Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Incarcerate me, please

To:
The Wardens of Jale, The Hard Yard, and Windy City Lockdown

From:
Yours truly

Re:
Doin' Time

Dear Sir or Madam:

I write with the utmost sincerity to express my desire to find a place among your latest shipment of inmates. I seek the flogging, torture, and purging that your esteemed houses of suffering are known to offer. I long to lose years of my life, to expend the productive days of my youth, in your dark halls and musty cells. The prospects of gainful employment and active participation in "normal" society pale in comparison to the promise of fruitless toil, abuse, and self-doubt afforded by your illustrious chain gangs. I look forward to meeting your guards, notorious for their inflated egos, and to receive the discipline they offer, to submit to their ways and solve my "failure to commun'cate". Solitary confinement? I shall relish it. Watery porridge, occasionaly trembling with maggots? Please sir, may I have some more? The fear of dishonorable deeds done to me by fellow inmates while showering? This too, I shall weather.

I wait with anxious anticipation for my conscription, my cell block number, and my striped or orange jumpsuit, whichever style you prefer.

Thank you for your consideration.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

The Battle Rageth On...

My dear mother, ever the active learner and incessant student, has been taking classes at her local seminary in the Washington, D.C. area. We've had many conversations about the scarily fundamentalist nature of the school and the questionable things it is teaching. As we've talked I've found myself consistently at odds with the things she's learning in class. She often just laughs at the exceptions I take, chalking it up to the various theological differences that make up our diverse global church. But now it's starting to hit closer to home for her. Here is an excerpt of an email response she received after trying to sign up for a preaching class at her school:

"The sermon preparation and delivery courses are virtually the only courses not open to women in the Seminary. The reason is that sermons are normally given by the senior spiritual leadership in a local church, which is a role assigned to men in Scripture. If the Seminary were to admit women into the two courses it would be indirectly endorsing having women as elders and senior spiritual leaders over churches. Your desire to use the kind of techniques presented in the course as a Bible teacher of women and young people is understandable. At this point the only option remaining would be to address the issue to Dr. ___'s attention. Be assured that the Seminary is attempting to follow the Biblical mandate for gender roles in the church. It is not trying to place unnecessary restrictions on opportunities available to women. "

Mind you, she had never said anything about only planning to teach women and kids; this was simply assumed by the respondent.
It all makes my blood boil. Ah the blinders! Ah the excuses! Ah the fallacies!

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Fantastic!

Newsroom > WWF Press Release

Mysterious Animal Photographed in Borneo
For Release: 12/06/2005

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

My Own Private Indiana

So it's Sunday afternoon, and I'm on the place back from DC to Chicago. US Airways flight 3335. About 30 minutes outside of Chicago, the pilot gets on and says,
"Sorry ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately we're gonna have to divert our plane to Indianapolis. We have a low reading on one of our hydraulic systems and we need to land as soon as possible. Too much air traffic in Chicago means that we'll be circling for a while and we don't want to take that risk."
Great. You gotta be kidding. So freaking close to home.
So the flight attendants get on the com and start telling everyone remove all items from the seat pocket in front of you. They stress especially any large or hard items. I think to myself,
"Shit, their gonna ask us to assume crash position."
The pilot gets on again to explain,
"Ladies and gentlemen, the situation is that our front wheel may not respond and we may not be able to steer. So, as a precaution, there will be fire trucks on the runway. No need to be alarmed about this."
Several passengers chuckle. One makes wise cracks. The woman in front of me looks out her window nervously. She's not amused.
So, we come in for landing. No instructions to assume crash position. I guess it's no that bad. I look out and see at least ten bright yellow fire trucks, lights flashing, lining various parts of the runway. We come in and land and it's the softest, most gentle landing I can remember. People sigh. The fire trucks mobilize and follow us at a distance on both sides, a bright gauntlet of welcome.
So, we deplane at the gate and wait for further instructions.
"It's Thanksgiving weekend, the busiest travel time. Please be patient as we figure out what to do with you."
Thirty minutes later the announcement comes out,
"Ladies and gentlemen, your plane is being taken to a hangar for repairs. Unfortunately, there are no spare planes available. We have no flights out until tomorrow (Monday) evening. We are happy to put you up in a hotel."
What? You gotta be kidding. I'm not staying a night here. I gotta be at work. I gotta be at O'Hare in a few hours to pick up MarianEvans from her inbound flight. I gotta move on with my life.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are exploring the possibility of a bus to Chicago. Please put your name on a sign-up list. Also, you are welcome to rent a car. We can't pay for this up front, but we recommend you rent one and send a letter to customer relations and hopefully they will reimburse you."
Hopefully? Crap, it's a risk I gotta take. So I go to the Enterprise counter and explain the situation and that I need to rent a car. No problem, plenty of cars available. Whew. Only $55 a day. Great. "What, you are driving one way to Chicago and won't be returning the car here?" "Um, hello, yes, that's the idea." "We'll since it's interstate and one way, we'll need to charge you a drop fee, since we'll need to drive the car back ourselves. The fee is... let's see here... $400." Fantastic. Couldn't be better. Sure, I'll take it. (US Airways, you better cover my ass here!)
So I rent the car, totally smooth process with peachy keen smiley Enterprise lady, ex sorority girl who partied too hard in college. (Why are ALL enterprise salespeople ex frat boys or sorority girls? I have major issues with the enterprise "type" they recruit.)
So I get on 465, then 65 and drive my ass the 3.5 hours from Indianapolis to Chicago, amidst light rain and thanksgiving traffic, all the while hacking up a lung with this cough that won't go away, and out $400 and hoping I don't get stiffed by this piece of crap airline, having just had my first emergency landing experience, and really wanting to be home, warm and in bed.
Fuck.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Too little, too late

Current war protesters annoy me.

When I heard about that huge march on washington a few months back, I just rolled my eyes.
When I heard all the hoopla about what's her face down there camped in front of our turkey-in-chief's house, I just shook my head.
When an upstanding, republican acquaintance of mine said his confidence in Mr Pres was eroding, I just smiled while inside I boiled.

