Maybe it was just a good time. Maybe it was just another last night’s party. Or maybe we were supposed to find ourselves there. Maybe Harmony Korine’s Spring Breakers was a road map to revolution. Maybe the cum of a nymph under water can bring about The Coming Insurrection. Here’s our manifesto on the subtext of Spring Breakers. Do you buy it or not? Are you in or are you out?
Preliminary Materials for a Theory of Spring Breakers
Spring Breakers is a music video about the fine line between the areola of youth and American class warfare, between the smile of a tanned ass cheek and abject gun violence.
Spring Breakers says the penis is irrelevant. The penis is over. The glock is the new phallic ideal.
Suck my glock, he said, she said.
Spring Breakers captures the temporality of the wasted. Wasted, we become one.
The unity of the Dionysian.
We found ourselves in the mass. The congregation of party. The bump of bodies.
The neon party wristband is our belonging.
Spring Breakers says you have to be hard. Don’t be scared of anything. Pretend it’s a video game.
You can change your life. You can change who you are. Sings the Alien with the dollar sign on his neck.
We are all gambling for freedom. Roll the dice.
The scent of revolution is Calvin Klein’s Escape.
Spring Breakers strips Western capitalism down bare—to t&a and guns—sex and death.
The unicorn represents the purity of our violent intentions. We are a mystical creature.
Scarface on repeat—the masculine precedent of Spring Breakers. The girls get the happy ending.
Property is a neon mansion. A neon mansion is the foundation of America.
The closing shootout is the denouement of our times. Slow motion. La fin.
This is the fucking American Dream, y’all.
It all cums down to freedom.