Disengendered: Male Domination, Media and Penis Graffiti

"I'm a boss, I'm a boss, I'm a Queen so where my muh fuckin' ... I'm a boss"   -A woman outside the University Library, October 23, 2013

I woke up this morning without a single thought to the male sex organ.  I think that should be somewhat clear that, as a man, I was not obsessing over my manhood as it were.  I went about my daily rituals before going off to school. I got breakfast at the University Center cafeteria and saw a sign next to the small inner alcove where dirty dishes are dropped on a conveyer belt to be washed out of sight.  The sign was the result of a marketing campaign to show that the cafeteria knows what the customers want; it's a shiny magnetic silver with various shaped and colored magnets where people can, presumably write suggestions and post them: at the top of this magnetic post it board reads "We Heard You".  Today, someone arranged the magnets to look like an erect penis and testicles.  

Today or yesterday, I got there about 9:00 am.

The point is someone took magnets (yellow circles for the testicles, several blue squares for the shaft and an orange triangle for the head).  I saw it immediately, I am sure most people did, or am I?  I got there two hours after they opened, maybe no one was awake enough to see it.  But everyone walks past this sign to drop off their cups and plates and cutlery ... I dunno!

So, in consideration of the fact that, most likely, everyone will see this cubist rendition of 'cock and balls', I reorganized it to look like the scattered mess it often does.  Then I thought about something I find both sad and telling; that I see graffiti 'cock and balls' all over campus.  In almost every bathroom stall, occasionally on back row desktops, etc.  So I begin to consider the meaning of the erect phallus in the mind of the younger male (assuming these are all males in their 20s and I, in my 30s).  I am drawn to two interesting thoughts, Faucault and the Mook.  

Faucault, simplified, expressed a specific type of power structure which allows for how people live; bio-power. This brings into question the way much of society has been run up until the point of Faucault's writing (her in the last part of The History of Sexuality).  The idea that things aren't just as they are and that society agrees or disagrees upon what is right or wrong, good or bad, etc. is at the heart of Faucault's work.  If you consider yourself to be somehow in the right and other people say that something you believe in is wrong then it stands to reason that these people are trying to take away your little bit of bio-power.  Camps seem to have arose surrounding one of these main disagreements in contemporary society surrounding the issue of heteronormativity. Men with little knowledge or concept of their privilege, or perhaps enough awareness to not want to let it go without a fight, have taken on such a camp.  Their war cries: "She was asking for it", "She's a slut" and other such notions of what is aptly called Rape Culture; essentially they only exist as a diatribe by decrying any female as suspect or as a target for anger, fear and hatred.  The symbol for this legion is the erect phallus, the 'cock and balls', their violent broadsword of negation of the feminine (does it go deeper than this, definitely, but this is enough to know the content of this group's collective consciousness).  To further understand this grouping of the angry male oppressor, consider their archetype; the Mook.

The Mook is best explained in the 2001 Frontline documentary, Merchants of Cool, in which they express the basic roots of the archetype (link above, skip to 22:45 for the specific definition).  A swaggerous, over-masculine daredevil, devoid of inhibitions and with a preordained preoccupation with his own proboscis pubis; the Mook is a collections of years of the worst male archetype and stands as a counterpoint to the fiercely tender masculinity that began to ebb its way into American culture in the mid-60s as a response to feminism and the realization of some male anti-war protesters of their own mysogyny (often despite furious denial to the contrary).  The Mook wasn't created by the media, but rather given a name and a purpose and made more pointed, specifically, to show what manhood was supposedly all about and to lead by example the testosterone obsessed throng.  The various other archetypal men of domination are all reinforced by the Mook's swagger and virility; they can now openly mock and attack the supposed turncoats of masculinity; homosexual men, cisgendered male feminists and feminism in general, transgendered people, anyone who denies that this is (to recall James Brown) A Man's World.  Though they cannot openly support and defend rape, they can decry the plight of men as oft coerced into sex by trickster vixens and then accused by that self-same temptress: willfully omitting the blinders of his own lack of restraint, his hormone-fueled (often also compounded by drugs and/or alcohol) total lapse of judgement and, worst of all, the humanity of the other person.

