Tuesday, February 19, 2019

Old Memetic Realism by Fredric Jameson




The purpose of theory being not to invent solutions but to produce problems in the first place. . . .the notes that follow should be taken as a sampling of exhibits rather than a unified and systematic theory . . .  ruminations. And it is justified to find oneself always talking about the emergence or the breakdown of Realism and never about the thing itself, since we will always find ourselves describing a potential emergence or a potential breakdown.



On the one hand, historically, there is an increasing fatigue with plot and with the standard narrative paradigms, not merely with the chronicles of world-historical figures, but also with the destinies of protagonists generally in whatever form. At the same time, another tendency is at work in bourgeois society, and that is social equality. It would be remarkable if this trend, whose other face is what called individualism, did not leave its traces on the form of the novel.

In melodrama there is binary opposition between good and evil, about which one might well claim that it is the fundamental opposition as such, the one that generates all those other innumerable oppositions at work in life and thought, from masculine/feminine to black and white, from intellect versus emotion to the one and the many, from nature and culture to master and slave. By the same token any number of ideologies claim in their turn to interpret and to derive the good/evil binary from one of of these secondary oppositions taken as its deeper underlying cause.


In Tolstoy’s novels there is a  sense  that  the categories Good and Evil are survivals of those melodramatic forms and stereotypes that realism must necessarily try to overcome. The Tolstoyan character is not created as an organic unity, but as a heterogeneity, a mosaic of fragments and differences held together by a body and a name ( that is to say a past, a unique destiny, a specific story ) but with the sense that there are no villains.



It is certain that no reader of George Eliot can escape the feeling that her pages are obsessively devoted to an intricate moralizing of the most minute psychological reactions and perturbations. It will therefore seem perverse to argue, as I will, that the moralizing style with which she renders and represents inner movements and reactions can in fact be identified as a strategy for weakening the hold of ethical systems and values as such, and ultimately as a move consistent with the modern denunciations of the ethical binary very much in the spirit of Nietzsche or Sartre. . .namely, her intent to persuade us that there are no villains and that evil does not exist.

 Middlemarch was written, not so much to celebrate or to elegize the characters  otherwise resting in  un-visited tombs as it was to describe the process whereby their protagonicity was slowly dissolved in the name of a different, non-binary conception of the social totality, thereby also allowing this last to be represented in one final form before it becomes so vast as to demand a different kind of evocation – as the presence of an enormous and omnipresent absence, rather than an empirical entity we can still barely glimpse.

The mission of the realist novel is the very weakening of the melodramatic structure, the gradual effacement of the villain and the systematic dismantling of its rhetoric, its specific address to the audience and the demands it makes on their reactions- terror, pity fear and sympathy, breathless anticipation, and the like.


Realism can accommodate images of social  decadence and social disintegration, as already in Balzac; but not this quite different sense of the ontology of the present as a swiftly running stream. I have argued elsewhere at some length that the structural bias is visible in the satiric portraits of all the great realists of intellectuals as such, a discrediting of all  radical commitments to history, to change and to social reform.



 The personal conservatism  of most of the great realist novelists can be demonstrated biographically . . . To posit the imminence of some thorough-going revolution in the social order itself is at once to disqualify those materials of the  present which are the building blocks of narrative realism, for from the revolutionary perspective they become mere appearances or epiphenomena , transitory moments of history, a sham calm before the storm, habits which are merely those of an ephemeral social class and which are about to be swept away forever.

Thackeray’s characterization of old Osborne in Vanity Fair gets close to the realist impulse in fiction:

“He firmly believed that everything he did was right, that he ought on all occasions to have his own way – and like the sting of a wasp or serpent his hatred rushed out armed and poisonous against anything like opposition. He was proud of his hatred as of everything else. Always to be right, always to trample forward, are these not the great qualities with which dullness takes the lead in the world?”




Realism does not mean the utter effacement of that manifestation of destiny and its recits which is the melodramatic mode; but only its weakening and tendential attenuation in the face of its opposite number, the scene, affect, the eternal present, consciousness or whatever form indeed that incompatible impulse might take. Zola’s cataclysms, Balzac’s frantic denouements, all testify to the persistence of this temporal structure and its indispensability to a form which would be sorely challenged without some such device, some signal of closure and completion.

But the Realist novel  maintains a fragile equilibrium which precisely takes affect, and the unnamable, as its fundamental object. It is attempted figuration of the waves  of generalized sensation, these which, for want of a better word, I will here call affect… replacing the vague word ‘feeling,’ [a reconsideration of the old problem which has become the un-examined sedimentation of common sense thought.]
Affect in Tolstoy and the kind of narrative texture it develops,  consciousness as an impersonal field which challenges subjectivity as an objective identity, thus escapes the ‘tyranny of point of view.’



 A ceaseless variability affect too, against a single affective tonality like a single note or or pedal point held without variation, a density of affects which secures an impersonal existence, above and beyond the individual subjects which were once the protagonists of realism. A stronger ‘modernist’  example of such changeability is found in the music of Gustave Mahler : temporality is agitation, it cannot remain in a state of tranquility for long.

The historical novel as a genre cannot exist without this dimension of collectivity, which marks the drama of the incorporation of individuals into a greater totality, and can alone certify the presence of History as such. Without this collective dimension, history, one is temped to say, is again reduced to mere conspiracy, the form that it takes in novels which have aimed for historical content without historical consciousness  and which remain merely political in some more specialized sense.

The famous ‘average hero’ whose presence Lukac’s posits as a necessary mediation between everyday life and the great historical events is precisely the theatrical spectator, who observes the great episodically and from the afar . . . Yet we must also understand that this “rule” of historical fiction is part and parcel of a whole Lukacian attack  on biography as a form . . Oddly enough, Lukacs does not included the most ancient warning of this kind, in Aristotle’s Poetics, paragraph 8:



The unity of plot does not consist, as some suppose, in its having one man as its subject. An infinity of things must befall that one man, some which is impossible to reduce to unity; and in like manner there are many actions of one man which cannot be made form one action.





Leaving aside the question of whether there have ever been successful revolutions in the first place, we may suggest that an absolute dichotomization, which leaves only two adversaries face to face, leads at once to a kind of allegorical treatment suitable to the novel as a form and presenting impossible obstacles for a genuinely novelistic narration (For one thing, it then becomes impossible for either one of the opposing  sides to avoid taking the role of the villain – a category of melodrama rather than of realism, let alone historical realism . . .



