“revelation without revolution”
… it is obvious that Generation X cannot be understood or theorized using conventional approaches from youth culture or subcultural theory. Like Silent Bob, we cannot expect Xer popular culture to reveal or reflect the values of a generation. Instead, he simply stands there, bemused but not terribly interested. Films[,] and popular culture generally, do not provide us with an easy ‘representation’ of post-boomer generations. Instead, these texts are actively negating a coherently performed self, hailing an audience with references to other films, other fictions and other views of the world. Popular culture is inadequate, but provides an iconographic database that builds a banal, superficial, but satisfying literacy. This is a method of reading and understanding inequality that rarely unsettles social structures. It creates revelation without revolution.(p. 22)
Brabazon, Tara. From Revolution to Revelation: Generation X, Popular Memory and Cultural Studies. Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005.
notes from the interblags: post RSA edition
Yesterday concluded the RSA Summer Institute, held here at Penn State. Participants from around the country came to discuss rhetoric in either a week-long seminar or a weekend workshop (or for some, both). I was in the Queering Rhetorical Studies workshop, which was a fantastic experience. I walked away with new connections, friends, and colleagues, a long list of things to read, questions and new insights about rhetoric, queer studies, and academic work, and a renewed excitement about rhetorical studies. After a month and a half off away from rhetoric courses, and a month and a half working on revising papers for another course, I both felt disconnected from rhetoric and exhausted by it (I know, paradoxical). But now: excitement!
Starting Wednesday, I am teaching FYC as part of Penn State’s Learning Edge Academic Program, or LEAP. The program brings in first-year students early, and as a cohort, they take two courses that will spring-board them into college, generally gen-ed courses. My English 015 course is paired up with a Communications Arts and Sciences course, and I’m excited about this. My fellow teacher is awesome, and also a friend of mine, so it should be a fun time working together, teaching rhetoric, writing, and public speaking, and engaging with students.
So, I’ve got to finish a few things for the course, but first, I want to catch up on all that stuff I missed by being in a workshop and meeting so many awesome people over the weekend. Here’s a few interesting tidbits from the Internet.
• According to Daily Kos, a gay bar in Forth Worth was raided Saturday night (Sunday morning), on the anniversary of the Stonewall Riots in NYC. It seems the story is unfolding. (h/t slewfoot at the Blogora.) Towleroad has more.
• Joseph Orosco shares his thoughts on Twitter, Iran, and revolutionary possibilities.
• CNN, in an article whose title is worthy of the Onion: yep, there is.
• XKCD today is awesome: “More harm has been done by people panicked over societal decline than societal decline ever did”
• Sweet! University of Kansas is going open-access for all journal articles written by their faculty.
more auto-tuning the news: smoking lettuce
I’ve post autotune the news before, but I love it so much, here’s another episode. My favorite part is the questioning of American Exceptionalism toward the beginning (exceptional fast food!):
h/t Oregon Robot for this video.
“the more we write and the great variety of genres…”
As usual, Alex Reid delivers with a smart response to this Chronicle article. Reid:
Why ask whether writing on the Internet makes you a better academic writer? Why not ask whether academic writing makes you a better user of social media? I suppose it is understandable that academics might want to value a particular kind of academic writing, but in the end that valuation is a demonstration of thinking that is no less sloppy than the poor thinking habits of which they accuse students.
I wonder where one might find the longitudinal studies and extensive research that demonstrates that academic writing (if such a thing actually exists and can be quantitatively defined) is the best possible genre for developing “critical thinking” or producing and disseminating disciplinary knowledge. Of course such studies and research do no exist. The value of academic writing is purely tautological. Academic writing is the best academic writing because academic writing is what academic writing is.
[. . .]
The best I think we can say is what should be fairly obvious. The more we write and the greater variety of genres in which we write, the better prepared we will be to write in a variety of genres in the future.
But you should read the rest.
Iran: A Nation of Bloggers
from too many sources to h/t:
IRAN: A Nation Of Bloggers from ayrakus on Vimeo.
the trouble with [the acceptance] of normal
Cord Jefferson at The Root (h/t Queerty):
The annual marches ultimately accomplish two things: They entertain those of us—gay and straight—who already wholeheartedly support the cause of equal rights for the LGBT community, and they feed into the rotten stereotypes of bigots, the same people who fear gay Boy Scout leaders and consider same-sex marriage “deviant.” The LGBT community has every right to claim its place in the civil rights struggle. But in such a politically important year for the gay community, perhaps it’s time for its members to start taking some cues from the civil rights movement of old.
[. . .]