Look, all you newbies, this is as much sense as I can make of your newfound outrage:
1) Perhaps your quota of death has now been reached. "A few soldiers dying, well, that's ok. It's for a good cause, the cause of liberty, democracy, freeeeedom. But now, gosh darn it, just too many have died. It's too much, bring em home. Lets just stop whatever the hell it is we're doin and pull out. "
2) Maybe your attention span has reached its limits. "Damn, this here war's taking too long. We shoulda been done n gone b'now. I can't sustain this kind of focus, let's put an end to it. "
3) Similarly, has your patience run its course? "Now, i was behind you when this thing got going, but, dog gonnit, it's taking too long. Too long. Just finish up already."
4) Are yours financial concerns? "These here tax dollars should be going to other things. What about schools, healthcare, Katrina relief?"
5) Did you suffer personal loss? "I was 100% behind the war, waving those flags. But now that my boy has died over in Fallujah, well, now, all of a sudden, I'm against this war. Shame on you mr Pres, shame on you. Now that you took away my kid, now my principles have changed."


I dont mean to sound self-righteous (Im as apathetic as the next chump) but arent you turkey's a bit late and getting on board for all the wrong reasons? Shouldnt you have been against the war because it was unjust, because it was a farce, because it was so obviously started for reasons we weren't being told, because it went against the international community, shunned diplomacy, and broke with consensus war theory (ie preemptive)? No, you jackasses were right up front waving the red, white and blue and egging on the warmongers in the name of God and country. You were behind "God's man in the whitehouse" 100%.

But now, oh now, things have changed. Should the war boys have cleaned up their shit quicker? Should they have waged injustice at less cost and casualty? Should you not now have to fork over the change to fund your adventures in bullshit? Or now, because you personally had to pay a price and lose someone close to you, has your view suddenly changed? Are you all of a sudden ready to shout down this war that you helped start since you had to pay the ultimate price? Dont be a fair weather friend to our cowboy in chief. Stick by your man. You supported him, you rode with him into the streets of Baghdad in the name of capitalism. Don't abandon him now.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Thursday, October 13, 2005

One by one they fall...

It's like I was trying to get into this party, but kept finding out the people I wanted to hang with kept leaving. Then I says to myself, do I want to go to this party anymore? Not so sure.

1) Arjun Appadurai heads for New School

2) Anthropologist David Graeber "let go"

3) Eminent sociologist Paul Gilroy heads to London School of Economics


Saturday, October 01, 2005

Ed's Bunny

Ok, so I like animals. I was one of those kids who was raised on nature shows. Nature, Wild America, National Geographic, you name it, loved it. One reason ME and I click so well is that she was so similarly formed in that respect.

At any rate, over the past couple of years, I'd gotten into my mind that someday it would be nice to have a rabbit. I don't want one that just sits in a cage, eats food, poops out little pellets, eats the pellets, etc. I want a cuddly bunny, a floppy-eared, down-soft, Hazel or Fiver type bunny that will sit in my lap, maybe burrow under my arm, and just be all around cute. After all, I reasoned, aren't bunnies just warm, pliable, compliant, safe and quiet. Aren't they about the closest we can get in a pet to some sort of stuffed animal. Sure, they hop around, but they don't seem squirmy, don't seem contrary, seem like they'd just be happy to sit quietly and be petted.



Enter Ed's bunny. We went over to Ed's house a few months back and lo and behold, I discover he's got one of them cute buggers. It's holed up on the laundry room, with its cage and some boxes for it to hide in. Ed lets me in after I, giddy with childish glee, ask if I can see it. Ed gives me some pellets to feed to it, telling me it's a bit shy (naturally, of course) and that I can lure it out of hiding with the snacks.

I peek into a crevice between two boxes and there is, sitting and watching me. I hold out my hand with nothing in it, to see if I can simply coax it out sans bribe. It wiggles its nose, sniffing. No take. Ok, so I put down some pellets. Out moves the bunny bus, a large, sausage shaped, rather ugly (I must confess) rabbit, with scrunched face and wee beady eyes. It eats the pellets and stays out for a bit, looking at me. I hold out my hand again, to see if it will be comfortable with me, it sniffs the air and backs away, able to tell I've got no food. So I repeat the food lure.

Ok, it's a bit odd looking, rather brutish, but, hey, its a frickin' bunny; it's still fuzzy and cuddly. I just gotta pet it. I just need to scratch it behind the ears, or rub its soft pelt. So I move my hand towards the top of its head, making those cooing and chuffling noises some of us are prone to do around little fuzzy things. Gradually my hand get near its head, having moved slowly to avoid startling it. It watches me, sniffing. When my hand is about two inches from its head, up it lunges, teeth bared, with a loud bark. If you've ever watched nature shows on monkeys and have heard a baboon bark, think that but of course not as loud. A short burst, a gutteral, grunting, Ewok-ish exhalation; a mini roar.



I jump back, withdrawing my hand just in time. Good God! What the hell just happened? Adrenaline pumping, I leave the laundry room a changed man.

I'm traumatized, my world has been turned upside down. Do I really want a bunny? Can it be that there are other bunnies out there with this rage? Are they not all quiet, subdued, warm and safe? How will I know? How can I cuddle in peace and security? I don't know if I will ever get a bunny at this rate.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Tickin' in my head

I once believed that transitioning from student life to work life would mean more free time. No more homework clogging my "off" time, no research, no writing papers, etc. Work would be, ahhh, stable, 9-5, free time galore, so much time for things like...blogging.

Well, work life is stable; but my lack of free time is also quite stable. How the hell do you 9-5'rs get anything done? Sheesh. I get home at 530 exhausted, barely scrape together dinner, eat, slouch, do a bit of necessary but annoying admin, and then go to bed.

My work situation is a lock down. No internet time, in fact no internet on our computers. So, unlike Gaunilo, I cannot make more productive use of my work time by blogging. Hence, the little free time I do find, the shards pieced together from the life shattered by a corporate jauggernaut (waah), are devoted to more pressing matters.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

It's been a long time since I rocked and rolled!

It's been a long time
been a long time
been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time!!!!!

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Barnum and Bailey's

Well folks, today is the day. ME and I must jump through one of those hoops they set out for idiots like us who pursue further education. In a few hours, we'll be doing high school geometry and word problems that will kick our asses, and trying to infer whether the author of the passage on desert cactus would "most likely agree" w/ which of the following forms of enema. If you think of us, send out a prayer, or, if you're not the prayin' type, send some well-wishes our way. Gracias!


Ole!

Thursday, July 28, 2005

.............Years

.................................poder vivir sin aire
como quisiera............................
me encantaria quererte.....................
............................................vivir sin ti

Pero no puedo.............................
...................................sin tu amor

Como quisiera................................
como quisiera..................................
..........................poder vivir sin agua
................................robar......................

Como......................
..............................................
.................................
.............................................
................................
..........................................tierra

...................quisiera
poder vivir sin.......