The historical novel can  function as an intervention into the political situation and not merely a representation of the past. This is something we may observe at work in one of the rare successful novelizations of a genuine revolution, namely Hilary Mantel’s Place of Greater Safety. . . she psychologizes and presumably modernizes real historical figures, whose thoughts she makes available to us and this in the form of personal relationships, solidarities, jealousies, envies, and private judgments which might well have been depoliticized and modernized in the form of this or that intimate novel or play staging purely fictional individuals. The great events of the French Revolution here indeed come before us in the form of echoes, rumors, reports from the outside, sounds in the street, documents to be signed or decisions to be made or evaded: as rich as the texture is, there is something of the closet drama about all this and a reduction of the collective dimensions of this unique revolutionary situation, an Event which included many events and truly contained multitudes . .



I propose to grasp these ruminations  as the attempt to solve a properly narratological issue. . .we have chosen from the outset to couple the two unique characteristics of the historical novel: the presence of the ‘world-historical;’, which is to say ‘real’ historical individuals and the concomitant presence, however shadowy, of the collectivity itself – nation, people or multitude - whose history is here in question. But we have linked these two features as opposites, whose tensions makes up the specificity of this form and in whose resolution depends the literary value and distinctiveness of the work in question.

[Let the following stand for Jameson’s view of Realism after affect:



The post-modernity in the movie Inception is to be found in the aesthetic of an absolute present, where, as Adorno warned about late capitalism, all negativity has been tendentially reduced and extirpated – and this is not only in his sense of distances still maintained by critique and the ‘critical theory’, but even in the temporal gaps left by the past and the mirages fitfully generated by the future: an absolute reduction to the present (what Adorno called ‘nominalism’) and a mesmerization by the empirical and sensorially existent. . . a   newly invented environment or constructed world in an Potemkin-like projection which only exists in the general and not in the detail strongly confirms its relationship to stereotypes (and images) rather than to older mimetic realism.

For rather than providence and the providential, the notion of predestination also illustrates the realist here: for even in the realm of theology itself, this notion has been a ‘hard saying’ that often and traditionally ‘sticks in the craw.’ Yet predestination illustrates Kant’ two levels of the empirical and the transcendental almost better than any other attempt at a concept, for it claims to solve this dilemma (which merely names)- namely that of the distinction between the realm of freedom and that of necessity, that of the noumenon and that of the phenomenon, that of the transcendental and that of the empirical – by paradoxically locating the latter in the power of the divine, and the former in that of human subjectivity. What the concept of predestination asserts, in other words, is that an iron necessity governs my empirical acts and my personal destiny – this iron necessity is that of God’s providence and of his determination of that destiny from all eternity, and before time itself. I am, in empirical reality, one of the elect or one of the damned, and I can exercise no freedom in influencing these outcomes. No individual act of mine exerts any kind of causality in their predetermined course. However, on the level of my individual consciousness or soul (Kant’s noumenal realm of freedom), things stand utterly differently, and I can have no subjective sense of my election or damnation: here I am left alone with my existential freedom and must necessarily choose my acts and make my decisions as though I were completely free.]

Brecht’s great poem on dynastic change in traditional societies  also evokes the unseen omnipresence of the collectivity:



When the houses of the great collapse

Many little ones are slain.

Those who had no share in the fortunes of the mighty

Often share in their misfortunes.



The plunging wagons drag

The sweating oxen with it

Into the abyss.



The furthest points our thoughts  can reach, namely, dystopia and regression, world dictatorship and the reversion to savagery, civilization and barbarism. These alternatives are today and for the moment the only ways we can imagine our future, the future of late capitalism: and it is only by shattering their twin dominion  that we might conceivably be able again to think politically and productively, to envisage a condition of genuinely revolutionary difference, to begin once again to think Utopia.



References and further reading

The classic work on the meaning of melodrama is that of Peter Brooks, The Melodramatic Imagination, 1995



Perry Anderson From Progress to Catastrophe, LRB July 2011



Georg Lukacs

https://johnshaplin.blogspot.com/2018/03/walter-scott-by-georg-lukacs.html

https://johnshaplin.blogspot.com/2018/03/rollandes-colas-breugnon-by-georg-lukacs.html

Niklas Luhmann



https://johnshaplin.blogspot.com/search?q=Luhmann



Albert Doblin’s untranslated novel Wallenstein, written during WWI, published in 1920, nine years before his acclaimed Berlin Alexanderplatz



Roy Ladurie’s Carnival of Romans, striking narrative of the ‘world turned upside down’ in an anthropological mode.



Francis Spufford’s Red Plenty :  registration of a future history we do not find in history books



George Kubler  The Shape of Time

https://johnshaplin.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-shape-of-time-by-george-kubler.html




Saturday, February 9, 2019

Hegelese for Everday Americans by Eliot Rosenstock

Let’s cut to the chase: the core insight of Zizekian Psychoanalysis:

“The working class is split into three, each part with its own ‘way of life’ and ideology: the enlightened hedonism and liberal multiculturalism of the intellectual class, the populist fundamentalism of the working class, and the more extreme, singular forms of the outcast fraction. In Hegelese, this triad is clearly the triad of the universal (intellectual workers), particular (manual workers), and singular (outcasts) .  .  . the proletariat is thus divided into three, each part played off gains the others: intellectual workers full of cultural prejudices against the ‘redneck’ workers, workers who display a populist hatred of intellectuals and outcasts, outcasts who are antagonistic to a society as such. The old call of ‘Proletarians, unite!’ is this more pertinent than ever: in the new conditions of ‘post-industrial’ capitalism, the unity of the three factions of the working class is already their victory.”