I wish I could say that no bigots are going to use pictures of a few men in thongs in San Francisco to write off millions of gay, lesbian and transgender people, but I can’t. There’s a lot at stake right now. The community is on the verge, perhaps, of a tipping point for rights and acceptance. Maybe, just once, the LGBT community should try abandoning the scant costumes and embellished sexuality and “do two.” They could march down the center of America’s great cities in all the clothes they regularly wear, exposing themselves for what they truly are: normal human beings. It wouldn’t be as fun as past parades, and it’s not fair. But for now, that’s life.
compare to Barney Frank (in a different context):
I am not seeking your approval. Your approval of the way in which I live is not terribly important to me. [. . .] This is not a request for acceptance. We don’t want it and we don’t need it…
By quoting Frank, I’m not saying he is some flaming ‘mo out celebrating Pride in a thong (and I have no idea where he stands on carnivalesque pride events). But his point, while defending the need for hate-crime legislation, is poignant here—and really, a central question of rhetoric. How much do you want to change yourself (or, more accurately, your ethos) in order to change the beliefs or actions of others? And how much do you want to change your ethos for incidental or secondary audiences? One of Jim Porter’s points in Audience and Rhetoric, to simplify it a bit, is that a rhetor in a way becomes her audience—not completely, but identifies with the discourse style of her audience (or, more accurately, discourse community). What is at stake… and what is lost… in this identification?
“we’re wrong, and Glenn Beck proves it”
Eric at The Philosophist blogged about Glenn Bleck and his ilk, and makes an important pedagogical point at the end. I don’t normally quote an entire blog post, but Eric’s is short and makes a good point:
The one essential point that Beck, O’Reilly et al absolutely must understand and yet insist on dismissing is that their speech is influential within the discourse. Surprising and perplexing as it is to some of us, a lot of people listen and respond to the things they have to say. When Beck says that “the pot is brewing,” for instance, the pot brews among those who hear of its brewing, simply because Beck says it’s brewing. Beck is someone they respect, he legitimizes a form of - necessarily vague - angst and anger, and they come to understand that the recent violence is some sort of logical backlash to a series of - necessarily vague - oversteps by the left-leaning government. These people are crazy, Beck says, but I coulda told you they’d start shooting. He refuses to believe that his words are part of the impetus for that violence. In this case, as in every case, the messenger is a creator.
These guys operate on a very simple formula: 1) Tell the right-fringe they are victims, they should be angry, and they should do something about it. 2) Immediately distance yourself from whatever they do.
When we teach writing and speech, we insist on specificity to detail. You will not be successful, we tell them, unless you make specific arguments supported by specific, credible evidence. But we’re wrong, and Glenn Beck proves it.
When I was at the Watson Conference last fall, I was on a panel where I discussed slurs online and another panelist discussed CNN’s framing of (if I remember right) violence in New Orleans post-Katrina. Someone asked us about pedagogical implications, and our moderation made an excellent point: perhaps composition is too tied to rational-critical discourse and needs to help students make new media compositions that make moves similar to CNN: draw on emotion, frame debates, collage well, etc.
a rose by certain (gendered) names would smell differently
NPR has an interesting report about gendered language. Lera Boroditsky, an assistant psychology professor at Stanford University, studied how people understand things differently based on how words are gendered. The main example is a bridge, which was described differently by Spanish speakers, for whom bridge is a masculine noun, from German speakers, for whom the word is feminine.
“Does treating chairs as masculine and beds as feminine in the grammar make Russian speakers think of chairs as being more like men and beds as more like women in some way?” she asks in a recent essay. “It turns out that it does. In one study, we asked German and Spanish speakers to describe objects having opposite gender assignment in those two languages. The descriptions they gave differed in a way predicted by grammatical gender.”
When asked to describe a “key” — a word that is masculine in German and feminine in Spanish — German speakers were more likely to use words such as “hard,” “heavy,” “jagged,” “metal,” “serrated” and “useful.” Spanish speakers were more likely to say “golden,” “intricate,” “little,” “lovely,” “shiny” and “tiny.”
…
Boroditsky suggests that the grammar we learn from our parents, whether we realize it or not, affects our sensual experience of the world. Spaniards and Germans can see the same things, wear the same cloths, eat the same foods and use the same machines. But deep down, they are having very different feelings about the world about them.
too many books
Perhaps I own too many books. I have five bookshelves overflowing with them. Tonight, I decided I don’t read enough fiction, and thought, hey, I want to re-read Lucy Corin’s Everyday Psychokillers, which I first read in a grad level creative writing class I took while teaching middle school. I couldn’t find it — and I should have been able to, because I’ve alphabetized my fiction according to author’s last name (yes, I’m that organized in some aspects of my life). My guess: I loaned it out at one point and someone didn’t return it, or it got lost in one of my moves, perhaps when I mailed books to myself when I moved to Oregon four years ago and one of the boxes was delivered but had obviously fallen apart and lost a few books. This makes me sad: Everyday Psychokillers was such a good book!
