When life is but disappointment, and nothing seems amusing...

...we struggle to find the joy that life is haunted by/but what ends when the symbols shatter? What happens to hearts?

I'm aware how there is a very real fear in our culture of how the social death can precede the physical death. Loss of employment or retirement loom large for many men, and suicide or the development of addictive behavioural patterns can be reactions to the loss of public recognition, and hence personal identity. There are other management techniques of course: how else to explain the seeking of refuge in spaces that are deliberately furnished to appear as non-domestic (i.e. non feminine) as possible? Think of the strictly utilitarian, as opposed to decorative, stools etc in your typical pub or workshed, for example. Many rural communities in Australia have taken this onboard to the point of establishing The Men's Shed on a permanent basis, as a place where some men, who would otherwise be at a loose end, can gather free of charge to use hardware on assorted building projects, thereby circumventing any excessive need to carouse, gamble, fuck or fight...each of which may be symptomatic of boredom and depression. It goes without saying that some effort is also expended to promote suicide prevention initiatives.

It's like my mother has always told me: "many women get used to invisibility fairly early in their lives, while more than a few men struggle to accept not always getting a parade". I hope this is changing over time. I'm able to recognise this palpable sense of dread from the perspective of the female character in the opening sequence of Safe that I've posted here: the mobile privatisation of the car winding its way through the dark labyrinth of suburbia to the accompaniment of an eerie synth score. Julianne Moore's character is basically swallowed by space. But I also get what my mum was trying to tell me: Age eventually unmaketh the man too. To drive the point home further, just look at how no one has yet written the white male middleclass equivalent of Betty Friedan's pioneering feminist work, The Feminine Mystique.

Other than Douglas P, whose lyrics I've quoted, perhaps it is not surprising how more forthcoming the New Queer Cinema has been about some of these dilemmas. I've decided to put up here some of my favourite scenes from movies by Todd Haynes and Gus Van Sant that capture entrapment, abjection and invisibility particularly well. John Hurt's character in Love and Death in Long Island is a case in point of someone who is reawakened by finding something beautiful where he least expected to find it. Many people can relate to this as this is surely part of the appeal of falling in love: a form of contingency that reminds you how life still has hitherto unknown possibilities, sometimes even for the most lowly, unappreciated self, who otherwise holds out few prospects for redemption. This brings my mind back to lyrics. Sadly, either possibility was ultimately too overwhelming for poor old Ian Curtis to handle, and he detailed this struggle in almost every song he ever wrote. For example, who can forget that Joy Division's debut album was called Unknown Pleasures, and what about this line too from the song "Twenty Four Hours" featured on Closer, "I never realised the lengths I'd have to go/all the darkest corners of a sense I didn't know/just for one moment I heard somebody call/look beyond the day at hand/there's nothing there at all".

You know it's strange, I started thinking about this stuff last night as I was watching the new series of Doctor Who. I'm sure many people dream of having the Doctor's lifestyle: just like a cowboy, he is a free agent who can travel but still periodically enter communities to perform good works, before departing again. Nirgal was similar in Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars series: he was a loner, but he wasn't a hermit. I find much to agree with too in Houellebecq's observation (in his Lovecraft book) that people who like to read and write are generally not that enthused about life in other respects.