Slavoj Zizek, The Idea of Communism, How to Begin from the Beginning, p.226, Verso Books, 2010

One need only to transpose this figuration from society as a whole onto the individual psyche which is comprised of the dynamic interaction-concordant and dis-concordant by turns- of these triads  (ways of life or, in the  Rosenstock’s terms, algorithms) directed to the ‘vanishing point of self’: the impossible unity of the ‘proletariat’. The therapeutic goal of Zizekian psychoanalysis is thus expressed in the common saying:
“Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you feed him for a lifetime”*

The rest of Rosenstock’s book consists of various  Lacanian obfuscations, Hegelian presumptions and awkward attempts to distinguish Zizekian psychoanalysis (so-called)from other forms of  cognitive and behavioral psychologies which fall under the rubric of ineffective symptomologies; points fairly well made under the circumstances (of obfuscation) combined with rather comic attempts to reconcile his new insight and goals with the professional ethics of therapeutic communities and practice along with the need to justify charges submitted to insurance companies.

To reverse the analogy one could compare conventional therapy to traditional media, essentially authoritarian, the significance of whose reports and opinions and pundits are what positions, content  and potential pundits they exclude. ‘Zizekian psychotherapy would be  social media where the door is wide open for the individual to configure  ‘feeds’ in whatever he/she deems suitable: dynamically inclusive, exclusive or wholly insubordinate: whatever, according the the ‘requirements’ of each passing moment.




*This is from Lao Tzu, not the Bible. For a more accessible philosophical treatment of this matter see  Hans-Georg Moeller’s The Moral Fool e.g. 

Monday, February 4, 2019

K-Punk Polemics by Mark Fisher


[Fisher’s polemics are  startling and effective, as the editor of K-Punk  Darren Ambrose notes in his introduction: “He (Mark Fisher) consistently displays the courage to take up a strong theoretical and practical position. His work rows against the tide of anti-intellectualism in the present which has tried so hard to flatten things out to a level of cretinous instrumentality and utilitarian stupidity. . . he had a consistent belief in the operative effectiveness of fugitive discourses which have been legitimated by neither the official channels of the establishment (via academia or mainstream media outlets) or traditional forms of publishing.. ‘All that is lacking is the will, the belief that what can happen in something that does not have authorization /legitimation can be as important- more important – than what comes out through official channels.’”]



Houllebecq



Finishing: Atomised. No wonder Zizek likes this one. Is there a better savaging of desolate hippie hedonism and its pathetic legacy in New Age Zen bullshit?



J. G. Ballard:

In the BBC Four profile – nothing new here, the old man gamely and tirelessly going over his favorite riffs, once again- Ballard repeated one of his familiar, but still powerfully sobering observations. People often comment on how extreme his early life was, Ballard said. Yet, far from being extreme, that early life- beset by  hunger, fear, war and the constant threat of death- is the default condition for most human beings on the planet, now and in every previous century. It is the comfortable life of the Western Suburbanite which is in every way the planetary exception.



Male Desire ( from Villiers de I’Isle-Adam’s The Future Eve, 1877):


“The creature whom you love, and who for you is the sole REALITY is by no means the one who is embodied in this transient human figure, but a creature of your desire. […] This illusion is the one thing you struggle against all odds to VITALIZE in the presence of your beloved, despite the frightful, deadly, withering nullity of Alicia. What you love is this phantom alone; it’s for the phantom that you want to die. That and that alone is what you recognized as unconditionally REAL. In short, it is this objectified projection of your mind that you call on, that you perceive, that you CREATE in your living woman, and which is nothing but your mind reduplicated in her.



The Middle Class

Blair has made middle-class security the horizon of all aspiration. In this over-conscious, over-lit twenty-four-hour office of the soul , business, preposterously, is served up to us as the closest to thing to anything animated by the libido. Ballard knows that a break-out from this affective prison must involve the explicit de-cathexis of the “nice house, nice family’ picture that bourgeois culture is still capable of projecting as ideal.


In the histories of punk, much is made of the middle classes, but the crucial catalytic role of that particular kind of middle-class refusal remains under-thought. The middle-class defection from reproductive futurism into scarification and tribalization did nothing more than state the obvious- middle-class careers and the privileges they bring are empty, tedious and enervating – but, now more than ever, it is this obviousness that cannot be stated.



The interesting thing is that they’re protesting against themselves. There’s no enemy out there. They know that they are the enemy.



Pornography

What Ballard, Lacan and Burroughs have in common is the perception that human sexuality is essentially pornographic. For all three, human sexuality is irreducible to biological excitation; strip away the hallucinatory and the fantasmatic, and sexuality disappears with it. As Renata Aleci argues in (Per)Versions of Love and Hate, it is easier for an animal to enter the Symbolic Order than it is for humans to unlearn the Symbolic and attain animality, an observation confirmed by the news that, when an orangutan was presented with pornography, it ceased to show any sexual interest in its fellow apes and spent all day masturbating. The orangutan had been inducted into human sexuality by the ‘inhuman partner’, the fantasmatic supplement upon which all human sexuality depends. The question is not, then, whether pornography, but which pornography?

Two hundred years after Sade, a century after Bataille and Masoch, it appears that anything which acknowledges that eroticism is inseparable from violence and humiliation is more unacceptable than ever. The issue is not how “healthy” sexuality can be purged of violence, but how the violence inherent to sexuality can be sublimated. Meisel’s photographs – which, we should remember, appear in magazines the vast majority of whose readership is not “adolescent males “ but women – are ‘fantasy kits” which offer just such sublimations, providing scenarios, role-play cues and potential fantasmatic identifications. . . Ours is an age of cynicism and piety which primly and pruriently resists the equivalences between eroticism, violence and celebrity . . .It is clear that the appalling Abu Ghraib photographs were already intensely eroticized stagings whose scenarios were derived from cheap American pornography. Love and Napalm: Export USA, indeed. Part of the reason Abu Ghraib images were so traumatic for a deeply conflicted American culture which combines religious moralism with hyper-sexualized commerce, and which is united only by a taste for mega-violence, is that it exposed the equation between military intervention and sexual humiliation that the official culture both depends and must suppress. . .a carefully maintained distinction between a violent, obscene underside and a bland, official front is the normal practice of power and privilege.