On a purely theoretical level; the image of the erect penis is, to the angry male in fear of losing dominance, a talisman, a simulacrum, an idol, a totem.  The curse this image wards off is the presumed disposition of man in a world Post-Patriarchy; the idea of man as powerless.  Powerlessness, rather than shared power, is what Patriarchy fears because that is what Patriarchy doles out to the other.  All power for us, no power for them. This fear, however, is unwarranted and simply smacks of transference.

Of course, while writing this, I was firmly aware of the connection between the subject matter and the news that a college student had been harassed by 4Chan e-vigilantes because she was mistook as someone in a video engaged in a public sex act.  This became an unfortunate reason for me to complete this blog.

People deal with a sense of powerlessness in various ways.  I don't support the idea of picking out and attacking a perceived other for any reason.  One lighthearted incident happened today after breakfast as I walked to the University Library.  A woman, I believe in her twenties was looking down at her cellphone and loudly reciting the lyrics:

"I'm a boss, I'm a boss ... I'm a Queen so where my muh fuckin' ... I'm a boss"

She looked up at me for a moment and then looked back down as she walked and continued singing.  The lyrics seemed oddly fitting as an expression of one way of coping with a certain powerlessness.  In her case, the powerlessness seems to stem from neither being a boss, nor being the originally intended recipient of the lyrics.  

Ima Boss by Meek Millz

Bitch, I'm a BOSS!
[x2]
I plan the shots
I call the cost

We in the bitch',
It's goin' downnnnnn.
Yeaa I'm the king,
Now where my mu'fuckin' crown?

[Chorus:]
Bitch I'm a BOSS!
[x6]

taken from http://www.azlyrics.com and fair use invoked. 

So Meek Millz, notably not anyone's actual boss, wishes to say he calls the shots, but to whom?  The young lady, for her part, loving the song but censoring herself, not for profanity but predominantly for the patriarchal ideology (removing the word 'bitch' and changing 'king' to 'queen', making herself 'The Boss').  Is it a coincidence that the lyrics changed in her head to fit her own need to have some power and feel as though she is 'The Boss'? I think not.  The content of lyrics are important when they are used and especially for how they are used.  In the case of the woman outside the library, I felt as though I was witnessing the recitation of a mantra.  A mantra with the magnetic power to bring with it the very strength it evokes. 

The Problem with The Purge: A Semi-filmic Critique with a Dash of Louisiana Seasoning

To start, I think a full disclosure is in order.  I went into this movie with serious issues regarding the concept and its follow-through from my first viewing of the trailer alone.  I went to see The Purge at the AMC Theatre in Metairie, LA on June 10th, 2013 at 3:45 PM.

There were about thirty people in the audience including myself, my friend Sierra, about twenty odd people in the back and two obnoxious people directly behind us who were occasionally more interesting than the movie itself.  I am still unsure if the two people were seated behind us were a couple or an elderly woman and her son; she was in her sixties it seemed and he was an older looking 40 something, but I felt I was sitting in front of Ignatius J. Riley and his mom, Irene (which seems apt since they both talked throughout the movie).

Ignatius: Sit down!

Irene: I cain't git comf'table!

Sierra, who was mortified that I had stopped procrastinating and picked a time to watch this movie, was certain it would be the single worst film of all time.  I was more positive, but then the movie trailers began erode my optimism (two paranormal horror trailers with similar plots; both starring Patrick Wilson of Watchmen fame, the sequels; Kick-Ass 2 and Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters).  Not a single trailer for a foreign made film.  No documentaries.  Nothing with Philip Seymour Hoffman whatsoever!  I was in over my head.

Ignatius: Hrumphf!

Irene: When's deh moveh staught?

The movie starts; that's when the trouble begins.  Set in 2022 (not 2026 as was reported by at least one reviewer who may not have watched the movie) the night the movie takes place marks the eleventh annual purge; which means the first one would have taken place in 2012 (maybe they can fix that when it goes to DVD).  The movie's radio announcer intro and video footage montage give a quick overview of what is happening throughout the country during the Purge along with a dose of the deliberately contrived and anything-but-subtle social commentary which occurs repeatedly throughout the movie.  It was as if it were written so preschool age children would understand that the Purge was 'bad' for people, but that people like James Sandin (Ethan Hawke) 'couldn't see it at the time'.  Sandin is a proud supporter of the annual Purge but is having trouble convincing his children of the importance of this 'necessary evil'.  Enough about James, because if he is supposed to be the protagonist he is one of the most tepid in film history.