I'm going corporate

Yes, it's official. I am joining the corporate world. All that stuff about social justice and ragin' against capitalism, well, that's on hold right now while I try to make mad cash.


Say...Moltmannian...did you get the memo?


Dude...whah? Theobloggoliciasaurus?


Um...excuse me...I'd like my textus receptus with my stapler.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Hyperreal proliferates

Persistence of History

The Wall Street Journal today ran a lead article about websites like Google and Wayback Machine that archive pages. Years of websites that are currently unavailable because they've been dismantled have been stored away. There is no way now to subvert the strands of time and feign a nonexistence: if you've had a web presence but need to make yourself scarce, you can't. This came up in various court cases, usually about domain and copyright infringement. Rather than "Googling," lawyers simply "Waybacked" to prove particular site owners were at one point in violation of certain codes or statutes, etc.

It appears that even the web world, the sphere of "time-space compression" (David Harvey) cannot escape historicization. History finds a way even there. Of course, it is a strange new history, one where the archive dominates. Rather than a narrative, it is a file.

The Gulf War Did Not Take Place (reprise)

While watching Access Holywood tonight (umm, for research of course), I was informed of a new television drama about the current gulf war. The creator of such classics as NYPD Blue is making a series that documents the trials of soldiers both in the field and off. They want to work in backstory, the struggle of the families, etc, and not just focus on "everyone going to the party / have a real good time / dancin' in the desert / blowin' up the sunshine".

The producers are getting flack mainly because the war is still going on and some find this distasteful and in poor judgment. But I think it's perfectly in order with the logic of our current times for the hyperreal to merge with the real and absorb it. We don't really know or care which one is real and which is the copy.

Baudrillard's little manifesto in response to father Bush's escapades-


- appears to be repeating itself.

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Jeet Kune Do and Postmodernity I

To the uninitiated, Bruce Lee is simply just another martial arts film star, like Jackie Chan or Jet Li. "Was he really any good?" some might ask. "Did he do those stunts? Did someone show him those moves?"

But for those familiar with the world of martial arts, the claim that Lee was one of the greatest martial artists in living memory is a familiar and justifiable one. Not only was he in top physical condition, having devised numerous training methods and exercises that were ahead of their time; he is also credited with developing a revolutionary approach to the martial arts. Jeet Kune Do- the way of the intercepting fist- is a collection of philosophical and methodological innovations that apply to combat arts, and, as many claim, to life more broadly.

There are many summaries on the web, so I won't belabor one. For a definitive introduction, I direct the reader to Lee's Tao of Jeet Kune Do, one of the most helpful martial books ever written. I will, however, review a few elements that pertain to this post:

Lee was dissatisfied with complex, "flowery," and smug approaches to the martial arts. Simplicity, efficiency, pragmatism became the mantras of his method. He critiqued the guarded traditions of "pure" and "authoritative" styles (e.g., Chang Chuan, Wing Chun, Tien Shan Pai, Choy Li Fut, etc.), believing they had come to stultify growth, innovation and development. Practitioners were burdened with learning and mastering thousands of movements kept alive less for their practicability and combat effectiveness than because of their being part of the tradition. Modern exponents were repeating movements designed for radically different combat contexts, like fighting with armor or on horseback or barefoot. After coming to the U.S. (Seattle and San Francisco), Lee began a productive career of writing, teaching and training, setting out these principles through what he initially called Jun Fan Kung Fu. (It was only much later, after much deserved fame in the martial arts world, that Lee came to the screen- with Fists of Fury (also called Chinese Connection) as his debut which initiated a new tradition of martial arts films.) Lee received much criticism from teachers back in China, as well as prominent martial artists in the U.S., for his perceived cheekiness, subverting tradition and iconoclastically dismantling the edifice of ossified and totalizing martial arts systems. Needless to say, he made a lot of enemies (later to feed into conspiracy theories surrounding his untimely death).


Lee demonstrating his famed "One-Inch Punch"

In many ways Lee's approach served as progenitor to the mixed-martial arts craze going on today, and to the popularity of events like the Ultimate Fighting Championship, which pits various styles and approaches against each other in a "real" fight setting. Schools teaching "JKD concepts" have cropped up everywhere, along with a (counterintuitive) obsession with lineage ("I was trained by X, one of Lee's original students...").

In some ways Lee's was seen as a truly "American" approach, cutting back the extraneous and traditional in the name of pragmatism and effectiveness. There may be something to this. But what strikes me are the postmodern undertones to his project (Lee was doing his work in the 60s-70s). He questioned the view of tradition as pristine, self-enclosed, and able to be passed on without alteration. He challenged conventional canons on martial art technique and training. Application of his method seemed to celebrate diversity and plurality (many have mistaken Jeet Kune Do as a hodgepodge or random sampling of different styles. While this is not the case, there are certain underlying principles that value diversity and that can lend this impression.) Pragmatism and practice served as touchstones over against the authority of tradition, origin, or aesthetics. His injunctions to "use no way as a way" or to "seek to be like water, formless and utterly adaptable," while admittedly Zen-inspired, seem akin to the shifting, transient sands of our current pomo playground.

In a later post, I want to explore the relationship of JKD to tradition, and hazard a way to think about this relationship that, while not only being helpful for martial arts practitioners, may be of use to philosophers in general.

Friday, July 15, 2005

diggin' in the dirt

One of the reasons I decided not to become a pastor was that I didn't want to inflict myself on others. Let me explain.

Within all the discussion of the requisite training and skills necessary for the ministry, it seems to me that one of the central traits often not given adequate attention is "people skills". A close second, and somewhat related, is emotional health.

At my seminary, there was one--maybe two--required course(s) dealing with counseling, and very little of the course material was focused on oneself. In other words, it was still about skills, about how to deal with "them," rather than fostering self-awareness about one's own issues. Most courses focused on content- Greek, exegesis, theology, church administration--all great and important things, but in my mind less important than what I want to address here.

Over the years I've encountered a few too many pastors who I don't think should be pastors. The immediate reason pertained to the more "surface" issue noted above, people skills. These pastors were shy, awkward, and apparently uncomfortable making conversation or interacting with people. This made me (and others with whom I conferred) uncomfortable--the awkwardness usually transfers. While perhaps well-intentioned, these pastors communicated a lack of concern for those with whom they interacted. They exuded an aura that conveyed "I'd rather be in my study" or "I'd rather be with those few people I know well" or even "I'd rather be watching the game".