God and His Gardeners

Note that Kant’s argument applies equally well to the neo-paganism of God’s Gardeners (in The Year of the Flood) as it does to the ‘righteous non-believers”, for Kant absolutely refuses the equation of nature with beneficence that the Gardeners preach. On the contrary, Kant argues, God is necessary to make good a nature characterized by amoral purposelessness. The true atheist must be able to look at this ‘vast tomb’, this ‘abyss of purposeless chaos’, full in the face – whereas I suspect that most(of us) non-believers manage only to look away from it. But Kant’s moral argument is less easily dismissed than it would appear, because it is far harder to dismiss the belief in a providential structure of the universe than we first imagine – precisely because this kind of belief lurks far beneath anything that we would admit to accepting. (Watch an edition of Deal or No Deal, though,  and it’s clear that many openly evince such a belief.) Perhaps it would indeed take a Crake’s genetic tinkering to eradicate it.

The problem with The Year of the Flood is that politics and religion become synonymous – and while there’s every reason to be positive about politicalized religion, there are deep problems with politics which cannot shed the redemptive and messianic mantles of religious eschatology. It’s striking how much God’s Gardeners resemble the Greens as abominated by Sorman, in a passage quoted in First as Tragedy, Then as Farce:

No ordinary rioters, the Greens are the priests of a new religion that puts nature above humankind. The ecology movement is not a nice peace-and-love lobby but a revolutionary force. Like many a modern-day religion, its designated evils are ostensibly decried on the basis of scientific knowledge: global warming, species extinction, loss of biodiversity, super-weeds. In fact, all these threats are figments of the Green imagination. Greens borrow their vocabulary from science without availing themselves of its rationality. There method is not new, Marx and Engels also pretended to root their world vision in the science of their time, Darwinism.’

Atwood makes a case for such religion. (Clarifactory note: just to be 100% clear- I in no way endorse Sorman’s view of the Greens, I just thought it was amusing that Atwood constructed an eco-cult which so closely fitted Sorman’s stereotype.) In an exchange with Richard Dawkins on Newsnight a couple of weeks ago, Atwood maintained that arguing against the religion from the perspective of evolution makes little sense, because the persistence of religion itself suggests that it confers evolutionary benefit on humans. Given this, Atwood suggested, religion should be used as a tool for ‘progressive’ struggles; and Adam One, the leader of God’s  Gardeners, is interesting only when he sounds like a Machiavelli or Strauss, who uses religion to manipulate popular sentiment – the rest of the time his eco-piousness is made bearable only by virtue of Atwood’s gentle satirical teasing (witness, for instance, the convolutions into which Gardener-doctrine is forced in its attempts to reconcile vegetarianism with both the carnivore-bias of the Bible and the “amoral chaos’ of a nature red in tooth and claw). Initially, what appeals about the idea of God’s Gardeners is the promise that Atwood would describe as a new kind of political organization. Yet the Gardener’s doctrine and structure turns out to be a disappointing rag-bag of stale and drab No Logo-like anti-consumerist asceticism, primitive lore, natural remedies and self-defense that is as alluring as last week’s  patchouli oil. The Year of the Flood feels like a a symptom of the libidinal and symbolic impasses of so much anti-capitalism. Atwood imagines the end of capitalism, but only after the end of the world.



Toy Story



On his blog ion memory and technology, Bat, Bean, Beam, the theorist Giovanni Tiso recently noted he echoes of Pinocchio in the Toy Story films. For the Marxist Richard Seymour,



Toy Story 3 is a story of how freedom is achieved through commodification, and how ‘the consent of the governed” roughly equals the willing embrace of bondage […] Everyone, and everything has is place in the Toy Story scheme of things. That scheme is a hierarchy of commodities with toys near the bottom, subordinate and devoted to their owners.’

Yet, at an ontological level, the Toy Story films constitute something of a ‘tangled hierarchy.’ The toys that are depicted in the films do not only exist at an ‘ontologically inferior’ level of the film’s fiction; they are real in the sense that you can buy them outside the cinema. In Ligotti’s The Conspiracy Against the Human Race, puppets and puppetry frequently symbolize this tangling of ontological hierarchy: what should be at the ‘inferior’ level of a manipulated manikin suddenly achieves agency, and, even more horrifying, what is at a supposedly ‘superior’ level of the puppet master suddenly finds itself drawn into the marionette theatre. Ligotti writes that it is a terrible fate indeed


‘When a human being becomes objectified as a puppet and enters a world that he or she thought was just a creepy place inside ours. What a jolt to find oneself a prisoner in this sinister sphere, reduced to a composite mechanism looking out at the land of the human, or that which we believe to be human by any definition of it, and yet to be exiled from it.’

With Ligotti, it is not clear which is the most terrifying prospect – an ultimate puppet master pulling the strings or the strings fraying off into blind senseless chaos.

Tiso noticed something peculiar about the desire of the toys in the Toy Story series: ‘what they like best is to be played with by children. But it so happens that at those times they are limp and inanimate; as is the case whenever they are in the presence of people, their spark abandons them, their eyes become vacant.’ It’s as if the message of the Toy Story films rhymes with that of Ligotti’s pessimistic tract: consciousness is not a blessing bestowed on us by a kindly toymaker standing in for a beneficent God, but a loathsome curse.



Kierkegaard’s Paradox



Dennis Potter’s Brimstone and Treacle features a young Mkichael Kitchen as the evil. In an echo of Potter’s earlier ‘visitation’ plays, Kitchen’s character, Martin, inveigles himself into people’s lives and homes by cold reading them like a stage hypnotist.

Potter’s vision of evil is a million miles away from the white-catting portentousness or Pacino-like histrionics to which countless clichéd cinema renders have accustomed us. Kitchen’s devil is impeccably polite, insufferably, cloyingly nice, sanctimoniously religiose. “Religiose” is a word Potter used with particular contempt, carefully contrasting its pious pomposity with what he saw as the genuine religious sensibility.

The play pens with two epigraphs: the first from Kierkegaard’s  Fear and Trembling: ‘There dwells infinitely more good in a demoniac than in a trivial person”, the second from Mary Poppins (“A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down”). Fr Kierkegaard, the most pressing danger for Christianity was not doubt, but the kind of bluff certainty peddled by the pompous philosophers like Hegel. Kierkegaard’s Faith was indistinguishable from terrible anxiety. The paradox of faith for Kierkegaard was that, if God completely revealed himself, Faith would be unnecessary. Faith is not a form of knowing; on the contrary. Kierkegaard’s models were Abraham on the day he was asked to sacrifice Isaac and Jesus’s disciples: tormented by the uncertainty, unmoored from any of society’s ethical anchors, staking their lives on fabulous improbabilities.



