Judith's Nightmare

Halloween is a time where all the little boys and girls get dressed up and, for once a year, get to be someone else. The key here is "once a year". But what if, perhaps, these children put on this "performance" every day? Would one continue to consider this a performance? Good 'ol Judith Butler would most likely answer "hell no" to this question. If we made ghost costumes and "sexy cop" attire our everyday wear, if we continually applied scary makeup and ran around yelling "boo!" to senior citizens, these acts would eventually become naturalized and thought of as "normal". After all, we do this exact thing every day. Butler argues that this is precisely how (binary) gender is produced--through regulative discourses and performativity; the sexed body is culturally constructed. It is not a natural occurance that boys act, dress and perform "as boys" and girls do the same. We are constantly exposed to these binary ideologies and thus they become "natural" and "true" to us. After all, it makes interpellation sooo much simpler. And we can easily form subjects and make assumptions about sexual preference this way. It may prove slightly difficult to form sexual binaries between sexy cops and ghouls, though.

I have been thinking a lot about Baudrillard's suggestion that significance requires reflection, and the idea reflection is not something that we are capable in a world that strives for perfection. It's true! History is completely lost and forgotten through the pursuit of perfection. It's almost as though we want to forget the history of some things--we want to feel as though we've come such a long way from before (especially technology wise) and we smirk at the attempts of the past. Music is a perfect example. Few would be caught dead on their morning jog with a tape player hooked to their shorts or sliding an 8-Track into their car stereo. And hence, music's history is lost. Please don't allow yourself to feel any loss, though--no one else does! We need to forget about the old and bring in the new! Adorno and Horkheimer, although very un-postmodernist, do touch on this idea. It really ties into the idea of popular culture, mass culture, and constant consumerism. We are constantly presented with endless simulacra and furthermore, the commodifcation of that endless simulacra. Planned obsolescence is the driving force of capitalist socitey today. How many new versions of the i-pod have come out in the last three years? They are really trying hard to perfect this whole music thing. And there is not a single doubt in my mind that countless people have "invested" in purchasing not only one or two but all of these "new-and-improved" versions. Our pursuit or perfection is not only making history disappear, it's costing a lot of dough (not to mention turning a huge profit for some lucky investors). Maybe if we sat back for a second and reflected, we might find a thread of significance in this hyperreality. (And save some money while we're at it).

A Song of Two Humans

I recently attended a screening of the Murnau's 1927 silent film, Sunrise! at the Edmonton Film Festival. Murnau claims the story to be a "song of two humans"; that it is not a depiction of any two specific individuals, but a general series of events that occurs to some extent in any romantic relationship. Because it is a silent film, every action and gesture is extremely hyperbolic and excessive in order to "speak" to the audeince. In the movie, a married farm boy falls in love with a woman from the city who convinces him to kill his wife so that he can escape his life and start a new one with her. He attempts the murder but fails, comes to the beautiful epiphany that he loves his wife after all, and begs for her back. She, being the typical "normal", docile woman she is, takes him back with open arms and they live happily ever after (after she nearly drowns and is miraculously saved). It is quite interesting that attempting to murder your spouse is a normal occurance in every relationship. Definitely not something to be alarmed about. Its normal! And it's even more normal to forgive and forget (if you're the woman) and live happily ever after. The funny thing is, I highly doubt that it was Murnau's sole intention to hypebolize the inherent patriarchy in every single relationship that ever there was in order to expose and stick it to the norms. Anyways, it's just a thought.

On another note, this summer I had the pleasure of visiting the Louvre, home of the Mona Lisa, in Paris. Having been actually shoved out of the way by an elderly woman so that she could get a better view of the masterpiece, I stand by my theory that the reproduction of Art does not "shrivel the aura" of the original. The mass amounts of people who waited in line for three hours in the blistering heat, paid twelve dollars and aggressively moved their way through the swarms of tourists surrounding Leonardo's work could have simply purchased a refrigerator magnet from the gift shop downstairs. But that was not the case. They all felt the need to be in the presence of it; to be absorbed by it. And I have to say, it did feel like a very asocial environment to be in. Probably because everyone was simultaneuosly contemplating the art, distancing themselves from everything around them. But mainly because I was shoved.

Moving on to the disturbing scene from The L-Word. I think its awesome that ideas that really make us question dominant discourse in our society are now being shown on real live TV. Like, say for instance, a woman being raped? by her lesbian lover. While the thoughts that ran thorugh my head were disturbed ones, not once did I comtemplate whether it was a rape scene. To be completely honest, I actually felt some sympathy for the one who was in Flash Dance (raper?...) . Was it because she was a woman? I highly doubt that if her character was a male, I would have felt bad OR questioned for a milli-second whether it was rape or not. It's amazing how many norms and discourses are exposed by that 3 minute scene.