I'm not being shallow here. I really think there are personality types and people with certain ways they interact socially who should not go into a line of work where their top priority is relationships. Yes, I know today we've got all our trendy divisions of labor: executive pastor, teaching pastor, administrative pastor, etc, etc. Granted, someone might operate successfully in a less people-oriented type of pastoral role (in my mind an oxymoron). But, in general, most pastoral positions involve interacting with, guiding and caring for a group of people who--if you are doing things right--will begin to work through their own baggage, go through painful growing experiences, and be in need of pastoring.

Because of this, pastors must be, to put it simply, good with people. They need to be able to be hospitable, to "shoot the breeze," to have deep conversation, to counsel, to hang out, to reconcile, apologize and forgive. This is the "people skills" aspect. Though I do not wish to re-assert the stereotype that studious, introverted people cannot be any of the aforementioned things, I've encountered a few too many pastors who are the latter without the former. (I've got a separate rant, by the way, for the buddy-buddy pastor who can chat your ear off and "kick it" with you but who's unreflective, a non-learner, and unable to teach. So, I'm not knocking the studious pastors.) I've met the pastors who seem shyer than I am, who don't know what to say, who seem aloof and detached. This is unacceptable.

The second aspect goes deeper, so it's less readily apparent. Pastors need to be working on their emotional maturity or emotional quotient. They need to be people who have spent time digging in the dirt of their past, of their baggage, of their own issues. How else do you expect to lead people through their own growth along such paths?

When I run my seminary some day, counseling (i.e. therapy for every student!) will be a required part of the program for ministry preparation. Individual counseling, small group discipleship and spiritual formation, caring for others, mentoring and being mentored--the works. In my view, facilitating the growing and maturing in grace is the top priority for institutions preparing spiritual leaders. Of course scriptural knowledge is essential and practical ministry skills are key, but forging a soul (or creating a space where God can forge it) should be first. There are too many people out there in ministry with their crap just leaking out, spewing out everywhere and infecting their relationships and the churches they influence. Sometimes only its effects are palpable while the source remains undetected.

Of course it's not about perfection, or having all your crap together. But it is about having made significant headway, having done some major house-cleaning, setting things in order. It's about having been on a path to wholeness for some time, having a firm foundation.

If you're a pastor or headed that way, and you haven't spent some time in counseling exploring your damage and seeking healing, I hope you make that choice. "But God hasn't called me to counseling yet. I've been called to ministry. I'm passionate and ready to serve." Well, consider this your call- God has reached through cyberspace and smacked your ass upside the head. Get your ass into counseling. Even if you're one of that 5% who truly have no deep-seated psychological issues, a little self-awareness never hurt anybody.

So, back to me. Though I like to think I've got fairly decent people skills, I do think I'm one of those people who partially fulfills the studious, introvert, shy and not-so-good-with-people mold. I've worked at it, done a lot to come out of my shell. But it's not good enough for what I believe the pastoral role requires. I'm not going to be one of those jackasses who makes others feel excluded or unwelcome because I'm hesitant to talk to them or can't find the words. Having encountered wonderfully gifted pastors who effortlessly mingle and talk and embrace, I'm confident I can leave the task to better men and women.

And while I've spent my share of time sorting through my baggage and own crap, there's more there. At this point it's too much to pour out on others. If the people skills, the surface attribute, were in place, I might be able to massage things to keep my crap under wraps effectively enough to minister well. But I am not in a place yet to, in the immortal words of Apone, "Secure that shit, Hudson!" And I'd have to say a few too many pastors I've encountered are not in that place either. Whether as drill sergeants barking orders and terrorizing their colleagues, or as passive-aggressive people-pleasers who let their insecurities rot the system and destroy morale, there are far too many idiots with serious emotional problems who could benefit from therapy before being in positions where their emotional/relational health is to be the central asset they bring to the job.

Now, I know things are more complicated than this, and, if I'd really felt an overwhelming call to the pastorate I'd probably be writing now about how you have to tough it out in the trenches of ministry and be healed in the process. There is something to that. A certain amount of healing and maturity will only come through the tensions of conflict resolution, negotiation, and partnering with others. A lot of the people skills pastors need will be acquired as they pastor. Since I felt a call in another direction it may be too easy for me to bash those heading for the pastorate who I deem unworthy. But I still firmly believe a substantial foundation of people skills and emotional health must be in place before one commences such a role. At the risk of criticism, I'll stand by my rant for the time being, happy to nuance it should that become necessary.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

What would Machiavelli say?

I'm proud to claim personal acquaintance with one of the shapers of the world of tomorrow. I can't assume he's part of the Pentaverate, but he is clearly part of a group with mad power and influence, one of the architects of the new highways and byways upon which we shall one day tread.

All I'm saying is, sign me up for "wetwear" as soon as it becomes affordable.

I'm ready.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

"You had me at Hillel"

When Jerry Maguire first came out, MarianEvans actually mis-heard Renee Zellweger's famous line, interpreting it as the title above suggests. Of course, given the odd nature of such a statement, Evans realized she was mistaken in her hearing. But I think her mistake is understandable, considering Zellweger's pinched, swollen-faced, puffy-cheeked visage, which has an indellible effect on her enunciation: "theeank youuu fer yer cyunsideraaation" .

But just imagine if this line had been used. What would be different? What might this film have been about? What is the plot? Who is Cruise's character? What's the story? Please, give me your ideas.


(On a different note, this line would be a fantastic title for a Jewish student union singles' mixer.)

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Monday, July 04, 2005

Self-commentary on aforementioned

While listening to Badiou, I was filled with mild fear and horror that his position stemmed from a superficial reading of Paul. It really seemed like he was advocating an almost Sunday-school version: the Bible says we are all one, so we shouldn't worry about differences, (can't we all just get along, blah blah blah). This was further complicated by the radical disjunction he saw between Paul and tradition ("Paul is not a philosopher"). Interestingly, this was not unlike the position advocated by Marion at the Lumen Christi lecture (cf. Gaunilo's summary). Christianity, it is claimed, is something opposed to and irreconcilable with philosophy. Thus, with Paul, we have a pristine, radically different perspective that establishes with (frustrating) simplicity an alternative to today's dominant model. (This smacks a little too much of the "Christ against culture" model.)

At any rate, I have to believe that Badiou means something more complex and nuanced, if only for the reason that he's freakin schmaht and well-read and been studying this shizznit for a while! He can't be advocating what he seems to be advocating. We've got to read between the layers. I'm not sure what all this means just yet, but his link to Lacan at the end saved his presentation by sufficiently complexifying it.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

Ethical universalism, transcendence of otherness

A little while back Gaunilo indicated plans to blog on Badiou. Since he has thus forced us into promissory history, perhaps I can help usher in the eschaton (ah naive post-mills) by my own blog on Badiou. Happily, it is not on the text that Gaunilo plans to address, but rather on a lecture given some months back which I attended.