The Passion of Christ



Zizek is right to challenge the smug and lazy culturalist consensus that religious conviction is inherently pathological and dangerous. But he is wrong to suggest that what is important about Passion is belief. Gibson’s Gnostic vision – which is simply Christ’s ethical Example rescued from the institutionalized religion that has systematically distorted it in his name – makes the two traditional supports of religious belief irrelevant,. Astonishingly, The Passion of Christ demonstrates that neither Revelation nor Tradition are important for those seeking to become-Christ(ian). What matters is not so much whether the events described in the film really happened – and there is no reason to doubt that something resembling them did – but the life-practice which  the Christy story narrates.
Life as parable.


Let’s dismiss first of all the idea that the film is anti-semitic. Certainly, the first half of the film threatens to invite this interpretation. In the run-up to Jesus’ arrest, the film appears to depict the Jewish religious authorities as near-subhuman monsters, while the Roman imperial powers are viewed sympathetically, as benign puzzled observers of a distasteful local conflict amongst the people they have colonized. (In this respect, Gibson appears to buy into the anti-Jewish narrative retrospectively imposed by the Roman Catholic Church once it had come to its concordat with the Roman Empire and was keen to excuse its new masters of any responsibility for the crucifixion.

But once the notorious beating scene happens, the film goes through an intensive threshold. Here, the Roman soldiers are seen to be gratuitously cruel psychopaths, whose excessive zeal in punishing Jesus exceeds any ‘duty.’ It is clear by now that The Passion of Christ has no ethnic axe to grind: it is about the stupidity and cruelty of the human species, but more importantly, about an escape route from the otherwise meaningless and nihilistic cycle of abuse begetting abuse that is human history.

The Gnostic flashes that surface in the Gospels are given full weight in Gibson’s film. “My kingdom is not of this world.” But Gibson refuses to give any comfort to those life-deniers and body-haters that Nietzsche rightly excoriates in his many attacks on Christianity. There is little supernatural or transcendent dimension to The Passion’s vision. If Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, Gibson gives us few reasons to assume that this kingdom will be the Platonic heaven of which those tired of the body dream.

The World which Christ rejects is the Word of Lies, the consensual hallucinations of established power and authority. By contrast, Christ’s kingdom only subsists whenever there is an Affectionate Collectivity. In other words, it exists not as some deferred supernatural reward, but in the Ethical actions of those, who in becoming-Christ, keep his spirit alive. Again, it is important to stress that this spirit is not some metaphysical substance, but a strictly material abstract machine that can be instantiated only through actions and practices. Loving God and loving others more than yourself are pre-conditions for dissolving your ego and gaining deliverance from the Hell of Self.  .  .

Christ’s Example is simply this: it is better to die than to pass on abuse virus or in any way vindicate the idiot vacuity and stupidity of the World of authority.



Hitchcock Films

In Looking Awry, Zizek compares Hitchcock’s “phallic” montage with the “anal” montage of conventional cinema:


‘Let us take, for example, a scene depicting the isolated home of a rich family encircled by a gang of robbers threatening to attack; the scene gains enormously in effectiveness if we contrast the idyllic everyday life within the house with the threatening preparations of the criminals outside: if we show in alteration the happy family dinner, the boisterousness of the children, the father’s benevolent reprimands, etc., and the ‘sadistic’ smile of a robber, another checking his knife or gun, a third grasping the house’s balustrade. How would Hitchcock shoot the scene? The first thing to remark is that the content of this scene does not lend itself to Hitchcockian suspense insofar as it rests upon a single counterpoint of idyllic interior and threatening exterior. We should therefore transpose this ‘flat’, horizontal doubling of the action onto a vertical level: the menacing horror should be placed outside, next to the idyllic interior but well within it: under it, as its ‘repressed’ underside. Let us imagine, for example, the same happy family dinner shown from the point of view of a  rich uncle, their invited guest. In the midst of dinner, the guest (and together with ourselves, the public) suddenly ‘sees too much,’ observes what he is not supposed to notice, some incongruous detail arousing in him the suspicion that the hosts plan to poison him in order to inherit his fortune. Such a ‘surplus of knowledge’ has so to speak an abyssal effect […] the action is in ay redoubled in itself, endlessly reflected as in a double mirror play . . .things appear in a totally different light, though they stay the same.’


Public Services


It’s hard to believe that public services are not more clogged with bureaucracy than they were pre-Thatcher. Certainly education is choked with stuff . . .targets, action plans, log books, all of them required conditions by the Learning and Skills Council, and assessed by Ofsted, whose threat no longer takes the form of an invasive external entity arriving every two years, but has become introjected into the institution  itself, through the permanent panoptic vigilance of a bloated managerial strata determined to over-compensate in order to fully ensure it is meeting central government’s demands. This is the reality of ‘market Stalinism’ in education.
 

Is there way to challenge or roll back the slow, implacable, rapacious proliferation of bureaucracy? Only by collective action that seems inconceivable now . . .Only by a change in the ideological climate . . . Only by a switch in the cultural atmosphere . . .Where to start? While we search desperately for cracks in the Possible, bureaucracy, that steel spider, patiently spins its grey web . . .



[While the representations of conventional film pose the interior/exterior antinomy, we live in a state of Hitchcockian suspense, eh?]



Freud

The strongest compulsive influence arises from the impressions which impinge upon the child when we would have to regard his psychic apparatus as not yet completely receptive. The fact cannot be doubted; but it is  so puzzling that we may make it more comprehensible by comparing it to a photographic exposure which can be developed after any interval of time and transformed into a picture.’  ( Moses and Monotheism)


[this influence is most characteristic with respect to a child’s first exposures to adult sexuality, no matter from whom or how, it will always be ‘traumatic’, in its essential character violent and humiliating- whatever ‘disavowals’ occur in official culture. . .to tie some of Fisher’s ‘strings’ together]



Entrepreneurialism



Neoliberalism, my have been sustained by a myth of entrepreneurialism, a myth that the folk economics of programs like The Apprentice and Dragon’s Den have played their parts in propagating, but the kind of ‘entrepreneurs that dominate our culture –whether they be Bill Gates, Simon Cowell or Duncan Bannatyne – have not invented new products or forms, thy have just invented new ways of making money. Good for them, no doubt, but hardly something that the rest of us should be grateful for (the genius of Cowell was to have plugged a very old cultural form into new machineries of inter-passivity.) And for all the bluster about entrepreneurialism, it is remarkable how risk-averse late capitalism’s culture is- there has never been a culture more homogenized and standardized, more repetitive and fear-driven.

