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Category Archives: Culture
Days of Rage (part deux)
A few days ago I posted some off the cuff, rather glib remarks about President Bush’s response to having a shoe thrown at him, at the very end of which I note Bush’s acknowledgment of protest as distinctly different than, say, Nixon’s. Well, today I’m revisiting a really stellar article by Jodi Dean, Queen of I Cite, a blog that covers political theory the likes of Agamben, Foucault, Zizek, and so on, which brings up the topic in a more serious light; so I’d like to follow up on my post with a quote from her article, “Communicative Capitalism: Circulation and the Foreclosure of Politics,” from Digital Media and Democracy:
Even when the White House acknowledged the massive worldwide demonstrations of February 15, 2003, Bush simply reiterated the fact that a message was out there, circulating–the protestors had the right to express their opinions. He didn’t actually respond to their message. He didn’t treat the words and actions of the protestors as sending a message to him to which he was in some sense obligated to respond. Rather, he acknowledged that there existed views different from his own. There were his views and there were other views; all had the right to exist, to be expressed–but that in now way meant, or so Bush made it seem, that these views were involved with each other. So, despite the terabytes of commentary and information, there wasn’t exactly a debate over the war.
Dean goes on to make a persuasive case for the separation of a politics that is the simple circulation of content (websites, TV pundits, blogs, RSS feeds, listservs, and so on) and the politics of the institution (activities of lawmakers and bureaucrats). Today, she argues, these two politics operate almost entirely independent of each other. Sure, we’d like to think the circulation of content impacts the actual decision making . . . but it doesn’t. However, it does keep us busy.
I’ll end with one of her juicier claims:
The proliferation, distribution, acceleration, and intensification of communicative access and opportunity, far from enhancing democratic governance or resistance, results in precisely the opposite, the postpolitical formation of communicative capitalism.
There’s a distinct chance I’ll be posting on this over at Candid Candidacy if any of you are enticed by these ideas.
going public
This morning I’ve been reading some of Mike Rose’s work, especially his arguments for teaching academics to write for public audiences (something he’s notoriously good at). Mike Rose is a Professor in the UCLA Graduate School of Information Studies and he’s well-known for his research on workplace literacy, remediation, and reconsidering our understandings of intelligence in relation to work.
In An Open Language: Selected Writing on Literacy, Learning, and Opportunity Rose points out that though rhetoric and composition as a field is “deeply connected to matters of broad public interest–literacy, teaching, undergraduate education” and we’ve been seeking connection with the public through service learning, courses in civic rhetoric, and work with workplace and community literacy projects, the field “offers little or no graduate-level training for public writing or speaking.”
Rose has been creating opportunities for graduates students in his program to learn more about and get more practice writing for public audiences (See his article with Karen McClafferty, “A Call for the Teaching of Writing in Graduate Education”).
Among the benefits of public writing, Rose says, are that “it can lead to a questioning and clarifying of assumptions,” it forces precision and “a honing of argument,” and forces you to think about what evidence is most persuasive.
I was struck by his comments, of course, because Harlot was started based on the recognition of a disconnect between academic considerations of rhetoric and persuasion and public deliberation of these matters. Rose’s summary of the benefits of public writing also moved me. Personally, I have struggled to write blog posts because of the kind of reflection writing for a public audience forces on me. I agree with Rose that such reflection will only make my writing better, and I aspire to become a better blogger–and a better public writer. Much like Rose noted above, though my dissertation research is directly concerned with public issues, I have not felt more removed from the public than I have writing my dissertation.
Check out Rose’s blog at http://www.mikerosebooks.blogspot.com/. The philosphy of his blog, in his words, is “a deep belief in the ability of the common person, a commitment to educational, occupational, and cultural opportunity to develop that ability, and an affirmation of public institutions and the public sphere as vehicles for nurturing and expressing that ability.”