Here's the blurb from the lecture announcement:
---
Alain Badiou, Chair of Philosophy at the Ecole Normale Superieure in Paris, will deliver a lecture entitled "Paul and the Moral Problem: Universalism and Differences."

A very important maxim of Paul is: Do not argue about opinions (Rom. 14.1). We can translate this injunction in more technical language: Do not compromise the Truth by entangling it in the web of opinions and differences. Generally speaking, for a philosophy, or for a philosopher like Socrates, it is a necessity to argue about opinions, to criticize opinions. But precisely: Paul is not a philosopher. The Christian subject is not at all in the field of philosophy. We have to understand-and it is very difficult-that faith is neither an opinion, nor a critique of opinion. The Christian subject is an activist of an Event. And Christian militantism must traverse worldly differences indifferently and avoid all casuistry over customs.

---
Badiou is tall, white-haired, with a healthy (read:round) belly--though otherwise apparently fit. He wore white pants and a white sweatshirt (and maybe white shoes too!). Hey, kinda like in this picture:

He spoke with a fantastic French accent, and was extremely jovial and energetic. He constantly interjected jokes into his address, and had the room in stitches at times. His humor was magnified by his astute use of his accent (inflecting it in just the right ways to appeal to the American ear), as well as by his repeated bouncing around and his chuckling to himself. This was someone who to me embodied joy and fulfillment, an apparently satisfied person.

Badiou indicated early on that the Pauline/Christian tradition was not one to which he subscribes in any "personal" sense. Yet, he firmly believes the Pauline ethic, as he understands it, offers a productive counterpoint to moral philosophy and the resulting modern, democratic tradition. The latter two are, in Badiou's book, bankrupt, or at least seriously flawed.

I'll try to summarize the gist of his thoughts:

Moral philosophy is about taking account of the Other, which means taking account of differences. Modern, democratic morality affirms the individual, and the existence of multiple, distinct cultures. All cultures are good and have equal rights if they respect all other cultures and respect life. Thus, tolerance and human rights are the two pillars of democratic morality. The definition of freedom that emerges is the ability to express one's own (respect of individual) creative power (respect of life). A correlate is the freedom to satisfy one's own desires (fuel for creative potential); this is the ground of happiness.

To this he responds: "If morality is the peaceful organization of differences, then there is no morality in Paul. Paul is an immoralist!"

For Paul, Badiou maintains, there are no differences. There is no concept of otherness. Sameness is the key (Gal 3:28). To grasp the truth of difference, one must go beyond difference, transcending difference, to become indifferent. What about cultural differences? They do not matter. What about the law? The law has no place--"everything is permissible."

There is only one type of relationship in Paul, that of love. This is an immediate and positive relationship. Badiou reminds us that this is distinct from Levinas, who always prioritizes the Other. (For Levinas, we are always bound to the Other, the Other catches us in her gaze, and we are obligated.) For Paul it is a reciprocal relationship of love. (We might say it is a relationship of equals, but this introduces an overdetermined category ("equality") which for us is too burdened with modern notions.)

If there is an Other in Paul, it is the neighbor. We are to love the neighbor, the immediate Other. War is possible with the neighbor, so we are to love precisely where war/contradiction is possible.

"As you love yourself." Here sameness figures in; the relationship to the Other parallels the relationship to the self. Our notion of the self is grounded in the resurrection, which is the affirmation and love of life. (Yes, he got a little fuzzy here.) This connects with his notion of Event. Christian subjectivity is grounded in this event, rather than in a set of principles (philosophy) or law (morality).

What thus emerges is the hope for a new subjectivity, which fosters a paradigm shift that looks beyond differences. It does not ignore but transcends them. "Truth is beyond opinions, not against them."

Badiou sees Paul's "faith, hope, and love" as paralleling Lacan's "real, imaginary, and symbolic". (Here he broke off into a joke (think French accent)- "Lacan...was for meeee... one of my clooosest friends. This means...of couuuurse...that 'ee was an even cloooser enemyyyy!!" Then he'd crack himself up, and we'd all crack up.)

Ok, so to try to re-hash this and make some sense: it seems to me that Badiou sees in Paul a model of a hopeful, imaginative embrace of life that is grounded in our fundamental common humanity--(recall that, for Badiou, who is not a "believer", the resurrection must be taken as figurative). It must lead to the construction of a model of community that is not fixated on differences. It cannot ignore them (eg, I think of the b.s. of the so-called "colorblind society" of Sowell or Steele or DeSouza), but must somehow acknowledge them and instantaneously move on to something new. This new model is, of course, to be determined. Badiou cited Lacan's statement that "fiction is a house for truth" to emphasize the imaginative, constructive character of this project.

We are to have faith in what is true (The Real), our common humanity. We enact this commonality through love, which embodies the structure of how things are, even if not apparent (The Symbolic). In so doing we function in hope, always creatively stretching forward toward new (The Imaginary) postures of relationship based on this truth.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Cool Kids' Table

Can somebody please tell me what the heck the European Graduate School is and why it is they have the dopest freakin' faculty line up?

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

How many f'n things can you do with polenta?



Way back when, under some inspiration, MarianEvans bought a box of polenta to make. It sat on the shelf for weeks (maybe months). Finally, I said we had to make it; it might go bad, right? So she boiled it up and that night we had the "cream of wheat" style polenta, a soft, warm mash that tastes like whatever you dress it with. It quickly hardened in the pot and ME put the block in the fridge. There it sat for another week. What to do? It was rather imposing, a little odd looking. Here was this big orange-yellow block, just sitting there. Ok, something needed to be done, lest it rot and we waste most of it.
Mission one: I cut off a hunk of it and chopped it up into 1 1/2 inch pieces, trying to minimize a geometric appearance (when hardened polenta is cut, it cuts nice and smooth). I fried these up with sliced onions, cumin, salt n peppa. Not bad, served with a side of beans.
Still hadn't made a dent in the block which lurked in the fridge. Another week goes by.
Mission two: I used my new mandolin to slice off thin pieces, about 2 inches long and roughly square. These I placed on a baking sheet, sprayed with oil, dusted with cumin, salt n peppa (sensing theme here?) and placed under the broiler. Out came semi-crisp, sort-of-like-tortilla-chips bits of polenta. Not bad as a snack with some salsa.
Yet, still, there the hunk sat, about a third of its original splendor persisting.
Mission three: Fed up, I decided to do away with it all. I grated the rest finely. I grated onion and pressed some garlic. I mixed all this together, added some cumin, salt n peppa (hey hey!), some chopped cilantro, a bit of flour and an egg, in order to make it doughy/pasty. I formed 2 inch patties and fried em. Turned out to be like polenta-falafel. Not bad, really. Went well with a side of beans n rice.