I was struck  by an article Caitlin Moran wrote in the wake of the announcement that Jonathan Ross is to leave the BBC. ‘ After Ross’ $18 million contract’, Moran wrote,



‘endless fretting pieces were written, asking whether the BBC should ever try to compete with ITV 1’s salaries. The real question, however, is ‘what would happen to the BBC if it didn’t? If the only people who work for the BBC are those in it for the sheer love of it –those who would piously turn down double the wages from ITV- the BBC would rapidly become the middle-class liberal pink panty-waist institution of the Daily Mail’s nightmares, and, I suspect, fold in five years.’

Really? ITV’s high salaries, when they can afford to pay them, were hardly guarantees of quality; and the idea that Ross is one of us because he was ‘quick, edgy, silly nerd-dandy, into Japanese anime and rackety new guitar bands’ presupposes a model of ‘alternative’ as shop-worn and discredited as New Labor. Note that Moran fully accepts the neoliberal logic whereby ‘talent’ is only motivated by money. (the return of the concept of ‘talent’, with all its de-punking implications, was perhaps the mot telling cultural symptom of the last decade; while the application of the word to bankers was its sickest joke.)

Catching Fire

There’s a punk immanence about Catching Fire which I haven’t seen in any cultural product in a long time.- a contagious self-reflexivity that bleeds out from the film and corrodes the commodity culture that frames it. Adverts for the movie seem like they belong in the movie, and, rather than a case of empty self-referentiality, this has the effect of decoding the dominant social reality.  Suddenly, the dreary gloss of capital’s promotional cyber-blitz becomes naturalized. If the movie calls out to us through the screen, we also pass over into its world, which turns out to be ours, seen clearer now some distracting scenery is removed. Here it is: a neo-Roman cyber-gothic barbarism, with lurid cosmetics and costumery for the rich, hard labor for the poor. The poor get just enough high tech to make sure they are always connected to the Capitol’s propaganda feed. Reality TV as a form of social control- a distraction and subjugatory spectacle that naturalizes competition and forces the subordinate class to fight it out to the death for the delectation of the ruling class. Sound familiar?

Unemployed Negativity wrote of the first film:

‘It is not enough that the participants kill each other, but in doing so they must provide a compelling persona and narrative. Doing so guarantees them good standing in their odds and means that they will be provided with assistance by those who are betting on their victory. Before they entered the arena they were given make-overs and are interviewed like contenders on American Idol. Gaining support of the audience is a matter of life and death.’

This is what keeps the Tributes sticking to their reality TV-defined meat puppet role. The only alternative is death.

But what if you choose death?. This is the crux of the first film, and I turned to Bifo when I tried to write about it. “Suicide is the decisive political act of our times.’ Katniss and Peeta’s threat of suicide is the only possible act of insubordination in The Hunger Games.  And this is insubordination, NOT resistance. As the two most acute analysts of Control society, Burroughs and Foucault, both recognized, resistance is not a challenge to power; it is, on the contrary, that which power needs. No power without something to resist it. No power without a living being as its subject. When they kill us, they can no longer see us subjugated. A being reduced to whimpering – this is the limits of power,. Beyond that lies death. So only if you act as if you are dead can you be free. This is Katniss’ decisive step into becoming a revolutionary, and in choosing death, she wins back her life – or the possibility of a life no longer lived as a slave-subordinate, but as a free individual.



Hippies

The hippies sloppy, ill-fitting clothes, unkempt appearance and fuzzed-out psychedelic fascist drug talk displayed a distain for sensuality characteristic of the Western master class (‘Hey man, it’s all about the MIND.”)

When hippies rose from their supine hedono-haze to assume power (a very short step), they brought their contempt for sensuality with them. Brute functional utilitarianism plus aesthetic sloppiness and an imperturbable sense of their own rights are the hallmarks of the bourgeois sensibility (look at all those shops in Stoke Newington that say they’ll open ‘tennish’, and you know exactly what class you are dealing with).

The hippie power class wanted power without having to o to the effort of power dressing. Naturally, middle-class hippie ‘feminists’ never missed a stride in their move from alleged egalitarianism to supercilious judgementalism. What is the disdain for cosmetics and clothes if not an attack on the working class? The assumption of bourgeois so-called feminists is that their lives of neurotic bed-hopping ‘freedom’ and Carrie Bradshawing perpetual adolescent equivocation are better than the working-class pattern of (once) getting married and (now) having children young, when it is clear that it is nothing but another trap- and not necessarily a more congenial one.

Now the bourgeois philistines have destroyed glam and returned us to their preferred aesthetic mode: Romanticism. The contemporary bourgeois Romantic has realized Romanticism in its most distilled form yet. The so-called Romantic poets, musicians and painters of the late eighteenth and early-nineteenth century remained sensualists, whereas our contemporary Romantics are defined by their view that sensuality is at best an irrelevance, a distraction from the important business of the expression of subjectivity.

Romanticism is the dressing up of Teenage Ontology as an aesthetic cosmology. Teenage Ontology I governed by the conviction that what really matters is interiority: how you feel inside, and what your experiences and opinions are. In this sense, the sloppy drunkard Ladette Tracy Emin is one of the most Romantic artists ever. Like Lads- the real inheritor of the hippie legacy –Emin’s bleary ,blurry, beery, leery, lairy anti-sensualist sensibility is an advert for the vacuity of her own preferences.

What we find in Emin, Hirst, Whiteread and whoever the idiot was who rebuilt his dad’s house in the Tate is a disdain for the artificial, for art as such, in a desperately naif bid to (re)represent that pre- Warholian, pre-Duchampian, pre-Kantian unadorned Real. Like our whole won’t –get-fooled-again PoRoMo culture, what they fear above all is being glamoured. Remember that glamour means, ‘Any artificial interest in, or association with an object, through which it appears delusively magnified or glorified.