Somehow, James and his family almost lose track of time having a sensible no-carb dinner: the 'calm before the storm' plot device awkwardly wedged in between moments of domestic tension and ... moments of domestic tension.

THE PURGE BEGINS!!!!

...well, it seemed more like a flash flood warning.

Irene: Dey watch it on da tee-vee?

No, they all pretend it isn't happening.  All the drama, all the violence and we are watching a rich family do the same boring shit they probably did every other day of the year.  Except...

A nameless bloody stranger (and that's how he's credited too; played by Edwin Hodge) walks into the neighborhood, pleading for aid.  James' young son, Charlie (Max Burkholder) heeds the call for some reason (because he really didn't seem to care too much beforehand) and suddenly the plot races into high gear!!!

Not really.

Suddenly, a group of masked, upper-middle class caucasians (but, hey, that's just casting) descend on the Sandins like a bored swarm of overgrown trick-or-treaters.  They are so unassuming that James looks out of a security window and barely seems to care (hmm, The Hellfire Club paying me a visit, ho hum).  The leader of the Manson-family-esque group shows up masked.  He then removes his mask to reveal the same damned face that was the damned mask!

Was I not supposed to laugh?

Irene: Why's he laughin'?

Ignatius: The nerve!

So, this guy just wants to kill a homeless guy.  No big deal.  He came to pick up his homeless guy, which he knows is in the house (thankfully, or else this movie would have been very different ...somehow).  He wants this 'homeless swine' (he said that about five times) and he wants him alive so he can kill him outside along with his friends or else his friends will come inside and kill everyone inside.

Irene: Awe, he's homeless.

To a guy like James Sandin, with no character and no moral compass and no personality except a love for his family and a love for his own self-preservation, this should be a no brainer.  He goes to work trying to find the bloody, apparently homeless, stranger (who, just because I was told not to mention race, I will point out is the only black male character) who is somewhere in his house.  He finds his homeless, bloody African-American quarry...

Irene: Is dem dawgtags he's got?

...his homeless, bloodied, war veteran quarry 'who just happens to be African-American' holding a gun to his daughter's head.  Somehow, James is able to capture his ever increasing adjectival prey and binds him for export out of the house to the patiently awaiting horde (led by a guy who vaguely resembles Matt Smith but lacks the British accent and has a crome shotgun instead of a sonic screwdriver).

Ignatius: Preposterous!

And he gives the homeless dude to the bad guys, the end.

JK

LMAO

James, facing the scorn and hatred of his entire family, decides to fight.

James decides to fight back because he realizes that he was helping to perpetuate a malignant social system.

James makes the bold decision to protect a total stranger and put his family and himself in danger because he has an epiphanal moment of clarity in which he knows it better to fight for the rights of the few than to coalesce to the will of the many, if the many be of ill will!

The truth is, no one will ever know why exactly James decides to fight back, probably just that the movie was only half over and hardly anybody had been killed.

Whatever the reason, James decides to reject everything he stands for and protect a stranger at the risk of his and his family's wellbeing.  The result, a bloody onslaught at the hands of the band of heavily armed masked rich kids (the leader is wearing a blazer with what looks to be a boarding school crest on the breast).

For once, the loudest people weren't Ignatius and his momma, but the crowd in the back; clapping and cheering as a wave of violence washed over the rest of the movie.  I was reminded, at the cheers and laughter, that not everyone considered this a horror movie in the strictest sense and that some viewers may have simply wished to see violence; a violent release, much like what The Purge was meant to be for the future America being portrayed onscreen (at least in one neighborhood).

I went into the theatre with several preconceived notions about The Purge.  I anticipated that the movie would be an awkward horror/torture film which tries to artificially imbue it with a socially conscious message. I anticipated that there would be an awkward racial element.  I anticipated laughing quite a lot during the movie.  I was mostly right.

I do have to admit.  I did not anticipate the use of 'Patriotism as a motivation/justification for violence' motif which seemed to be overlook in many of the very scathing reviews I read of others online.  The attempts to show the media as protector of the status quo while it poses as honest journalism.  Little things like that were nice but still did not fix a clunky script, not for me at least.