Polenta, I know I've barely scratched the surface of your versatility, but think we've had enough for some time to come.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Raucous Recess Ruckus

I was standing outside the woodchips bin, looking away toward the monkey bars and waiting a turn, when WHAM!--a slap on the shoulder, children's voices laughing, the patter of feet running off. Stunned, I turned around to survey the situation. I saw that naughty Gaunilo was the closest of the scattering group, and as he looked back smiling I realized that I had been drawn into a game of tag. Wanting to be a good sport, I stumbled awkwardly into the mulch zone, wondering who to pursue.

1. Number of books owned? I believe MarianEvans is working on that one. I'll let her do the calculations.

2. Last book I bought? Critical Theory: Selected Essays, by Max Horkheimer. Class requirement provided the excuse to get this. Do class texts count for this tag game?Well, I did want to own it eventually. Along with Dialectic of Enlightenment (co-authored with Theodor Adorno), this collection provides a great introduction to what has become one of the most influential schools of thought in contemporary criticism. Provides critical assessment of bourgeois economy and its exaltation of Reason. Also great critiques of positivism, mass culture and the hegemony of science. Though Horkheimer (and others in the Frankfurt school) exhibited a certain romanticism and elitism (eg exalting high culture over mass culture--strange for Marxist influenced theory!), these writings are still critical for gaining a vision for how cultural studies/criticism took the direction it did. For those into lit crit, this stuff influenced Eagleton, Belsey, Steiner, R. Williams, etc. For the theologians among you, this all trickled down into liberationist thought and other political theologies.

3. Last book I read. Justine by Marquis De Sade. Ahem. No, I was not looking for S&M inspiration. In part, it was preparation for reading Lawrence Durrell's quartet - I figured I should have some background. Also, I'd never read anything by the grand Marquis. It was providentially tossed into my lap by MarianEvans, after she scored it at a used book sale. Fascinating little book. He provides a number of theories undermining virtue- evolutionary, economic, naturalist, etc, all in this fast-moving tale of the misadventures of a pretentious young girl.

4. Five that mean a lot to me (I'm not reading this as top five, to ease the burden):
a. Moltmann's The Crucified God. Absolutely foundational. The suffering God. God's solidarity with the outcast and victim. The Son's experience of separation from the Father. Death in God.
b. Fragments, by Binjamin Wilkomirski. All Holocaust narratives are disturbing. This one, told through the eyes of a child, is absolutely. I only read it once, about ten years ago, but it sticks with me and haunts me.
c. Ron Sider's Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger. All heckling of evangelical pop books aside, I can't ignore the role this book played early on in my development to set me on the course I've taken. Decent biblical exegesis, some theological reflection, ok social analysis. Not scholarly, not elegantly written, but life-changing nonetheless.
d. Brother Lawrence's The Practice of the Presence of God. Helped me to hang on to something.
e. Watership Down, by Richard Adams. Leadership, vision, solidarity, community-not to mention good social criticism--all done through BUNNIES!! Who can resist Hazel, Fiver, and Bigwig? The fact that Hauerwas has written about it (a piece I have yet to read) doesn't diminish it in my mind.

After a flurry of sprints and near tags, I realize there is no one left. Cyberspace, I tag you...

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Random Props

Just want to give a shout out to my man Paulo Freire. Nothing prompted this other than some nostalgic reflections. Freire's pedagogical theories are nothing short of the bomb. He critiques what he terms the "banking method" of education--the notion that the instructor has the sole perspective on the subject matter, and must transmit (deposit) it en toto while the students must passively receive. In constrast, Freire sets forth the "problem posing" method that begins where the students are, w/ the instructor as co-learner, and together they push back the bounds of knowledge through critical questioning of everything. Rather than passive acceptance, active use of and engagement with tradition takes place as they seek to elucidate the current state of affairs. Freire was actively involved in literacy work and community organizing in Brasil and elsewhere. His theories are strongly influenced by Marxian critique.
His method should certainly give pause to Christian educators--in what sense are we to hang onto some non-reducible deposit to be passed on in pristine form? In what sense can theological education be transformation and not just transmission? Is the gospel a set of propositions (or at least beliefs) to be safeguarded and transmitted (Paul seems to say this to Timothy, no?) or can it be alternatively conceived so as to maximize the subversive and revolutionary potential of the kerygma?


Sunday, June 12, 2005

Further thoughts on Ricoeur

Being ever-slothful, I cannot bring myself to develop fully what can be simply listed as bullet points. Nevermind the lack of clarity and greater possibility of being misunderstood, etc. I just want to jot down some themes/ideas of Ricoeur's that I have found valuable...
  • interpretive arc; esp. appropriation of texts as integral to our mode of being
  • redescriptive power of poetry and narrative; its subversive potential
  • the word that comes to us from without
  • mediation of Habermas and Gadamer; contextualized understanding and ideology critique
  • self as externalized in text and action
  • self-awareness thru interpretation of such externalized objects vs unmediated self-consciousness
  • surplus of meaning; metaphor as contributing new cognitive content
  • ethics as teleological yet somehow still ad hoc and non-systemic
  • ...

Saturday, May 28, 2005

UNSHACKLED!!!

It's done, it's freakin' done. My ride on the Windy City Express has come to an end...for now at least. I just sent off (2:15 AM) my last paper to my profs. This one was on Mannheim's sociology of knowledge. I'm in schock...it's all open now...life stands before me...vacuous, exciting, scary...for the coming year at least.

AAAAHHHHHHH

Thursday, May 26, 2005

In Memoriam

I learned today (a few days late, I'm sad to say) that Paul Ricoeur has passed away. I'm not prepared at this moment to go into why this matters to me--I just wanted to get this out there asap. Suffice it to say this is a big loss. He was one of our contemporary giants.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Cheeze Tayles for Hap, Vol 1a

In my travels in search of cheese, I came across many a strange tale among the peoples I encountered. In this volume I will relate the stories and legends that I learned, that seem to have no direct bearing on cheese or my quest at all. Allow them to provide background, to help you get a sense of the places through which I sojourned and the lore of the natives. Perhaps there is wisdom to be garnered; perhaps merely ethnographic detail; but the telling must be re-told, and the narratives extended into our worlds. Was it Wiesel who said that God created humans because s/he loves stories? Well, let the legends continue as we attempt to image this creator...

