Reasons To Boycott Hollywood Forever – Return Of Kings. I used to love films. While other guys my age watched them for mindless fun, I viewed them as works of art that required scrutiny and attention to details for greater appreciation. I later even took a course on history of films in my university as an elective.

But now, my views on films as a whole have changed as I learned to see Hollywood for what it really is: a giant tumour to our culture and society. The next next time you decide to put yourself through another Hollywood production, consider these six points: 1.

I used to love films. While other guys my age watched them for mindless fun, I viewed them as works of art that required scrutiny and attention to details for greater. Download PC Game God of War 3 Full Version PS3 Game Download Download Full God of War III Download Full Version PS3 PC Game God of War 3 Full PC Game Download Free.

You’re wasting your money and time on trash. While the budgets have gone up, the quality of Hollywood films have gone down.

Watch Allied 2016 Online on Putlocker. Stream Allied in HD on Putlocker. IMDb: 7.1 Brad Pitt, Marion Cotillard, August Diehl, Vincent Ebrahim, Xavier De Guillebon.

Lawless euro union was created in a illegal lawless coup d etat - and this unlawfull stalinist terror-torture unit will collapse with a fucking big bang.

Hollywood has produced many classics in the past that I still regard highly, but all the junk they release today are shallow and predictable because they have been designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator. The problem is that Hollywood has become too successful.

They mastered the art of money- making using the same cookie- cutter story arc of Good vs. Evil that usually features characters from comic books graphic novel masterpieces. And the business model is just too profitable for them to try and experiment creating different themes and styles. Their apparent lack of imagination is demonstrated by all the horrible remakes and revivals that make going to the movies a complete waste of money and time.

The only thing more pathetic than sports fans are movie fans. In comparison, I am always amazed by how refreshingly original foreign films are.

Foreign films do exactly what motion pictures are supposed to do by offering new perspectives and insights, by stirring up your creative force, and by reaching deep into your soul. If you insist on watching films, go for the oldies or watch quality foreign films. Leave the new Hollywood releases for the brainless sheeple to enjoy. You’re financing bunch of degenerates. And guess where all the money you’re wasting is going to?

To finance the lavish lifestyles of all the Hollywood degenerates, of course. While American peons are dishing out their hard- earned cash for the privilege of sitting in front of a flickering screen for couple of hours, Hollywood entertainers and producers are using that money to buy their next yacht, private island, and $1. Along with politicians and multi- billionaires, they have become the new royalty in today’s society where the wealth gap is at its greatest ever. Also know that the people who you are financing are somewhere between prostitutes and politicians in terms of moral rectitude. Sex scandals, Scientology, Satanism, and drug abuses among the entertainers are already well known, but there are also widespread rumours of the casting couch, and rampant pedophilia. And this is just what we know.

Who knows what more debauchery lurks beneath their thin layer of superstar lives? Us commoners are simply expected to feign ignorance and come back for the sequels.

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Hollywood is full of sanctimonious entertainers. Di. Caprio likes to lecture us plebeians to mind our carbon footprint while flying around in his private jet. Not content with getting high on money, fame, and drugs, our 2.

And while they say nothing about the bankrupt morality of their fellow actors, they barely hide their contempt for white men, traditional values, and Christianity. But not only that, they also love taking their precious leisure time to enlighten us lowly subjects with matters ranging from climate change and race issues to feminism. Some uppity twat with a messiah complex teaching us ignorant neanderthals to do more for women. These entertainers, with their superiority complex, believe that their fame make them qualified enough to lead us and solve the problems of the world. Can you imagine the horrible dark age we’d be ushered into if it weren’t for the guidance of these guardians of the universe? Neither can I. 4.

They’re actively shoving social justice propaganda in your face. Patriarchybusters?

Among the things Hollywood likes to offer their guidance on are issues of social justice and feminism. Back in the day, totalitarian states spent their own money creating propaganda to brainwash the masses; today, people pay Hollywood to get voluntarily brainwashed by them. With girl- power trash like the new Mad Max and the new Star Wars films, Hollywood works hard in their social engineering program to erase men as masculine leaders while replacing them with macho female characters who could do it all without a man. If you’re still not disgusted by Hollywood’s blatant support of social justice, try watching this condescending piece that propagates feminist lies of rape culture: 5. Their movies are filled with dangerously flawed messages regarding sex relations. In real life, if you do this to a woman to make her fall in love with you, she will call the police.

Even without the feminist agenda, Hollywood inseminates dangerously wrong ideas in regards to attracting women and developing relationships with them. Take, for example, the romantic film beloved by women: The Notebook. There’s a ridiculous scene where Ryan Gosling stalks Rachel Mc. Adam and asks her out by threatening her with suicide. What kind of message is that sending to young and naive men who have never been taught how to court women? Even animations that cater to family expose young boys with not- so- hidden messages about what male- female relationships are supposed to be like.

I recently watched WALL- E and here’s a brief synopsis of what I’ve observed: WALL- E, the dusty, working- class robot, falls in love with EVE, a much more advanced robot that is highly intelligent, confident, strong, aggressive, sophisticated, pristine, and beautiful all in one (basically all that today’s young American women pretend to be but are not). The timid and clumsy WALL- E grovels and follows EVE around, trying to get her attention in spite of how dismissive she is—she is too busy with her job to even acknowledge him. Long story short, EVE finally realizes how much of a nice- guy WALL- E is and rewards him with the affection that he had desperately sought. The message here is clear: be a supplicant male who worships woman regardless of how she treats you and she might eventually fall in love with you. Yeah right. Meanwhile, movies like Frozen teach girls that sisterly love is more important than anything greedy, duplicitous men and the nice guys have to offer.

STARTRACK. COM : : FILM : : FOTO : : MUSIC : : SCENE : : STARS ===LITERATUREGEORGE ORWELL: Nineteen Eighty- Four. IIt was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him. The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. Watch Cougar Club Online. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty- five, with a heavy black moustache and ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs.

It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty- nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the lift- shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.

Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig- iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right- hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended.

Outside, even through the shut window- pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio'd face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house- front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston's own.

Down at streetlevel another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSOC. In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the police patrol, snooping into people's windows.

The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered. Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig- iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three- Year Plan. The telescreen received and transmitted simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vision which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork.

It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live - - did live, from habit that became instinct - - in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized. Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape.

This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste - - this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth- century houses, their sides shored up with baulks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow- herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger patch and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken- houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright- lit tableaux occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible. The Ministry of Truth - - Minitrue, in Newspeak* - - was startlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 3.

From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACEFREEDOM IS SLAVERYIGNORANCE IS STRENGTHThe Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided.

The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order.

And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all.