Then & Now
The class I taught today reflected upon the statistics you’ll find below, compiled from a Mother Jones survey compiled in 2008. The conversation was fascinating, as they felt confident to speak from their personal experience. They readily use terms like “food movement” and “green movement,” but revealed some anxiety about the position they’re in: they feel a movement of sorts taking place, they say, but also feel individuated, isolated, and insignificant in the production of real change. Skeptical of the tired narrative that change begins with individual, no matter how true they know it to be, they seemed equally incredulous–but in a different way–about the possibilities of collective action. My use of the term “collective mobilization,” I suspect, came off as foreign, a bit old school (in the bad sense). There were, of course, tinctures of intimidation in such a term, too.
Anyway, I invite you to share these numbers with others and strike up a conversation about potential avenues for change . . .
King Kugel and April Fool’s
This is a bit late, but I’m just now catching up on some blog lurking.
Rotten With Perfection displays what was the “beginning of April Fool’s:”
In 1983, Boston Univ history prof Joseph Boskin could be read and seen via a number of news outlets–the Today Show, newspapers across the country–pontificating on the little-known history of April fool’s day. The video here relays the story he told. The AP had contacted Boskin and called upon him to give them some info about the “holiday.” Boskin admitted he was no expert, but said yes (jokingly). The story of King Kugel was spun nationwide as the origin of April fool’s–that is, until Boskin used it in his classes as an example of the need to be a discerning audience. He made the whole thing up.
Of course, I say it also shows the persuasiveness of being a so-called expert on a subject. What they’re telling you might be complete bunk, but if they’re the authority on the matter, then it’s still tempting to listen to them.
Days of Rage . . .
The G20 protests once again have resistance and rhetoric in the spotlight. Over 35,000 participated in the demonstrations, which displayed the usual fair of symbolic dissent: placards, banners, costumes, etc. Of course, the comparatively minor amount of violence (in juxtaposition with the thousands upon thousands who simply showed up with passionate messages and solidarity support) gained the majority of media attention. (To be clear, I’m certainly not of the camp that thinks non-violent protest is the only way to accomplish objectives and that if only we could get rid of these “rabble-rousers” then leaders would react postively to the protest. History and plain logic stand against such a position.)
While I may post on these events in the future, for instance, how the media constructs the protests (largely grouped as “anti-capitalists and climate activists”), the various tactics of the activists (there’s been a surge in ironic protest over the past decade — why?), or the audience at which the protests are directed (governmental leaders? Those who keep tabs through the media? The activists themselves?), today I want to make quick reference to a tangentially related matter of rhetoric:
Remember the shoe-throwing incident? Of course you do. But do you recall what Bush said afterwards? Refresh your memory:
A transcription for y’all:
But let me talk about the guy throwing the shoe. It is one way to gain attention. It’s like going to a political rally and having people yell at you. It’s like driving down the street and have people not gesturing with all five fingers. It’s a way for people to, you know, draw — I don’t know what the guy’s cause is. But one thing is for certain — he caused you to ask me a question about it. I didn’t feel the least bit threatened by it. These journalists here were very apologetic, they were — said, this doesn’t represent the Iraqi people. But that’s what happens in free societies, where people try to draw attention to themselves.
What exactly does Bush mean when he likens the shoe-throwing act of dissent to other forms of dissent, like raucous rallies where people yell at him while flicking him the bird? I don’t want to put too much stress on his words, since when left to ad-lib Bush can say some pretty amazing things, but I do think this off-the-cuff comment offers us some insight into how the former president views protest.
From what I can gather, acts of dissent are framed here as signs of a healthy democracy. Dissent, then, is not an invitation to a different outlook on the world, or a confrontation and critique of ruling powers, or an example of alternative modes of existence, but simply a sign that a democracy is functioning properly: that people are allowed to speak difference. This is, in other words, a positive sign.
Using this as an indicator of health, neo-liberal democracy is quite healthy these days. If we take a look at the amount of protests that accompanied Bush throughout his tenure, we’re doing just fine.
Bush’s comment stands in contrast to a Nixon comment that is representative of how the Chief typically responds to protests:
Now, I understand that there has been, and continues to be, opposition to the war in Vietnam on the campuses and also in the nation. As far as this kind of activity is concerned, we expect it, however under no circumstances will I be affected whatever by it.