I first set out, dear reader, in a northeasterly direction from base camp (near the stock yards, where my cupboards longed for cheese). For many weeks I trekked alongside a tremendous body of fresh water, and through partially settled forests. It was there where I was chased by a strange people, all white with shorn hair, wearing "bomber" jackets and combat boots. They brandished automatic rifles and kept shouting about the "race war" or something of the sort. At any rate, I wanted no intercourse nor commerce with such a tribe, as they were clearly not amenable to inter-tribal interactions. I pressed on, across prairies and wetlands passing nary a soul along the way. Eventually I arrived at an amazing metropolis, which the locals had christened Detroit.

It was here that I heard this tale:
I learned of a child who had been raised in a vacuum cleaner factory. From birth the child was rarely taken outside the factory walls; its mother--for reasons unclear to me--was obliged to remain close to the shop floor at all times. Here the child was showered incessantly with the pleasant hum and constant howl of vacuum cleaners. Around the clock the new models were being tested. As each one cleared the assembly line it was put through the same regimen. Day in and day out the vacuums hummed.

As a result, the baby never learned to cry. As the old wives tale goes, the best way to hush a crying child is to run the vacuum. Well, it held true in this case, and with the continuous rumor of cyclonic machines, this young mother was quite blessed. Never did the child cry, being soothed and distracted by the hum of the machines. The child grew to young adulthood in this way. Never a tear shed.

This story was relayed to me to explain the activities of a powerful group whom I encountered during my stay. The Cult of the Tearless Wonder had arisen around this child, as it grew, as legend spread of the one freed from the sufferings of this world. Comparisons were made to Siddhartha or the Christ child. Here was one uniquely blessed, unaware of pain and sorrow, consistently at peace! The Cult arose at first as a group of awestruck observers, then rules and traditions were created--you know, dear reader, how these sorts of things go. Soon the sick and lame were brought to be healed by the Tearless One, and miracles were reported. Legend grew.

When I arrived, certain quarters of the city had banned any displays of pain or discomfort, with elaborate systems of fines and punishments should one slip up. Darker stories circulated as well, of the fearsome underside of the group, of the Band of Perpetual Weepers, kept in chains, tortured, forced to cry continually to preserve the balance. Strange stories of the sacrifice of crying infants abounded as well. Mothers scared their children into hushed silence if they threatened a cry with warnings of being taken by the group for its ceremonies.

Needless to say, I was quite unnerved. After a few days rest, I secured my provisions and continued on. There was no cheese here, nor, I should dare say, if there were would I want to partake of it.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

echoes of PoMo madness, extravaganza a mi piacci

Ever condemned to my voyeuristic, web-jouissance, I got all juiced up at JPE/Brad's dirty pillow-talk with a certain Jim (I don't have trackbacks, so I don't think I can PING!! them). I couldn't resist my own musings on his very apposite and s-s-stimulating questions. I'll take the third:

<<
3. Which ideological state apparatus most clearly reifies Weber's thesis of the protestant work ethic?>>

I love it! Love it! Jim's response that all ISAs are implicated is astute (esp for a neophyte), and to some extent I must agree. But in the interest of narrowing this down to some (false) clarity and (violent) fixity, which one will I choose? I suppose I'll go with trade unions. Such orgs and their discourses help foster the economic mindset outlined so well by Weber. To be sure it starts with the family and the church (Family ISA or Cultural ISA), but such unions crystallize in their policies and traditions the dynamics that ultimately contribute to the 'iron cage'. Such unions act as "disciplinary" sites, forging the next gen of proletarians without the critical consciousness. Workers are smoothly conditioned into the supportive role of the dominant economic order. This is why Lenin had such trouble with such pseudo-socialist movements in his efforts to get the vanguard going. Though supposedly there to protect the workers, they really reinforced captialism by solidifying the binarism between worker and industrialist. Trade unions can only exist with the present system; in a sense both feed off of each other, mutually affirming the other in the Manichean dance--though the power difference must be remembered: the system can continually ingest more fodder while the unions keep raising workers up for feed, the system wins every time (pace Hardt and Negri). Such unions are the secular version of the Calvinist sect.

But I've realized why the question has been so difficult. I think it is because it is misleading. I think, rather, that aspects of the Repressive State Apparatus better convey Weber's thesis, and, when brought into conversation with ques 2 re: biopower, make for frutiful consideration. The fear of judgment and hell, the frantic need for justification, Calvin's execution of Servetus, the gestapo of Geneva--violence, no? Might not the overt and covert forms of violence, the subtle and not so subtle methods of shaping our desires to be those that feed the beast, carry on the torch of "Reformed Businessmen"? RSA contributes in this way to a type of "total institution" (in Agamben's not Goffman's sense) that keeps the hope of heaven alive in the bank acct and tv screen. We are beaten, cajoled, massaged and molded into the "ideal type" that supports the status quo. But it is so overt and physicalist that it seems more the RSA rather than the ISA, though both to be sure are operative. (This leaves unaddressed the very real issue that, at present, the protestant ethos no longer appears necessary or central to the current arrangement of the system. No longer is the ascetism of working and saving exalted, but rather the profligacy of the consumer, flying in the face of the traditional Reformed notions that Weber observed.)

But Althusser's state-centered analysis and Foucault's efforts to cut off the king's head mean that this whole synthesis is flawed. The center cannot hold. But that's ok (since there is no center). Further inspired by the nature of the JPE-Jim exchange, I think I want to muse next on why PoMo is great and so nice for Xianity--though that will hardly be original.


Wednesday, May 18, 2005

idiomatic (non)transference

Rejecting, of course, the myth of formal equivalence in favor of some notion of dynamic equivalence in terms of translation, I must share two humorous expressions from Turkey of which I've been recently apprised. Can you guess what they mean?

1) Should you be tempted to be satisfied with appearances, or prone to take things at face value, let me remind you that "not every bearded man is your father."

2) I'm sorry, I can see that I've just offended you, though that was not my intention. Here I am trying to back track out of it, but it's only making things worse. I should just stop while I'm ahead, and own up to the fact that I seem to be "stepping sideways on my penis"

----
M'kay y'all, the phrase in quotes is the Turkish expression, the rest is just context I made up to give you a clue. Lemme see your best guesses. They do translate (again, roughly) into expressions in English. Prize for the winner.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

intermezzo

going off air for a while. g'day....

