Playboy: Much of the controversy surrounding 2001 deals with the meaning of the metaphysical symbols that abound in the film — the polished black monoliths, the orbital conjunction of Earth, Moon and sun at each stage of the monoliths’ intervention in human destiny, the stunning final kaleidoscopic maelstrom of time and space that engulfs the surviving astronaut and sets the stage for his rebirth as a “star-child” drifting toward Earth in a translucent placenta. One critic even called 2001 “the first Nietzschean film,” contending that its essential theme is Nietzsche’s concept of man’s evolution from ape to human to superman. What was the metaphysical message of 2001?
Kubrick: It’s not a message that I ever intend to convey in words. 2001 is a nonverbal experience; out of two hours and 19 minutes of film, there are only a little less than 40 minutes of dialog. I tried to create a visual experience, one that bypasses verbalized pigeonholing and directly penetrates the subconscious with an emotional and philosophic content. To convolute McLuhan, in 2001 the message is the medium. I intended the film to be an intensely subjective experience that reaches the viewer at an inner level of consciousness, just as music does; to “explain” a Beethoven symphony would be to emasculate it by erecting an artificial barrier between conception and appreciation. You’re free to speculate as you wish about the philosophical and allegorical meaning of the film — and such speculation is one indication that it has succeeded in gripping the audience at a deep level — but I don’t want to spell out a verbal road map for 2001 that every viewer will feel obligated to pursue or else fear he’s missed the point. I think that if 2001 succeeds at all, it is in reaching a wide spectrum of people who would not often give a thought to man’s destiny, his role in the cosmos and his relationship to higher forms of life. But even in the case of someone who is highly intelligent, certain ideas found in 2001 would, if presented as abstractions, fall rather lifelessly and be automatically assigned to pat intellectual categories; experienced in a moving visual and emotional context, however, they can resonate within the deepest fibers of one’s being.
“11. Made In America (ft. Frank Ocean) - First of all son….Lionel Richie called from 1986 n said he wants his song back yo. Word. Sade jus holla’d on twitter to say this shit is soft as fuck namsayin. I think Elton John wants to conceive babies to this joint b. Drake said he gon soak in his lotion pool to this shit rite here for like a week son. I think Wiz Khagina is scissorin wit Amber Rose to this shit rite now as we speak yo. I heard this shit gon be used for the next Gwyneth Paltrow movie too. I dont kno how the same nigga that did Who Gon Stop Me had anything to do wit this shit but apparently he did nahmean. This shit sounds like two niggas hang glidin over the ocean together at sunset holdin hands son. I think this is bout to be on Yung Berg’s yoga playlist. I cant fuck wit this shit at all b. This shit is like audio lesbian comin out my speakers son.”—
Thank you for following and I just wanna say I loved your piece on Dummy about Actress & Hype Williams (I adore them both). I am a music journalist myself and if I wrote in English I am sure I'd want my articles to be written like this one. Cheeers from Poland!
The year is 3030. Somewhere in the dark alleys of a megalopolis located in what used to be the European mainland continent stands an unmarked door. Upon entering you’re confronted with rows upon rows of people lying down, eyes closed on metallic bunk beds, their heads covered by something resembling headphones, but bigger. Their bodies are still, the random twitching triggered by REM the only thing betraying them as alive.
Your eyes catch the counter near the entrance. An old Asian man is smoking and looking emptily ahead of him. As you approach he offers you a pair of headphones and points to an empty bed. The only words he utters are ‘plug in and feel the thrill of the sync.’ As you sit down on the bunk bed you notice a box protruding from its top edge: the smooth surfaces bare of anything aside from what looks like a hole on one side. Handling the headphones you notice that they end in a shape that fits the hole. You lie down, turn around and plug in before putting on the headphone apparatus and closing your eyes.
All of a sudden you find yourself transported to a strange world, one you know is not real yet feels realer than anything you experience in daily life. This world’s features and attributes gradually start to shift over time, becoming something new yet the experience remains constantly pleasant.