These proclivities can be distinguished from the extremes I've posted here. I'm someone who likes pathos, and there is plenty to be found in the clips which follow. But I'll also never forget the guy at university who could only [read: exclusively] listen to Closer, who worked as a toolmaker. His other obsession was the tragic life of Jean Seberg. What I look back on most of all though is the stories he used to tell about growing up and the people he had encountered at work. So I'll recount my personal favourite about his working life: he had a workmate who used to get up early every morning to read Proust ("struggling to find the joy" perhaps). Anyway, one morning the workmate was talking continuously about the dilemmas faced by Raskolnikov (i.e. the anti-hero of Dostoyevsky's novel, Crime and Punishment). He disappeared into the bathroom at lunchtime, eventually re-emerging with a shaved head. His scalp was bleeding profusely as he'd used a very crude razor. Everyone just stood there in silence, uncertain how to react. What would be his next move? The man placed one of the workstools on the bench and sat himself down: "Now that I've got your attention, let me ask again: does anyone remember Raskolnikov?" Why be so demonstrative to try to get across a point? I won't pretend to understand, and suspect I'm not alone in that respect. So you might reasonably expect that psychiatric treatment would follow and this man would be certified as unfit for work, but according to my friend, that is not what happened. Perhaps these struggles are more common afterall than many of us realise, and people are sometimes able to find ways to manage their suffering more effectively than they're usually given credit for by so-called "experts" in mental health?

That's a pretty important point, so permit me to say something more about it. I don't claim any sort of superiority here because I've always preferred to think in terms of an anecdote Lacan related. A specialist in "ego psychology" informed him that she felt she was a good therapist thanks to her "strong personality". Lacan confessed that he felt the exact opposite: it was because he could empathise so closely with his patients' distress that he was able to treat them. In a manner of speaking, "there but for the grace of God go I".

Seeing I've posted the opening of Last Days here, it is fitting to close this post with lyrics by a band from the days of Seattle's grunge scene: the song is called "The Birds", and the band is Skin Yard. It's such a great summation that there is little I can add. It's worth watching the rest of the film too as there is another great scene of a door to door salesman meeting Blake at his isolated mansion. Blake is preoccupied by his own problems to the point he can barely communicate. To his credit, the salesman is not fazed by Blake's demeanor, or his disheveled appearance (Blake is also wearing women's clothing at the time).

I'm sitting in a rather small room
My walls have nothing to say
I memorize every hole
Squinting eyes all day

Fold me up and bring me home
With the night I cannot stay!

Violence surrounds my house
I'm a loco loser
Springing the noose, stay rather far

I rest from the fact
The birds cover trees on my side
Violence surrounds my house
So I sit on the side
These birds are mine, together
The friends of your blood
I smile, then divide
The birds all take mine

Fold me up and bring me home
No I will not stay
These birds surround my house
I cannot stay

I'm sitting in a rather small room
My walls have nothing to say
I memorize every hole
Squinting eyes all day

Resting from the fact the birds
The birds cover the trees, my side
Violence surrounds my house
So I sit on the side

These birds
My mind
Together
They fly

On the side I hide my eyes
Stole my mind
I feel my flight

The milkman passes through today, on his way
He's bringing home the noose of mine
The birds are his tree
I'm sitting in a rather small room
My eyes of nothing left to say
I can remember a time I was
As pretty as the day!

Anomie and Forward Panic

Randall Collins has recently written an innovative study of the dynamics of "Violence: A Micro-sociological Theory". In his conception of "forward panic" he makes the case that violent confrontations are oftentimes about mutual emotional entrainment, and where there is equilibrium in this respect between opposing forces, this generally ensures that confrontations will not escalate into violence. This he contrasts with situations where "forward panic" eventuates, wherein the build up of tension gains an excessive release because of a sudden change in momentum (such as an unexpected gain of advantage, capitulation, reinforcement of forces on one's side etc). So forward panic carries over into patterns of overkill, and Collins adduces numerous examples where this can lead to massacres, other events such as the beating of Rodney King (where police outnumber an individual whom they confront after an ennervating protracted chase), or a raucous party erupting into violence when the outnumbered police arrive, and attempt to disperse the gathering.

The level of detail Collins marshalls is too fine for me to reproduce here, so I'll briefly concentrate instead on the flipside of the dynamic he describes. According to him, any gathering is liable to produce its own temporary stratification, a "situational elite of those who are striving to take part, and a fringe of those excluded" (p256). In other words, there is a dynamic to emergence, and conversely, there is a dynamics of "submergence"; of outsiders looking for action, something to "jump into". It's the David Hicks, and [maybe] the Lee Harvey Oswald character type all over, but only insofar as we do not psychologise them too much, or rather, read the psychology in terms of the sum total of "emotional energy" gathered from the micro situations the individual has passed through up until that time. This explains a lot too about the opportunism of those who change their levels of commitment, and indeed their political orientation, on a situational basis.