Saturday, April 23, 2005

"Claret is the liquor for boys; port for men;
but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy."
- Samuel Johnson

Thursday, April 21, 2005

3 wierds

all three hour seminars, once a week.

class one: taught by one of today's leading contemporary theologians. we come to class having read the piece and sit around and discuss. mostly the prof talking stream of consciousness. pauses to laugh at own jokes but class doesn't ever get them so prof only one laughing. prof usually talks in a tone that says - Im so increadibly bored with this material and with you, kill me now. which is how most of us feel. sidelong glances, eyes rolling, smirks. a friend tells me i should interrupt prof to ask prof what s/he thinks about Prince (yes, as in the artist formerly know as...). This is in reference to a class last quarter w/ another prof where we in fact did spend half the class talking about the prof's love of Prince and last Prince concert. other students chimed in concerning their own favorites. This will not happen this quarter in this class. all too intimidated to take the discussion in said direction, though all terribly bored. except for that one kid who is always asking insightful questions.

class two: team taught. one flamboyant, engaged, effusive, other grumpy and brooding. most of seminar is them going back and forth, disagreeing cordially with the other. one will give a lecturette to the class, and the other, as the last word is out, will say, But lets consider it this way... and try to undo what the other has just said. quite entertaining, though at some point rest of class feels somewhat neglected. some start to whisper to each other about other matters.

class three: prof talks like that guy from Scarface, Heeeyyyy Bossss. doesnt really open the mouth fully, sort of slurs the words. interesting when we are discussing metaphysics and it is presented as if it is really secretive. one thinks that, if they dont agree with the perspective then tonight they're gonna swim wit da fishes. as in most philos classes, many odd ones. one talks incesantly, disagreeing with the prof and citing the german text as proof. but he is so earnest and genuine, not mean spirited. really loves the material so the prof resists bitch-slapping him. not sure if his classmates will be so forgiving.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

liberal pope? neoliberal, that is.

Well, if Sirico and the Acton Institute are endorsing this Pope and really excited about him, I know that is bad news.
http://www.acton.org/ppolicy/comment/article.php?id=263

Habemus Papam

Wow. Just watched live the revelation of the next pope. Caridinal Ratzinger is now Pope Benedict XVI.
Amazing to watch this significant transition. Looks like, for better or for worse, the conservative line of the church continues.

Marlowe's Aria

We love Renee Fleming in the mornings. There is something so soothing about letting her melodious voice float through the morning air as you sit and sip your coffee. I often imagine (and wish) I am somewhere near the Mediterranean, in a house on the cliffs, the breeze flowing through gauze curtains as the waves lap somewhere below, while the diva's voice caresses the soul.
Marlowe has taken to this as well. He loves to sing in the morning, as he sits by the window, gazing out at the sunshine and birds. Often we'll wake up to his soft, gentle crooning. It is ever so subtle, just a light note here or there, a slight tremolo. He sticks in the same range, perhaps hesitant to try new things for fear that his voice might crack. He's no Renee, but waking up to his fluttery notes has a peacefulness to it, it's a reminder that everything's gonna be ok.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Waiting for Hegemon

Wasn't it Peter and Valentine Wiggin who skillfully manipulated the world through the efficient use of blogs? Their assumed personalities and web based alter egos effectively swayed public opinion and cajolled politicians and pundits alike. Simply through such conversations, commanding a global audience, they worked their way into power. It was an effective political poesis. When will they show up? Where are they now? How much longer until Hegemon is revealed?

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Friday, dark but good

"The death of Jesus on the cross is the center of all Christian theology. It is not the only theme of theology, but it is in effect the entry to its problems and answers on earth. All Christian statements about God, about creation, about sin and death have their focal point in the crucified Christ. All Christian statements about history, about the church, about faith and sanctification, about the future and about hope stem from the crucified Christ...

"When the crucified Jesus is called the 'image of the invisible God,' the meaning is that this is God, and God is like this. God is not greater than he is in this humiliation. God is not more glorious than he is in this self-surrender. God is not more powerful than he is in this helplessness. God is not more divine than he is in this humanity...

"In the cross, the Father and Son are most deeply separated in forsakenness and at the same time are most inwardly one in their surrender. What proceeds from this event between Father and Son is the Spirit which justifies the godless, fills the forsaken with love and even brings the dead alive, since even the fact that they are dead cannot exclude them from this event of the cross; the death in God also includes them."

- Jurgen Moltmann, Der gekreuzigte Gott

Friday, March 25, 2005

Hyperreal Voyeurism: The Joy of Blogging

I'm sure everyone who begins a blog has to work through the implications of this genre, and what it signifies about those who participate in it. Perhaps it's a sense of guilt, of being ill at ease with some of the underlying issues involved. I know it is in my case, at least. It's probably wise not to begin such ventures unreflectively, especially given the proliferation of literature on new communications/media technologies, and their implications for new forms of subjectivity and consciousness. If we are going to be transformed (and possibly wacked out!), let's at least have some sense of what's coming and why.

Why blog?
To keep in touch with friends? Well, you could just send out mass emails, or heck, call or write. Is it so central to maintain a hub where you present information (usually inane- come on, let's be honest) and expect people to come to it to check up?

As a journal? In part, sure, but why in this way? Why not keep your own journal, your own running file? Why publish it?

It's fun? Yes, kids, it is. But why is it fun? Why do we like to do it?

I'm suspecting that part of it has to do with the dialectic between exhibitionism and voyeurism. Ok, you say, what they hell?! I'm not trying to get too nuts here, or get too psychoanalytic. But there is some appeal about posting your thoughts, exposing yourself, in public, for all to see. This is in part the appeal of a webpage. But blogging adds more of a personal element, and a sense of historicization, as the information changes, and is added to regularly. We want to be recognized, we want to be noticed. We want others to read our thoughts and be impacted in some way by them.
But there is more. We don't just publish a blog for a select group of people we know. We leave it open to "the stranger". We allow the off chance that someone unbeknownst to us might stumble onto our blog and get drawn in. That raw exhibitionism kicks in.

On the flip side, voyeuristically, we (as readers) find these sites fascinating. We want to know what the blogger has written. We want to peep into their journal, their often unfiltered rants (who moi?) and exposed feelings. We like to catch a glimpse of their cyberside.

I know there's more to it, but I just wanted to suggest this aspect. Perhaps, like the Freudians and the Lacanians after them, I'm just projecting my own issues. But hey, perhaps you resonate. After all, why are YOU reading this?