If there is any corporation we should be calling out at the moment, it is not a breast cancer foundation, but Nike. Over the past few months they have shown they do not care about the behavior of the athletes they represent. Not surprisingly both incidents regard women. Tiger Woods and Ben Roethlisberger continue to be supported by Nike. Perhaps with the Roethlisberger case, Nike looks even worse. After all, cheating on your wife is very different from sexual assault and rape. Interestingly, Nike dropped Michael Vick after he was convicted of dog fighting. Animal abuse is a terrible thing but may I be so bold as to say that abusing women is worse? Nike clearly does not care about its female consumers. Furthermore, there are many talented female athletes whom Nike chooses not to represent. I hope that women seriously consider these issues the next time they are thinking about buying a Nike product. I know I cannot support a brand that supports these men.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Right Now, We Are Converging
I wrote this for my personal blog several months ago, but I thought it would be pertinent here:
**************
This totally has to be an homage to the Van Halen video for "Right Now." Right? It totally does.
The song they use is even "Right Here, Right Now." Surriously showing some love to Van Halen.
This is interesting stuff, and I'd love to poke around and learn more about how they assessed these statistics. This is like pure nerdgasm fodder for people in my field, especially the parts about communications technologies. Fans of Henry Jenkins will no doubt be thinking of his discussions of participatory cultures and media convergence. However, Jenkins doesn't attribute rapid media evolution to technology alone, but, rather, to changes in protocols - how we use technologies, how we experience them, and how we think about them. Technologies only function as we utilize them, only mean as we make them mean, and these things are constantly changing.
Let us avoid the pitfalls of the "digital revolution" paradigm, which was oh-so-popular in the 90s. Jenkins explains, “In the 1990s, rhetoric about a coming digital revolution contained an implicit and often explicit assumption that new media was going to push aside old media, that the Internet was going to replace broadcasting, and that all of this would enable consumers to more easily access media content that was personally meaningful to them.”[i] According to this view, the televisual medium would completely disappear and be replaced by personalized Internet media consumption. “Yet,” Jenkins writes, “history teaches us that old media never die – and they don’t even necessarily fade away. What dies are simply the tools we use to access media content – the 8-track, the Beta tape. These are what media scholars call delivery technologies.…Delivery technologies become obsolete and get replaced; media, on the other hand, evolve.”[ii] So, while the current iteration of the television set may disappear, Television will not suddenly cease to exist. The desktop computer may go the way of the dodo, but the Internet will not disappear with it. Telephones and mobile telephones may be replaced by chips embedded in our ears for all I know, but we will still be making some version of the phone call for many years to come, even if it’s not still called a “phone” call. These media have changed and will change, but they will not simply be destroyed in one fell swoop.
This is the nature of convergence. As Jenkins explains, “If the digital revolution paradigm presumed that new media would displace old media, the emerging convergence paradigm assumes that old and new media will interact in ever more complex ways.”[iii] However, convergence does not mean that every medium will merge into one supermedium, or that every delivery technology will merge into one superdevice. This misconception is what Jenkins calls the “Black Box Fallacy”: “Sooner or later, the argument goes, all media content is going to flow through a single black box into our living rooms (or, in the mobile scenario, through black boxes we carry around with us everywhere we go). If…folks…could just figure out which black box will reign supreme, then everyone can make reasonable investments for the future.”[iv] However, convergence is a not a static point on the horizon, but, rather, a constantly evolving process. There is no endpoint in which media consumption is pumped through a single channel. Jenkins observes,
I don’t know about you, but in my living room, I am seeing more and more black boxes. There are my VCR, my digital cable box, my DVD player, my digital recorder, my sound system, and my two game systems, not to mention a huge mound of videotapes, DVDs and CDS, game cartridges and controllers, sitting atop, laying alongside, toppling over the edge of my television system…The perpetual tangle of cords that stands between me and my “home entertainment” center reflects the degree of incompatibility and dysfunction that exist between the various media technologies.[v]
Even using a television set has not become more streamlined, but, rather, more accessorized. The various technologies associated with Television exist in constant reassociation, not inevitable consolidation into a single machine (even if sometimes functionalities merge). Of course, a television set is not Television any more than a CD player is music. Jenkins maintains, “Part of what makes the black box concept a fallacy is that it reduces media change to technological change and strips aside the cultural levels we are considering here.”[vi] Convergence is not about shifting usage from an old device to a new replacement device as much as it is about the flow of content among different platforms. It does not follow a singularly linear trajectory, but, rather, a rhizomatic series of associations. This is why Television did not banish radio from the earth, and why the Internet has not, in turn, shut down the Television industry. Are these media changed? Most definitely. Convergence is a process of adaptation and evolution, not extinction.