Bush departs from this stance and makes the bold move to claim it as a victory for a free society. Hmm . . .
I’ll be keeping my eye on the heads of the G20 to see how they respond to the protest. In the meantime, we should all recognize that a serious shift is underway and that activists of all walks are being presented with an opportunity for action.
Dear Diane
Excuse me, Ms. Diane Sawyer, but what exactly were you trying to do in your 20/20 special A Hidden America: Children of the Mountains? (Sidenote, Diane: Children? Seriously? You could choke on that pathos.) It’s not that I doubt your real affection for the predicament of poor Appalachians, but you’ve fallen into a very common trap. Oh, Diane. Haven’t you heard about the exploitation of Appalachians? It happened over forty years ago and now you’re trying to bring it back?
Don’t get me wrong, I loved Harlan County USA as much as the next person, but just take a look at the beginning of Stranger with a Camera. Do you really want to risk getting some up and coming reporter shot? Okay, I don’t say that seriously, but really, you’re walking a slippery slope.
It’s not that I don’t want people to know. Yeah, Appalachia can be a forgotten about area of America and its people seem automatically reduced to stereotypes, but really only because people make them out to be. Hey, my aunt is from West Virginia and she doesn’t hear the end of it even though the rest of that side of the family is from Eastern Kentucky themselves. To be fair though, I don’t hear the end of being born and raised in Ohio.
Grandfather: You know what a buckeye is, Kaitlin?
Me: What’s that?
Grandfather: A worthless nut.
So, I understand the instinct to try and produce a work with this particular pathos laden slant:
Don’t you think that’s a bit heavy handed, darlin’? And is this even true? Is taking the star quarter back of a football team really showing the average Appalachian child? I think it does reveal the difficulty of any poor person to get out of their poverty. And, in fact, these kids from Paintsville disagree with the representation of their area:
(Sidenote 2: Isn’t it interesting with all the networking abilities that we have today, people would set out to revise the history that someone else is creating for them?) So, as you can see, one of the areas that you covered, Paintsville, has its good side and its bad, which would seem to be the same as any other place, really. Like, Chicago or New York or LA. There are some really fine, prosperous areas in all these cities as there are areas of crime and poor education, but, for some reason, the crime and drug use in Paintsville is uniquely interesting simply because it’s Appalachian.
(Sidenote 3: Diane, while we’re speaking of truth, could you correct your captions, please. They keep writing out “hollow,” but, phonetically speaking, he’s saying “holler.” Yes, he is referring to a hollow, but if you want to capture Appalachia, then please capture it as it really is–as they really pronounce it. I love an Eastern Kentucky accent. Don’t water it down, don’t make it Northern.)
There is American Hollow, though; a documentary made by Rory Kennedy in 1999 which also depicted the lives of poor Appalachians. This one I think it pretty fair and filmed much more objectively–if objectivity really exists. Even Harlan County (and I mean I love Harlan County USA) filmed to be very clearly pro-union:
American Hollow, though, takes that more fly on the wall documentary approach.
It’s not that complete objectivity is necessary for everything, but I think that when you try to pin down an entire population like that of poverty-stricken Appalachians, it’s probably best to take a step back before making commentary on it. I guess, Diane, my personal subjectivity is what’s going to take over this final assessment. American Hollow is the closest thing to what I’ve personally seen. That certainly is not the most iron-clad evidence, but that particular film seems fair. It shows the good with the bad, the tragic with the elation. It just feels honest. Let me reiterate, though, that I’m referring specifically to those living in poverty–it most certainly is not a reflection upon Appalachians in their entirety. Just to make that clear.
So, I guess I may just be swept up in its rhetoric, but I have to ask you, dear Diane. If your documentary feels simply like an exploitation, then who are you really helping? Even if your intentions are good, are you really making the difference that you set out to make?
TLC and the Exotic Lense
I’ll admit to liking TLC. In most circumstances, I have no problem saying that I like programs such as Jon & Kate Plus 8, but I have been a bit disturbed by their schedule lately. You can take a look for yourself at TLC’s TV schedule by both the daily and weekly listing.