There is one major plot element I left for the very end, one that seems to be the most real when looked at outside of the context of this movie, the notion that humans are essentially violent and hateful beasts in need of regular acts of malice.  If one were to ask around their friends and acquaintanceship, one might find a number of people who believe this to be true.  The idea that humans are inherently violent is engrained American foreign policy and is the cornerstone of the common popular misunderstanding of Darwinism which does not actually claim 'survival of the fittest' but rather simply purports  adaptation as the reason for change over time.  This concept, however well accepted as fact, is really a construct and a self-fulfilling one at that.  This belief that humans are naturally violent leads to murder and execution, to war and genocide.  It's either US or THEM!  This is the concept that The Purge takes on head first.  The movie puts forth the statement that, even in situations of extreme danger and impending death, people can choose non-violence.  No matter how clunky this movie may be, it does have that whole thing going for it.

Irene: Ignatius, what town dat movie set in?

Ignatius: No doubt some vile den of iniquity like New York or Los Angeles.

Irene: I bet if dey did dat puh-idge down here, it look mitey diff'rent.  People always be livin' like dat down here.

Ignatius: It was an abysmal display!  A rancorous of a film if you can call them films at all!  I will not speak of it again, Mother!

Irene:  Oh, dat Eatin' Hawke, doh!  He is something else!

Ignatius: Mother!  Please!

We Are All One. Be Happy As You Are. Now Get Back To Work.

I saw the best minds of my generation ... spend thousands of hours reading new age / self-help books.

Okay, so maybe that is how they got to be the best minds of my generation but who can say for sure.  I must have assumed that these books had a positive affect on them because I have since bought and read several of the same books, skimmed over their libraries, listened to the audiobooks of several major authors on the subjects of self-actualization, motivation, new age wellness, perception, zen and neurolinguistic programming.  Not all of these books truly clicked for me but eventually I came to the following conclusions:


1. We are One; interconnected and interwoven in the dance of life, an expression of the Universal Consciousness.

2. Life is to be Enjoyed; rejoice in what IS and accept the harshness that sometimes occurs despite the natural inclination to wish for a lack of pain; it, too, is a part of this cosmic dance.

3. Most of these authors are greedy as hell!


Oh, no, he didn't?  Oh, yes, I did!

If there is one thing the world needs more than ever, and I think there is, it is for every living human to be given free and easy access to points number 1 and 2 above.  In no uncertain terms, these concepts should be given out freely like flouride in public schools and tap water.

Sorry, back on topic.  What a better world we could have if more people were at least aware of these concepts.  I'm not sure who said it best; George Carlin or Bill Hicks; but, apparently, they were both enlightened and both feel as though the freedom from many of the myriad societal ills is, in fact, the realization that we (all life) are one (one consciousness).  Is every stand-up comic really an enlightened zen master?

So what if?  What if the authors of these books of enlightenment, new age philosophy, self-help, self-actualization and wellness finally said "You know what, fuck the money, I'll just give the message out for free" and then actually did it?

How would the murder rate look?

How about the number of starving people on the planet?

What good could come of it?

A metric fuckton.

But I can find no record of any such author ever taking the leap and printing their work and distributing gratis to the poor.  Samuel Smiles, who wrote the book 'Self-Help' and self-published in 1859, spoke on behalf of the poor and rallied for their representation as an author and in his capacity as a politician.  Yet, no known pamphlet form of Smiles' self-help texts were ever found.  Okay, so publishing wasn't as easy in the era of Samuel Smiles, but what about our contemporary authors?  Don't they have access to printers?

Okay, so they have websites.  Do all the poor people in the world have the internet?  Don't you have to search for these things?  Wouldn't you have to be looking for Eckhart Tolle to find Eckhart Tolle (or does he show up when you google 'How to make more money' or 'Why am I always angry?'.

I am calling out all my favorite self-help authors; if you believe in your work then publish and donate in a concise and portable form.  Not instead of, but in addition to, your already bestselling books.  I, for my part, will contribute.