Defeating the Hydra

According to the merging orthodoxy in certain sections of the British media, just about any attempt to offer economic, political or sociological explanation for al-Qaeda’s emergence is tantamount to an expression of sympathy for its aims and methods. As Savonarola has pointed out, the PBL and other reactionaries attempted in the immediate aftermath of Thursday to make the very word ‘political’ a slander as they desperately cast about trying to establish a period of non-reflection in which ‘politics’ and thought could be suspended – a period, that is to say, in which their politics and their non-thinking could be imposed as the default response.

The most facile and stupid example of this type of argument might have been Nick Cohen’s piece in the Observer today, rightly excoriated by Lenin (I say ‘might’ because the amount of shrill stupidity, sentimental nonsense and emotional pornography churned out by the hacks over the last few days has reached new levels of stupefaction, as the miserable reality of  central London’s rapacious Hobbesian inferno, where folks will beat you to death rather than let you get into the Tube ten seconds before them, has  been magically transformed by the bombs and media fairy dust into the very essence of an underdog England in which it is WWII forever: to the sound of choruses of ‘maybe it’s because I’m Londahner’ ringing out from the ghosts of the music halls, journos have shamelessly done themselves up as pearly kings and queens, taking on the role of celebrants of a Fantasy London which is as convincing as Dick Van Dyke’ accent in Mary Poppins.) The ‘agalma’, the special treasure, of this London resides in the status of the ‘heroic victim’ that a disaster such as this re-confirms. A dangerous logic takes hold: we’re under attack, we must be Good.

The supernaturalism of al-Qaeda is crucial to this strategy. If we are the Good, it can only be the senseless Evil, the irrationally jealous, who would want to attack us. (This mode of bewildered self aggrandizing is as crucial to a certain version of American identity as spam-eating-make do-and mend-what-you-complaining-about-that-severed-leg-for dour fortitude is crucial to Blitz Englishness.) Needless to say, the positing of an ethnic subject- We, the Good – whose innate virtue is reconfirmed by being attacked is constitutive of both al-Qaeda and the post-91 US mindset. A military asymmetry is doubled by a fantasmatic symmetry.

To talk of al-Qaeda in the theological (rather than in political, social or economic) terms is to adopt their mode of discourse in an inverted form. It is a return to the pre-Feurbachian, pre-sociological perspective in which all the lessons of the nineteenth and twentieth century studies of the social psychology of religion – undertaken by figures as diverse as Durkheim, Marx, Weber, Nietzsche and Freud – are forgotten. If a particular strain of religion is to be understood as, in Cohen’s words, ‘an autonomous psychopathic force’ rather than as a social, economic and psychological phenomena with complex cause, then all hope of reasoned analysis is a priori ruled out. Unreason is abjected onto the enemy (even as it is evinced in one’s own not even minimally coherent ravings, thus legitimizing that ‘the only option’ is military force. . .



destroy all their infrastructure, kill all the operatives: but you will have only created more images of atrocity, indestructible and infinitely re-playable repositories of affect, which, by demanding response and producing (usually an entirely justified) recrimination, act as the best intensifiers and amplifiers of Terror.

[ At this point, due to considerations of length, I’ll have to shorten-up my notes, abbreviating more vigorously, confine myself to identifying key concepts and sources in Fisher’s writings. It seems to me that his idea of ‘Capitalist Realism’ creates an impasse or deadlock in the K-punk project. On the one hand he regards it as an overwhelmingly powerful ‘iron web’ or prison impossible to escape except in whatever existential freedom might be available by being fully conscious of it in the greatest theoretical detail possible. Contradictorily, he also regards it as a fragile ‘house of cards’ which, if only one can be pulled away by, for instance, a student strike,  the rest will crumble into the dust. So he is smitten by turns with the depressing vision of a Moloch Empire, and, to use his own term for others, a ‘naif’ expectation of imminent redemption. In this inner dialectic  he misses, with some exceptions, the interstitial opportunities for change identified by Erik Olin Wright and had difficulty maintaining the sense of a long term strategy which sustains genuine hope. Neither did he take much notice of social and political developments elsewhere than in the UK and US, rather more that he reproduced in himself ‘Island Mentality’ historically associated with Britain, and even more so the English. This is made depressingly clear in the interviews section of the book where he struggles to say anything new. Nor  did have have the advantage of an interlocutor that Avital Ronell had in the Parisian psychiatrist  Anne Dufourmantelle, her silent yet equally brilliant partner in self-discovery.]





 Privatization of Stress

The radical therapist David Small gives the immensely suggestive name magical volunteerism to the view that ‘with the expert help of your therapist or counsellor, you can change the world you are in the last analysis responsible for, so that it no longer causes you stress . . .a kind of psychic entrepreneurialism widely promoted in popular culture which underrates the need for collective (pubic) action to change the conditions of the world that press down upon you.



The Proletarian-Bohemian Circuit


See the previous blog post

Wikileaks

The authoritarian Big Other has always relied upon maintaining a clear difference between off-the-record utterances and official proclamations, but it is precisely this distinction which Wikileaks (and its successors) threaten to abolish.



Hacking Scandal

Hack exculpations appeal to a market Hobbesianism: they are giving people what they want but what they won’t admit to liking. When, pickled in the jouissance of self-loathing and their other stimulants of choice, the hacks style themselves as ‘princes of darkness’, they see themselves as reflecting the public’s own disavowed cynicism back to it. Nobody likes working in sewers, but don’t you all love the pretty little globules of sensation that we dredge up for you? […] our public life is a mess of officially sanction fairy tales, crocodilian excuses, and grotesque abuses of the innocent in which market forces and elite prerogatives set the limits of our understanding and hence our capacity for self-government.. .The neo-liberal tabloid is an almost too crude diagram of a Burroughsian biocontrol apparatus: stimulating hedonic excess on the one hand while condemning it on the other. Surveillance need only be virtual. There’s always something potentially shaming that can be dragged out of the closet, for whose fantasy life is not humiliating when exposed to the glare of the Big Other?

Time-Wars

We subjects of late of capitalism act as if there is an infinite time to waste on work.