I suppose that it’s entirely possible that I never paid attention before, but it seems like that station has been overrun by what we might call the exotic. That is, almost every show on that schedule seems to have some fascination with situations that are out of the norm. Seriously, these day it’s all Little People, Big World, 17 18 kids and counting, LA Ink, Miami Ink, Table for 12, and Toddlers and Tiaras.
I’m concerned. That’s all. If we look at everything expecting it to be exotic, then does the mundane lose power? I’ve always been a strong believer in making the mundane seem as wondrous as it really can be. One of my favorite videos of late is that of Louis CK on Conan. . .
And I guess this is my point and my concern. If all we seem to want to see are the absolute extraordinary rarities that happen in life or the attempt at rarity, then aren’t we missing out on some of the actually extraordinary every day things?
Video Essays!
Nothing I like more than a little analysis in a hard candy coating and, well, I feel like sharing.
Is He Bona Fide?
Is He Bona Fide? from Daniel Anderson on Vimeo.
“This video essay explores the theme of sincerity in the film O Brother, Where Art Thou?. The essay is composed in video form, using clips from the film as quotations and layering analysis over the clips through narration.”
Remix Culture II
Remix Culture II from Ricardo on Vimeo.
“My second mashup for the
Total Recut Video Remix Challenge 2008
“What is Remix Culture?”Here’s a list of all the entries in the competition:
http://www.totalrecut.com/contest-videos.php”
Watchmen Video Essay/Review
Watchmen Video Essay/Review from Adam Schoales on Vimeo.
“Here we go kids, after hours of writing, editing, shooting, cutting, and recutting my review… err… video essay for “Watchmen” is complete.
I’m going to work on creating a more concise version thats more along the lines of an actual review, but this should whet your appetite.
(and yes, I’m reading from a teleprompter. you try doing a 20 minute review from memory and smoothly…)”
The World is Flat 3.0
This is more of a lecture, but still mighty thought provoking. I especially like starting at the 29:30 minute mark when Thomas Friedman says that being able to use “imaginative thinking” and connecting dots, in the way liberal arts does, is essential. Then again, I’m a bit biased.
Bringing liberal arts into the equation is more important than ever, because we’re in a world now where imagination and mashups–the ability to mash things together through really imaginative, I think, thinking–is going to be such a huge advantage. . . I think inspiration, innovation comes from having two or more specialties and applying the framework of one specialty to the framework of another. And so, it is great, it is critical, it is essential. We have people who are experts at dots, but we also need, as individuals and collectives, to be encouraging the connecting of those dots and the mashing of them together.
Blogging with Arianna Huffington
Arianna Huffington talked about blogging about a month ago on The Jon Stewart Show. Of all the different explanations and discussions concerning blogging, I think I like her explanation best. She makes several comments I appreciate, including:
The difference about blogging is that it’s — as we say . . . first thought, best thought. Like, don’t over think it, don’t overwrite it . . . it’s a first draft of history.
or
Blogging is not about perfectionism. Blogging is about intimacy, immediacy, transparency, and sharing your thoughts the way you share it with a friend.
So, friends, I come to you now to bring up the conundrum of writing a book on blogging. Hmm, I say. I think the way she explains it is correct — blogging seems to be a “first draft of history” — typos and all. I can’t help but wonder about the marketing of this. I mean, bloggers would seem to be the ones truly curious about this book, but instead of releasing it as a pdf book, they chose to publish it on real paper. I have to wonder if they’re really reaching their audience.
BUT! I have a copy of Creative Nonfiction‘s “The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 1” which includes some choice blog posts. (I mean, they recently published “The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 2” that does the same thing.) If we’re now publishing the first draft of history (which is important, I’m not saying it’s not), then what happens to the 2nd and 3rd and 4th draft of history?
I suppose I’d like to see these posts retold later, you know? I’d like to see how the 2nd and 3rd drafts come out in comparison to the first. There’s no need to get rid of either–they both have validity, but I just want to see how they change. Obviously, typos would improve, but would reveal something about how we approach different audiences (ie from the internet readers to the book readers)? Would we change what we think? I don’t know, but I am curious to know.