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Cultural Stealth Wars

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Mark Twain Home, An Anti-Imperialist, New York Herald [New York, 10/15/1900]

I left these shores, at Vancouver, a red-hot imperialist. I wanted the American eagle to go screaming into the Pacific. It seemed tiresome and tame for it to content itself with the Rockies. Why not spread its wings over the Philippines, I asked myself? And I thought it would be a real good thing to do.

I said to myself, here are a people who have suffered for three centuries. We can make them as free as ourselves, give them a government and country of their own, put a miniature of the American constitution afloat in the Pacific, start a brand new republic to take its place among the free nations of the world. It seemed to me a great task to which we had addressed ourselves.

But I have thought some more, since then, and I have read carefully the treaty of Paris, and I have seen that we do not intend to free, but to subjugate the people of the Philippines. We have gone there to conquer, not to redeem.

We have also pledged the power of this country to maintain and protect the abominable system established in the Philippines by the Friars.

It should, it seems to me, be our pleasure and duty to make those people free, and let them deal with their own domestic questions in their own way. And so I am an anti-imperialist. I am opposed to having the eagle put its talons on any other land.

Source: From Mark Twain’s Weapons of Satire: Anti-Imperialist Writings on the Philippine-American War, Jim Zwick, ed., (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1992).

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When Michael Jackson released the video for ‘Black or White’ in 1991, I remember thinking that what he was celebrating wasn’t a breaking down of walls between black & white, but between an American dancer & the rest of the world who apparently desired to be an American. Multiple shots of traditional dances transforming into the dance moves dictated by Jackson seemed to indicate that the logical end-state of our ‘coming together’ was to come to America. It was not so much a celebration of difference as an invocation of sameness. A conquering, as it were, where all people – white or black – come together under one very culturally-specific standard.

This is clearly the over-analysis of a young mind. Still, it often seems to me that the flaw in mass consumerism is the assumption we’ll all consume the same thing. Aliette de Bodard has written a challenging post about the export of US tropes across the world. Which, in my estimation, isn’t about ‘THE’ US culture, but is about the ‘normalised’ version of US culture that is so easy to find & easy to digest. In my travels it’s struck me how diverse the US is, how much MORE diverse it is than the TV & cinema (& less often, the books) that get shipped across the world. (Someone even once told me the standards US accent for film is “Chicago”, not that I can gauge whether that’s true or not). And the standard-bearers are the ones making the decisions on what’s bought & sold, written & consumed.

As to dubbing: Police Rescue was an Australian TV show in the nineties that also sold to the UK & some parts of Europe. It didn’t show in the US, however, and according to an interview I heard years back (and warning: I haven’t been able to locate a reference for this while I write this today), that was because the potential US buyer wanted the rights to dub the show “into American”, fearing the Australian accents would be incomprehensible to an audience spoon fed images & sounds of itself.

As screenplay writer David Williamson postulates in his film, Emerald City: if we don’t tell our own stories in our own accents, we forget who we are.

Mind you, I have my own ideas about ‘our stories’ which would probably have to form the basis of an entirely new post (hint: it doesn’t necessarily involve the “great” Australian bush).

Poe’s Deadly Daughters

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Hey, hi, how you been? What’ve you been up to? Me? No, just busy, is all. But I’m hoping to get away soon-ish. Do you tweet?

As an early birthday present, I scored an invitation to be part of the fabulous Poe’s Deadly Daughters blog this weekend (this weekend in Canada, which is a few hours behind the Sydney weekend). The awesome Sharon Wildwind made me think really hard about everything the Australian landscape has ever meant to me (namely: something horrible) after some comments I made on a WFC panel some years back. People have largely ignored me when I’ve complained about the creepiness of the landscape before, so this is a great leap forward.

Lemme know what you think.

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Lemme just read that again

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“This is an original and unusual work whose purpose is to make madness”

That’s what I read on the dust jacket flap for THE DIVIDED SELF, R.D. Laing’s first published examination of ‘ontological insecurity’ — the sense for some people that they’re losing themselves, becoming lost in the world.

For many students of psych, Laing holds a special place. He was described by my lecturers as a ‘psychedelic psychologist’: criticised for his mind-bending poetry, applauded for his humanity. If I recall correctly, Laing & his students would check themselves into mental institutions to expose them from the inside out as places that ‘blamed the victim’, that described the patients’ behaviour in ways that re-emphasised (& moralised) their illnesses.

‘Look at how the patients cluster around the lunchroom an hour early. Clearly they’re displaying greed,’ went the populist view of the ‘crazy’ behaviour found in these institutions.
‘Look at how little the patients have to do here, & how often they’re ignored. What else is there, of a day, apart from eat lunch?’ argued Laing.