So I’m re-reading Joe Wenderoth’s Letters to Wendy’s instead, which is a weird weird book of this guy who fills out those “tell us about your visit” cards at Wendy’s. I barely read fiction anymore, except for the occasional graphic novel and Lance Olsen’s Girl Imagined by Chance, which is one of my favorite books ever. I’ve been slowly re-reading Dan Simmons’s Hyperion this summer, but I just can’t get into fantasy/science fiction like I used to.
Lesson: either get rid of lots of books (fat chance) or start to catalog my books so I know where they’re at.
on the internet, no one knows you’re not Tony La Russa
EDIT/UPDATE: After reading Collin’s comment, I decided to research further. The lawsuit was settled out of court, but part of the issue was distasteful references to players who had died of heart conditions or driving accidents. Bad taste! I’d sue if I were La Russa too, in this case — but because I’d be serious about it.
My point below wasn’t to be critical of La Russa for the lawsuit here, but to play with ideas of authenticity. Ooo, but now I feel in bad taste having written this. Thanks, Collin, for pointing this out!
ORIGINAL POST:
It’s become a cliché of the Internet: that cartoon with the dog at his computer with the caption, “On the Internet, no one knows you’re a dog.”
Recently Cardinals coach Tony La Rusa sued Twitter because someone had an account claiming to be him. This led Twitter to launch verified accounts, where celebrities and other folks can get a little badge on their Twitter account letting the world know they’re real. This doesn’t mean no one else is real, but some people are more real than other people.
I’m a bit bummed about the verified button. I mean, I don’t care if it’s the real Ashton Kutcher or not. I don’t follow him anyway. I don’t really follow any celebrities, except Margaret Cho and Amanda Palmer—they’re funny. One of the things I like about the Internet is the way that authenticity breaks down a bit. Anonymous, psuedonymous, fake. Obviously, this can cause problems. Huge problems at times. But it can also let us think a bit about how identity isn’t so fixed, that perhaps authenticity is as much a fabrication as anything else.
If I were La Russa, I’d be ecstatic that someone made a fake account under my name. “Someone’s paying attention to me!” If I were him, I’d probably sue too, but not because I’d want to win, but to get more press. I mean, really, who, outside of baseball fans, thinks about La Russa? I hadn’t thought about him in years, not since those Slim Fast commercials, I first thought. And then I realized that was a different Tony, Lasorda, actually. So possibly, I hadn’t thought of La Russa in any context ever other than, yawn! the Cardinals, yawn.1
But my guess is that La Russa is actually concerned about his reputation (”dilution, cybersquatting, and misappropriation of name and likeness” etc. etc. etc.), not upping any attention to himself. His name and likeness hasn’t been “diluted,” though. It’s been hightened, enlarged, recontextualized, given some life outside of baseball. If I were him, I’d drop the lawsuit and pay the person who was impersonating me to continue. Because I’d be La Russa, and I’d have the big bucks. The big MLB bucks.2
But my point is that what I find most fascinating (okay, as fascinating as a few other things) is the way the Internet often gets us to question authenticity. I mean, one thing I love about Chris Crocker’s Leave Brittney Alone video was how people kept asking if he was serious or not. I wasn’t concerned if he was serious about it or not, but that people were obsessing over whether he was being serious or facetious. Fascinating!
Now, I’m not advocating for the complete breakdown of truth, but rather some form of ruptures or schisms (or something to that effect) in this “cult of authenticity” that our society has built up. A fake La Russa Twitter account probably isn’t that great of a rupture. In fact, it’s probably banal and doesn’t change a darn thing.
1 No offense to Cardinals fans. If Carrie Prejean can get away with just saying “no offense”, then so can I. (also, tehe.) And I’m certain La Russa is a nice man and I don’t mean any offense to him.
2 Also interesting: “cybersquatting.” To squat means to sit, live, inhabit property that’s not “supposed” to be your own. Does this mean that identity is now “property,” like intellectual property? Tony La Russa™? Or that an identity or name on a social network site can be claimed as already our own, even if we don’t have an account? Someone should test this out. Somehow. Not sure how. “Cybersquatting.” Such a strange term.