I've read enough self-help books.  I've been around.  I've seen enough stand-up.  I am ready!  I will write the first all-purpose working class self-help book designed for the working-class.  Yes, I will sell it and, yes, I hope to make a fuckton of money on it!  The point is, I will take my profits and produce a streamlined, tri-fold version to mail out to people who need it and give to the public for free.  I ask all the famous authors who read my blog to consider to do the same.

While I have your attention, my several literary friends, I think I need to reiterate what I mentioned in the title.  If you are not willing to distribute your message free to the public then why not make the title a concise version of the message instead of a base enticement.  'The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People' could have helped millions more people had it been titled 'Plan, Prioritize, Synergize and Stay Positive!' and many people would have never had to read or purchase the book. 'The Secret' isn't a secret, 'Positive Thinking Brings Positive Results' is the new title.

So, you think these poor authors will go broke when no one buys their books?  They will be fine.  One author who generally does exactly what I am talking about, at least in the realm of Self-Help is Stuart Wilde.  Wilde does have the various new age books with aloof titles such as 'The Quickening' (which I thoroughly enjoyed).  His two biggest self-help titles:  'The Trick to Money is Having Some' and 'Life Was Never Meant to be a Struggle' (technically, these are also New Age books but the titles themselves are totally Self-Help).    

Now, as for my upcoming Self-Help authorial debut, I am debating between several subjects.  I think it may come down to one of the following; 'Quit Freaking Out about Dumb Shit: A Guide to Getting the Fuck Over Yourself' and 'Be Careful What You Say, You May Believe It: Stories We Don't Realize We Tell Ourselves'.  I am leaning towards the first one for now.  Either way, I will make sure the people who need the message will get it, as long as they look at the cover.

P.S. Remind me to delete this blog post before I go shopping for a publisher.

How many Jesus does it take to terraform the Moon?

How many Jesus does it take to terraform the Moon?

(a conundrum in two parts)

Being a political topic, I will answer my own question with another question.  Do we need to terraform the moon?

Well, no, but it is time we start talking about this and a few related topics.

The environment is an issue that many people care deeply about.  Unfortunately, it's also an issue that many other people don't give two shits about.  The problem seems to be that if you attempt to force change, there is a certain portion of the population that will rebel against it and these people are none-too-pleased about all this moaning and groaning about Climate Change (the artist formerly known as Global Warming).  Why?  Because these people are pretty sure it's a liberal hoax.

So, since we can't get everyone on board for the big push to keep the earth inhabitable for humans and the people in charge are building bunkers to outlast the apocalypse (and by "people in charge" I mean The Walton Family) I think we need to discuss a timeline for technological advancement to prevent human extinction (and, make no mistake, if the Walton Family are the only ones left standing then humanity is done) or at least predict how fast information can go to meet the demands of an ever conflicting information consumer populous.

PART ONE: The Jesus Scale and Earth's 'Near-Term' Future.

Here's where it gets scary: the best timeline for the best timeline for a major possible global warming event is about 200 years from now.  What is discussed in media most often is a minor global warming event; polar ice caps shed some of their excess, super storms, loss of inhabitable land, etc.  A major global event is much worse: it means that atmospheric levels of gases such as methane and nitrus oxide will be at levels concurrent with those necessary for mass extinction.

To see the future, look to the past.  I have viewed several Geological and Historical Timelines and read and listened to quite a bit about history, the science of climate change, the science of futurism, speculation regarding the fate of the planet; but the funniest thing I have heard regarding this subject is the unit of measure known as the Jesus.  Robert Anton Wilson; deceased philosopher, religious figure and comic lecturer; uses the unit Jesus to signify the amount of information humans compiled from the Bronze Age to the birth of Jesus.  Sweet, now no one can possibly take seriously the very subject that is needed to be raised to determine how long life as we know it has, but, fuck it.

By the Wilson Hypothesis, with information at 1 Jesus at 1 A.D. (1=1: obviously) which took 30,000 years, doubled to 2 Jesus 1500 years after, doubling again 250 years later and so on with nearly exponential growth so that in 1973 information would be at 128 Jesus but with information doubling every year starting around 1989 my current estimate is that we are at a modest 34,359,738,368 Jesus.

Now, with all that information surely we can terraform the moon, right?

Um, yeah.

How do I know?

I googled it.