And this was really Laing’s stance: that our attempts to fit into the world as it is cause us distress. That psychosis has a social birthplace. That the conversation of crazy people was a result of an attempt to express the distress caused by a crazy world. Laing was revolutionary in valuing the content of psychotic behavior and speech as a valid expression of distress, albeit wrapped in an enigmatic language of personal symbolism which is meaningful only from within their situation, claims Wikipedia. Laing also went a little bit further (some might say ‘a little bit too far’) in suggesting that the voyage of psychosis was ‘shamanistic’, leading to deeper revelations about truth & reality. A popular & dare I suggest potentially destructive portrayal of mental disorder, the kind of thing found sometimes in Janet Frame’s (occasionally self-justifying?) writing, & such movies as ‘The Fisher King’: a kind of poetic self-destructiveness, later validated in a sentimental reality. More productively, Laing’s ideas have ended up, in a pragmatic form, establishing the foundations for modern psychotherapy. Relation to the world is equivalent to the relation to the self, argues psychotherapy. Change your perception of the world, change yourself.

One strand of Laing’s thinking, traceable to Marx and Sartre, condemns society for shackling humankind against its will, taking away individual freedom.

This I’ll come back to in later days, having just finished Albert Camus’ THE OUTSIDER (aka THE STRANGER) & not found myself completely convinced of the tyranny of society, nor the absolute rights of the individual.

On the one hand, I applaud Laing’s recognition of the reality of the individual, the dichotomy between self & other & the anxiety that can cause. On the other hand, I can’t carry that through to the *lack* of responsibility of the individual. If the world and my distress has lead to my disordered (differently-ordered?) thinking, can I be excused from killing a man? By logical extension, yes. By every other moral standard … lines must still be drawn.

Oh, & the rest of that quote from the dust jacket? It actually goes,

“This is an original and unusual work whose purpose is to make madness, and the process of going mad, comprehensible to many who have no direct experience with this phenomenon. R. D. Laing offers new insights to many who, in either a professional or a personal context, are familiar with madness. He examines certain forms of madness in an existential frame of reference — the man who is an “outsider”, estranged equally from himself and from society, unable to experience himself and others as being real and substantial. An individual who is so basically insecure develops a “false” self with which to confront his world, in order to achieve some formula for living with his anxiety and despair. This process may lead to the gradual disintegration of the whole personality, and Laing traces the lives of a number of schizoid and schizophrenic individuals.”
– The Divided Self, R.D. Laing, 1960, Tavistock Publications

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What went down in San Jose

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First morning in San Jose I was woken by conversation in the corridor. One side of a conversation, anyhow. Someone calling ‘Security!’ at the door of — thankfully — another room. Nothing for a while after that as they went inside, then as they came back I heard them say they’d put a call into 911. It was kinda creepy and weird, made more so because I couldn’t hear anyone else talking. Just this one deep-voiced security guy who seemed a little bored. Wildly, I assumed someone had died. Really, though, I’ve no idea what happened that night.

A couple of mornings later there was, unrelatedly (I assume), police tape in the lobby. And then stories of a woman being raped. ‘The hell kinda place is this?’ I wondered. Now it transpires she was part of a con. And a suspect in an armed robbery.

Today of all days I heard this, white ribbon day — a day to campaign to stop violence against women. Seriously, unknown-armed-robber-woman, taking advantage of victims of rape is lousy.

So, let’s all buy ribbons and cover our clothes and hair with a message against violence!

Water and dust

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Apparently California is in the middle of a drought. Not as bad as the Australian one, apparently: we are increasingly unable to grow rice. This is a logical conclusion I hadn’t really considered. Unable to grow rice? What the.

Then again, perhaps we’ll be able to grow rice in the Arctic soon enough.

Water is one of those fascinating (frightening) aspects of climate change. I hadn’t thought to combine it before with the current literature trend in will-we-eat-ourselves-to-death books. Food shortages as the end of civilisation. It seems so logical.

In other news there is carpentry going on at casa deborahb now (yes, during my allotted writing time) & though the noise of it is distracting, the smell of fresh cut wood on a bitingly cold winter day is oddly cheering. Makes this little city grrl want to head out to a farm and sit in the barn all day.

… What is Australian for barn?

It’s a spaceship!

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My favourite Twitter buddy & source of inspiration? New Scientist.

Clouds as Spaceship

Yesterday they were looking at clouds. Some amazing images there. No wonder we believe in the supernatural. If the world can create ‘accidental’ images like this, it’s very confusing…

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