Outrage



Outrage reflects a fundamental political  misunderstanding, both of our opponents and of the war they are waging. Such outrage, as Wendy Brown puts it in her crucial essay Moralism as Anti-Politics ‘implicitly figure the state (and other mainstream institutions) as if it did not have specific political and economic investments, as if it were not the codification of various dominant social powers, but was, rather, a momentarily misguided parent who forgot her promise to treat all her children the same way.’ We too often behave as if we were engaging in a liberal debate with ungentlemanly opponents, whose social power will evaporate once the ‘errors’ in their arguments are pointed out.

Benefit Scroungers



The reason why it’s so easy to whip up loathing for ‘benefit scroungers’ is that – in the reactionary fantasy – they have escaped the suffering of  those that have to submit. This fantasy tells its own story: the hatred for benefits claimants is really how much people hate their on work. Others should suffer as we do: the slogan of negative solidarity that cannot imagine any escape from the immiseration of work. . . but the unemployed to not escape this condition – the simulation tasks that they are now induced to perform in order to qualify for benefit are more than preparation for the futility of paid work, they already work (for what is so much ‘real ‘ work if not an act of simulation? You don’t just have to work, you have to be seen working, even when there’s no ‘work’ to do . . .



Neo-Anarchists



The horizontal left believes the rhetoric about the obsolescence of the state. The danger of the neo-anarchist critique is that it essentialises the state, parliamentary democracy and ‘mainstream media’ – but none of these things is forever fixed. They are mutable terrains to be struggled over, and the shape they now assume is itself the effect of previous struggles. It seems, at times, as if the horizontalists want to occupy everything except the parliament and the mainstream media .. But why not occupy the state and the media too? Neo-anarchism isn’t so much of a challenge to capitalist realism as one of its effects. Anarchist fatalism – according to which it is easier to imagine the end of capitalism than a left-wing Labor Party- is the complement of the capitalist realist insistence that there is no alternative to capitalism.



Polls

Always ignore the polls, wrote Jeremy Gilbert late on election night:


‘you’d get a better sense of what’s going on with the electorate by sniffing the wind, sensing the affective shifts, the molecular currents, the alterations in the structures of feelings. Listen to the music, watch TV, go to the pubs and ride the tube. Cultural Studies trumps psephology every time.



England

‘What hope for a country where people will camp out for three days to glimpse the Royal Couple? England is like some stricken beast too stupid to know it is dead. Ingloriously foundering in its own waste products, the backlash and bad karma of empire.

- William Burroughs, The Place of Dead Roads


The Red and the Blue

Real wealth is the collective capacity to produce, care and enjoy. This is Red Plenty. We, and they, have had it wrong for a while: it is not that we are anti-capitalist, it is that capitalism, with all its visored cops, its teargas, all the theological niceties of its economics, is set up to block Red Plenty. The attack on capital has to be fundamentally based on the simple insight that far from being about ‘wealth creation’, capital necessarily and always blocks our access to this common wealth,. Everything for everyone. All of us first.

Labor has allowed election after election to be fought not on the Red terrain of re-socialization, but on the Blue territory of identitarian community, with its border guards (we have as many as you!) and barbed wire fences (they will be as high as yours!). The genius of the o progressive forces which have seized the SNP, meanwhile, was to a have moved from the Blue of the identitarian community –and the nationalism of colonized peoples is of course very different to the nationalism of the colonisers-to the Red of internationalist cosmopolitan conviviality. . . As opposed to the essentially spatial image of Blue belonging – which posits a bounded area, with those inside hostile and suspicious towards those who are excluded - Red belonging is temporal and dynamic. It is about belonging to a movement: a movement that abolishes the present state of things, a movement that offers unconditional care without community (its doesn’t matter where you come from or who you are, we will care for you anyway.)


Hope (Spinoza)

We don’t need hope; what we need is confidence and capacity to act. ‘Confidence’, Spinoza agues, ‘ is a joy arising from the idea of a past or future object from which cause for doubting has been removed’. Yet it is very difficult, even at the best of times, for subordinated groups to have confidence, because for  them/us there are few if any ‘future objects from which the cause of doubting is removed.’

Hope and fear are essentially interchangeable; they are passive affects which arise from our incapacity to actually act. Like all superstitions. Hope is something we call upon when we have nothing else . . .whereas hope and fear are superstitious, confidence is essentially hyperstitional: it immediately increases the capacity to act, the capacity to act increases confidence, and so on- a self-fulfilling prophesy, a virtuous spiral. Here’s a definition of hyperstition, which, again is the other side of superstitions but this also has its contradiction and impasse:
https://www.facebook.com/notes/john-shaplin/in-a-time-of-zealotry-/2513941748679383/



The Demise of Communism



When communism was defeated, it wasn’t just a particular ideology that disappearance but also the disappearance of modernism’s Promethean dream of a total transformation of human society. The positive content of communism’, Michel Hardt argued, ‘which corresponds  to the abolition of private property, is the autonomous production of humanity – a new seeing, a new hearing, a new thinking, a new loving.’


The arrival of what I call Capitalist Realism- the widespread acceptance that there is no alternative to capitalism – therefore means the
 end of these new productive , perceptual, cognitive and libidinal possibilities. It meant that  we could reduced to the same old seeing, hearing thinking, loving. . .forever. Fredric Jameson long ago argued that postmodernism was the cultural logic of late capitalism, and the feature that Jameson claimed were characteristic of the postmodern-, the collapse of historicity, suspension of novelty by  pastiche and recapitulation - are now ubiquitous. The only future  that capital can reliably deliver is technological – we count historical time not in cultural shifts but in technological upgrades, watching the same old things on higher definition screens . . .



Therapeutic Society
a minimalist pastiche of Thomas Szasz, Giorgio Antonucci, R. D. Laing, Franco Basaglia, Theodore Lidz, Silvano Arieti, and David Cooper. Others involved were L. Ron Hubbard, Michel Foucault and Erving Goffman. Cooper coined the term "anti-psychiatry" in 1967, and wrote the book Psychiatry and Anti-psychiatry in 1971 and the precursors but I do agree that these efforts to portray folks as fragile and vulnerable and the application of the ‘science of psychology in schools and welfare agencies, and in journalism has been at the very least, botched badly all at the expense of a more intense commitment to the humanities in general. He doesn’t even mention the libertarian ‘Self-esteem” movement, a kind of plague in American public education against which, however, there are still ways to gain immunity.