For some unable to actualise their potential in such situations, the only remaining token of commitment and belonging are fetish objects, such as the military clothing adopted by lone males in civilian life as an expression of personal identity [pictured above]. Here action does not translate into mutual entrainment, but can only be intensified by individual movement that serves no larger purpose. It is one of the most recognisable forms of anomie in contemporary societies. These tokens can be readily purchased in army surplus stores [pictured above], unlike completion of the rites of passage leading to the more highly coveted group membership (i.e. the original context of the uniform). This disparity makes the actions of the anomic type closer to the parody of rationalisation Duchamp portrayed in his machines, which technically "worked", such as a bicycle wheel fastened to a chair, (the wheel was still capable of spinning afterall), but performed meaningless functions.

Other civlian groups have got around these inherent problems of anomie by adopting the trappings of membership in (pseudo)military organisations. Football fans can thus lay claim to membership of a "Tartan Army" for example, whilst English cricket fans can participate in "The Barmy Army". Although they typify a shortcut to attaining the status of membership in something approximating the military, one should not lose sight of how violence can still perform a ritual function for some of these groups. For example,the infamous football "crews" strive in off field confrontations with rival fans to reproduce the intensity they experience in a crowd of likeminded individuals united against a common foe during a match. The biggest mistake of English football authorities then was to separate opposing fans into "cages", for what happened was that this merely intensified their feelings of solidarity, which could then more easily later spill over into forward panic.

text by nhuthnance

photos by ahuthnance

Protest Masculinity

Well it may be that time of the year when not much of anything is going on, and certainly not much in the way of blogging in this neck of the woods. I had to work yesterday, though I am so thankful it was online work as I try to adjust my lifestyle so that I am free of office politics.

I was reflecting on this as I visited my parents' neighbours, native Liverpudlians by birth, for a quiet Christmas drink and something to eat, when "Ray" dropped a bombshell, that amazingingly helped put things into proper perspective. He told the story of how he decided to walk up the street a while back, only to be accosted by two successive carloads of males. The first group asked him if he knew where Woolworths was, when, after directing them, they asked him if he would put on a pink tutu and pose for photographs. He refused. Ten minutes later, another car pulls up: "where is the hospital, mate? By the way, can you put this policeman's helmet on so we can take your photo?" Reluctantly, Ray agreed to this request, conditional on him turning his head away from the camera, so that his face couldn't be seen in the photo. That car then drove off. About 2 minutes later, the first car reappears, "mate, we need you to put that pink tutu on for us". Peering closely into the back seat, Ray could clearly see that the guy waving the tutu at him was none other than the disgraced "Rugby League Legend" Andrew Johns. Because the guys were getting more rowdy, having already buzzed him a few times up and down the street, Ray again compromised by holding the tutu up near his crotch, refusing to actually put it on. After much raucous laughter from Johns and co., and photo snapping, they drove off.

Ray is a guy in his fifties, who was wary of provoking a group of younger guys, not least because he feared it might escalate to the level of, "let's get the Pom", or something similar. He was also obviously pissed off about the bully boy tactics of targeting an older guy for homophobic humour, with the additional prospect that the image could then be used on the tv show, "The Footy Show", without seeking permission/disclosing the intended motive; "Smile, you're on Candid Camera" (it can hardly be coincidental that Andrew's brother Matthew is a "comedy" star of "The Footy Show").