Okay, so if you dig deep enough you realize that it would be an immense undertaking and the amount of funds it would take to make this happen perhaps don't exist yet at this stage, but it is possible for humanity to enact a terraform program for the moon.

Great, that's solved, but what about this whole earth business?  If we can terraform the moon, and I believe Google says we can, why can't we solve this global climate change crisis with the amount of information we have?

The answer, of course is, we can.  I didn't even have to google that one (but I did it anyway :P).  So what's the big problem?  Well, for one, there are a lot of people who are ignoring a great many Jesus.

PART TWO: Harkening back to Simpler Times.

What an odd phrase: Harken back to simpler times.  Why, wasn't it so peaceful and serene?  Take, say the year 1960, as we all know it was a wonderful time.  In fact, it was the best time!  WWII was over and the children spawned just after VE Day were just turning fourteen; all of them!  Polio had been cured, breast and cervical cancers were virtually unheard of, In God We Trust was implanted on the money just a few years beforehand and racism ... hold on.

(googling...  please wait)

Well, shit was simpler for most people, alright!?  Anyway.  Point is, some sixty-three (63, dammit) years later, many people seem to wish to go back to such simpler times.  No, seriously.  There is a growing number of people who, for whatever reason, want to go back to a simpler time like, say, 1960.

Examples of the media drivers behind this are, of course, FoxNews and other various Neo-Conservative media groups.  These are the same groups that support an agenda of climate change denial.  And, if you say to me 'There is no such thing as Climate Change Denial', I would beg to differ.

So, to paraphrase Walter Sobchak from the film The Big Lebowski, "Say what you will about the tenets of Neo-Conservativism, at leasts an ethos".  Yes, neo-conservativism is an ethos; an ethos that many people ascribe to, and that many politicians adhere to, and several news channels promote.  The problem that this poses for the effective climate change mitigation and correction through policy and social change is that these people essentially agree that they would like to turn back the clock to 1960 A.D.

1960 A.D., if we can just observe the Wilson Hypothesis, was at 64 Jesus.

Recap: 2013 A.D.: 34,359,738,368 Jesus.  1960 A.D.: 64 Jesus.

So, mathematically speaking, neo-conservativism would like to ignore approximately 99.999999981% of all known information available to humans at this time (or, if you will, they deny 34,359,738,304 Jesus).

I don't know about you, but I would not deny that many Jesus.

CONCLUSION: It's late and I Have Work in the Morning. (Amended After a Fair Night's Sleep).

There is no way that I can summarize all the information I have laid out before you, because they are so numerous and I have to be up in six hours for work!  I do want to point out that I do not despise, loathe, hate, distrust or wish ill upon neo-conservatives, per se, but; given the apparent lack of concern for the health and wellbeing of the planet, the inhabitants therein and, thus, their very own lives and futures (in the physical plane, at least); I am forced to conclude that they are operating under the assumption that what they do to the earth is of no consequence.  I, for one, beg to differ.

Some of this conversation, to me, begs for a call to action.  If you, dear reader, would rather breath terrestrial air than terraform the moon (and even if you are still pretty keen on option two but like the idea of visiting Earth for holiday), my hope is that  get vocal about it.  The fact is, you may have a friend or relative who has been on a"global warming is a myth" kick and, maybe it's time to set them straight or, since we don't want to make waves (climate change puns?) you could inform them that you disagree and unless they can produce cold hard facts to the contrary, you will continue to believe that climate change: is real, is dangerous and needs everyone's help to prevent and curtail its destructive path.

Now, finally, and sadly; The Jesus Scale.  I do believe both Robert Anton Wilson and myself had a great deal of fun with the whole Jesus as unit of measure, but we can't continue to refer to a unit of information a Jesus, now can we (or perhaps they will in Europe but I think America will need to call it something else, you know, politics).

Going forward we need to consider the general public in our conversation regarding information as quantifiable resource.  I do believe that the basal unit being fair and equitable; the statistical information Robert Anton Wilson derives from was originally found by French statistician Georges Anderla so I think the unit may need to be called an Anderla (at least in America, where prudence prevails).

I hope this, my first ever blog (some 10 years after the rest of the world stopped updating theirs) has been entertaining and informative.  I look forward to future topics which will be of ever increasingly questionable ilk.

Thank You and Good Night.