their scents, but an irrepressible, reflexive response to the incommensurability of this danger.

In his Et in arcadio ego, W. H. Auden also tries to get his mind around a road:

I well might think myself
A humanist,
Could I manage not to see

How the autobahn
Thwarts the landscape
In godless Roman arrogance

These apes aren’t quite human and certainly aren’t humanists, and unlike Kaczynski they didn’t go to Harvard at age sixteen. But in the bones of their big feet they know what they’re up against. Luckily, perhaps, their memories, individual and collective, are not long. They will tramp on.

Many reviewers seem to consider the extravagant excretions in this road scene a slapstick extravaganza. That’s part of the paradoxical pleasure of the cinema: the enjoyment of watching others, even if they are imaginary or mythic, suffering or literally scared shitless. But these Sasquatch antics are far more unsettling, and profoundly comic, when viewed as a mash-up of the eschatological and the scatological. Try to hold it in when you watch the live-feed of the Thwaites Glacier launching itself into the Amundsen Sea!

One shouldn’t be surprised that the urbanites of the New York Times and others clearcut the backcountry pathos and terror even while these hipster humanists rightly understand the movie as an allegory of extinction for a species (theirs) supposedly more advanced in evolutionary terms. Yet humans, whether clean-shaven or artfully beardsmithed, now appear doomed by the very same forces they have unleashed that will snuff out Sasquatch, or already have. The Sasquatch cohort never sees man or woman but discovers the results of their arts, sciences, and industry: that road; a tree marked for felling with a scarlet X; a bear trap with a denuded bone still in its iron jaws; a docile hen in a chicken-wire cage; rusted logging equipment.

When the Sasquatches come across a campsite in their woods the people who have apparently just set up are inexplicably nowhere to be seen or heard. The tent is shocking red and stocked with even more toxically colored junk food, that the hairy bi-peds tear into. There is also a bright yellow tape deck that, after some fiddling breaks into 1990s Brit synth-pop as garish as the snacks they’ve plundered. Presumably, they don’t know the band’s name, Erasure, which strikes those cineastes in the know as archly oracular, as does the song’s title and refrain “Love to Hate You.” The apogee of human art encountered by these supposedly inferior apes is thumping techno-pap. It drives the Sasquatch not to dance but to destruction.

The filmmaking brothers forage relentlessly through an undergrowth of cinematic allusion: 2001: A Space OdysseySometimes a Great NotionDeliverance, nature documentaries and the Bigfoot movies that came to our local theater on Bainbridge Island in the Pacific Northwest. But these winking gags and the physical comedy enacted by the human actors in their hairy, fleshy suits are shot through with terrifying melancholy. If we laugh at the Sasquatchian behaviors we are also laughing at ourselves, and it is a bitter Swiftian laugh. It isn’t only Donald Trump’s pussy-grabbing that the rampant libido of Zellner’s horny Sasquatch male sends up. The entire human species is enslaved by lust, not just for sex but for the domination of nature.

The Sasquatch have a language of monosyllabic grunts, groans and shrieks. Eisenberg’s beta-male tries, unsuccessfully, to count the stars. He can’t manage to tally the rings of a tree either, one which we humans, unlike the Sasquatches, know has been felled by a chainsaw.

But intellectual and imaginative advance is coming to the species, even if this evolutionary progress comes too late—or maybe too early. The adolescent Sasquatch has intuition and an imaginary companion that he ventriloquizes with his hand and that speaks in a more complex language than that of his elders. This youngster is inventing art, writing his own script as he makes his way in his vanishing world.

But the ancestral traditions are his too. He takes up baseball bat-sized branches to pound in precise unison with the others on resonant trees like giant drums or organ pipes, vainly trying to summon others of their vanishing kind from their disappearing habitat.

Even in their own primitive language, the Sasquatches are hardly a voluble bunch.

As these nomads make their way through woods and across fields, vast tracts of cinematic space open up for the musical soundtrack, brilliantly filled in by the experimental band The Octopus Project (Josh Lambert, Toto Miranda, Yvonne Lambert): an electronic scrim from the Wagnerian New Age summons the dawn; a simulated bird-call is awakened by warming sonic rays; pulsing, long-held harmonies provide a soft bed for a sylvan flute melody as the beasts prepare their shelter for the night; serene strings and winds in pastoral mode paint the obligatory, titular views of sunset over vast forests broken only by a few snowy patches; bucolic melodies pair with placid chords for the Disneyesque, wildlife-documentary cameos of wolverine or possum or snake. There is humor in many of these musical cues, clichés as artificial as those unseen campers’ Cheetos. The echoing thwack of a bongo signals the discovery of berries, the hollow ring of a tubular chime awakens an almost sacred pleasure at eating them. A tender lullaby welcomes a new life. Tantric, wellness-spa sonorities as the beasts prepare for love.

The idyll will be broken and when it is, melodies struggle against pounding electronics. The thumps of drums and shimmer of cymbals sew dread. Industrial eruptions agitate the Sasquatch’s terror. Dissonant collisions, metallic scrapings, wiry janglings terrorize the road scene.

And in the end, the inevitable closing song serenades the credits with the first words of English, said or sung, in the entire movie. The invisible singer is Riley Keough, a granddaughter of Elvis Presley. She also played the female sasquatch, whose sad eyes seem prescient of her clan’s fate. This makes for the most knowing joke of the whole movie, Rock and Roll royalty breathily hymning the “Creatures of Nature.” David Zellner’s goofily grandiloquent doggerel lyric is delivered by Keough above harmonically inert, harplike guitar chords, cello drones, and other precious folkisms:

Stewards of forests and
Rivers and mountains
All co-habitating
In Grand Guignol

To go against Nature
Is to face its fury
From ancient Pompeii
To Hurricane Paul

The vintage machinery, the nylon tents, the boombox and the synthesized hit on its cassette: all of these and other clues suggest that the movie is set in an already vintage past, even if these signs could ambiguously gesture towards possibly retro glampers, as do the tourist-attraction logging museum adorned by bigfoot statues and other practices of the present. The Sasquatches might still have some more time or they may have already disappeared over the horizon of history.

The closing song is coyly oracular on this matter of time and truth. Rummaging in the undergrowth for a final morsel of cliché, the last rhyme of “Creatures of Nature” nods to Shakespeare on the way towards the exit:

Chaos is order
The order of Nature
Through Winter and Spring and
Through Summer and Fall

They camе here beforе us
And shall be long after
’Til the World finally reaches
Its last curtain call.

This 90-minute, end-of-an-eon drama concludes as soft-focus choral vocalizations (“la, la, la, la”—a soft syllable decidedly not the bigfoot vocabulary) bathe Sasquatch Sunset in golden, elegiac light. The perspective broadens, time expands towards irrelevance. The road has disappeared from view and memory, reclaimed by the forest or what comes after it.

DAVID YEARSLEY is a long-time contributor to CounterPunch and the Anderson Valley Advertiser. His latest book is Sex, Death, and Minuets: Anna Magdalena Bach and Her Musical NotebooksHe can be reached at  dgyearsley@gmail.com