In this instance we perhaps see evidence of the kind of aestheticisation of everyday life, which has featured here in previous blog posts. The stranger becomes even more anonymous, as no forethought is given to extending hospitality by attempting to engage in reciprocal communicative action. But because this incident most likely took place strictly for "kicks", rather than as an upcoming incident on a tv show, where it would have constituted a from of "work" (albeit masquerading as a polar opposite of "fun", leisure), I think it useful to contextualise it as part of the broader critical approach theorists have brought to categorising the different forms of hegemonic masculinity. The excellent piece I've pasted below speaks to the issues I've raised here, insofar as it distinguishes between two variants of working class "protest masculinity", namely an integrative and anomic form. The latter attracts more attention, in the context of tabloids in the United Kingdom for example, in reportage of incidents of "happy slapping" and the like. Inevitably, given the attendant sensationalism, this leads to neglect of the integrative potential of hazing rituals and so forth as perverse forms of workplace solidarity. No doubt the feedback mechanisms between the two can be powerful, in the sense that the projection of shame in the workplace can seek substitutes elsewhere (not least in the domestic sphere, where much violence has to do with compensation for a perceived lack of control).

It seems to me that Klaus Theweleit offers some resources in his account of "Male Fantasies" for understanding the ideal fantasy state where integrative and anomic masculinities fuse. It would be appropriate here to speak of "quest masculinity", as the accomplishment of rational objectives takes place through a confrontation with liminal affective states, more often fear or primordial loyalties rather than intimate relations per se, as the ultimate proving ground. Small wonder then that such fantasies are so easily commodified and pre-packaged. I've had enough experience in the service industry to observe the bedrooms of teenage boys decorated with "Lord of the Rings" and "Eragorn" posters, alongside the obligatory posters featuring Andrew Johns in action on the football field, to recognise the archetype when I see it. To walk into a bedroom decorated in this fashion, and see a bookshelf overflowing with Tom Clancy titles, is to experience a confirmatory authority firsthand. Leisure time in such instances is nothing less than an insidious part of the afterhours production line, a colonisation by rational techniques far more munane than Theweleit's extreme examples, or the activities of elites, say the notorious Skull N' Bones Club, would indicate ("here, tell us your sexual history while we circle jerk into the coffin you are lying in...."). I later learned that the young man in the Clancy case, who ironically used to live in Ray's house, was also a card carrying member of the Australian Young Liberals Party. And yes, I'm thoroughly sick of the obligatory appearance of "Top Gun" and "The Matrix" in the dvd collections too (for quest masculinity, going to work becomes imbued with a pompous Neo-style religious ambience, as [white boy] phantasised compensation for the disenchantment inflicted by increasing rationalisation).

I couldn't help then choosing a contrasting image with Johns, that of Raewyn Connell, formerly Robert Connell, international doyen of Masculinity Studies. She has come some way since early student days, when Robert was affectionately known around campus as "Prince Valiant", on account of his theatrical flair for purple knee high boots and the like.

In any case, this post is really just a long-winded excuse for saying, "Andrew Johns, you Sir, are a dickhead"....

Walker, G. W. (2004, Aug)
Disciplining Protest Masculinity Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Sociological Association, Hilton San Francisco & Renaissance Parc 55 Hotel, San Francisco, CA, Online <.PDF> Retrieved 2006-10-05 from http://www.allacademic.com/meta/p108485_index.html
Publication Type: Conference Paper/Unpublished Manuscript

Review Method: Peer Reviewed

Abstract:

Protest masculinity is a gendered identity oriented toward a protest of the relations of production and the ideal type of hegemonic masculinity. To this point protest masculinity has been conceived as a destructive, chaotic and alienating sort of masculinity. This interpretation is incomplete, for it does not include efforts on the part of men to use protest masculinity for its integrative potential. This study is the product of ethnographic inquiry and documents skilled working class men using methods of social control to discipline protest masculinity and orient it into a less destructive and more harmonious state. At the end of the analysis, I propose a grounded nomenclature to manage the theoretical concepts. "Anomic protest masculinity" is the unguided and destructive sort. "Disciplined protest masculinity" is the product of intensive social control and functions to increase solidarity among working class men.

http://www.allacademic.com/meta/p108485_index.html