Moreover, shifts in media are greatly related to shifts in the cultures surrounding them. Let’s take Television as a case study here. Television is a largely communal activity – “research on television suggests that while homes may have multiple televisions, only one set is on during prime time in most households because we still prefer to watch television content socially rather than individually and the shows that do best are those that give us content we can talk about with others.”[vii] Even if one is physically alone when viewing a particular program, as one often is, one can still participate in a viewing culture, whether at the office or online. Whereas some theorists emphasize the individual nature of Television viewing today, Jenkins argues that “the greatest changes are occurring within consumption communities.”[viii] He cites Marshall Sella of the New York Times:
With the aid of the Internet, the loftiest dream for television is being realized: an odd brand of interactivity. Television began as a one-way street winding from producers to consumers, but that street is now becoming two-way. A man with one machine (a TV) is doomed in isolation, but a man with two machines (TV and a computer) can belong to a community.[ix]
Jenkins might argue that the phenomenon is not inherently linked to having these “two machines” specifically, but, rather, to having access to a network of fans. In turn, these fan networks can have a measurable effect on Television. Certainly in terms of ratings, communities can create buzz or ill-will toward a show, affecting viewership and causing the show to be either more profitable or less profitable for its broadcasters (and thus, either worth or not worth keeping on the air). This is not a terribly new concept, but it is enhanced by greater accessibility to networked communities. Fans have even been known to save a particular show from being canned (“Chuck”),[x] or even bring one back from the grave (“Family Guy”).[xi]
Further than this, however, fan communities can even come to influence content, scheduling, and ancillary media products like websites, text message systems, and official fanfiction forums. Because a great deal of Television is episodic in nature, it has the potential to adapt to feedback with much more ease and swiftness than media like books or movies. Moreover, the feedback itself is more immediate and copious (which, no doubt, can also cause some headaches). Fans are afforded a greater sense of participation in the works of media they consume, and, sometimes, an actual influence on those works of media. Jenkins notes, “Across the past decade, the Web has brought these consumers to the margins of the media industry into the spotlight; research into fandom has been embraced by important thinkers in the legal and business communities….Participation is understood as part of the normal ways the media operate, while the current debates center around the terms of our participation.”[xii]
Fans are not given carte blanche, and surely the acceptance of viewer participation on the part of the producers and networks is motivated by economic opportunity, rather than an egalitarian commitment to “democratizing” Television. (Although Al Gore did in fact launch a cable channel, called Current, whose broadcasts are composed partially of content produced by viewers.)[xiii] And, certainly, sometimes what is really provided is the illusion of participation, rather than actual participation. Do we really know for sure that NBC wasn’t going to bring back “Chuck” anyway? Do we know they didn’t orchestrate the whole Internet-fueled “Save Chuck” campaign, with its largescale “buycot” strategy? Do we know that it was the fans, and not the network, who initiated the campaign to buy sandwiches from Subway (a “Chuck” sponsor) en masse and drop comment cards asking them to help save the show? Doesn’t this have a certain odor about it? (And I’m not talking about that distinctive Subway smell…the one that allows one to detect the presence of a Subway from up to a mile away with only a moderately brisk wind in one’s direction.)
Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe I’m just a Naysayer Nellie. It’s quite possible that the fans did save the show, and, as Jenkins has repeatedly shown, there have been plenty of instances in which fan cultures have enacted demonstrable media change. Does this mean that the fans are in charge? Certainly not. However, Jenkins argues that media participation may afford consumers a greater measure of power in the marketplace. In Convergence Culture’s conclusion, an article entitled “Democratizing Television? The Politics of Participation,” he maintains,
We are just learning how to exercise that power – individually and collectively – and we are still fighting to define the terms under which we will be allowed to participate. Many fear this power; others embrace it. There are no guarantees that we will use our new power any more responsibly than nation-states or corporations have exercised theirs. We are trying to hammer out the ethical codes and social contracts that will determine how we will relate to one another just as we are trying to determine how this power will insert itself into the entertainment system or into the political process.[xiv]
If viewers can jump on the train of rapid media changeability, they can maybe, just maybe, have a seat at the table. He asks, “Have I gone too far? Am I granting too much power here to these consumption communities? Perhaps. But keep in mind that I am not really trying to predict the future.”[xv] He avoids the mistake of making grand pronouncements that will come to haunt him later. “Rather,” he says, “I am trying to point toward the democratic potentials found in some contemporary cultural trends. There is nothing inevitable about the outcome. Everything is up for grabs.”[xvi]
[i] Henry Jenkins, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide, Updated ad with a New Afterward (New York: New York University Press, 2006), 5.
[ii] Ibid, 13.
[iii] Ibid, 6.
[iv] Ibid, 14-15.
[v] Ibid, 15.
[vi] Ibid.
[vii] Henry Jenkins, “Catching Up: The Future of Television,” Confessions of an Aca-Fan: The Complete Weblog of Henry Jenkins. July 24, 2006. Available Last accessed Jan. 7, 2010.
[viii] Jenkins, Convergence Culture, 255.
[ix] Marshall Sella, “The Remote Controllers,” New York Times, October 20, 2002, qtd. in Jenkins, Convergence Culture, 256.
[x] See www.chuckmeout.com.
[xi] See “‘Family Guy Returns to FOX,” FOX News Online, Apr. 30, 2005. Available Last accessed Jan. 7, 2010.
[xii] Jenkins, Convergence Culture, 257.
[xiii] Ibid, 251.
[xiv] Ibid, 256.
[xv] Ibid, 257.
[xvi] Ibid, 258.
Haul Videos
http://runway.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/22/tube-tops-and-teddy-bears/?ref=fashion
http://www.youtube.com/user/allthatglitters21?blend=1&ob=4I'm having a hard time understanding what this is. Basically, a new phenomenon has begun where girls post videos of them showing everything they just bought from a shopping trip. Or they show random objects in their room or they show you how to put on makeup. This particular one, by Elle Fowler, has over 11 million views. Over 11 million people have watched her put on makeup, show her princess piggy bank, and give her opinions about the value of sororities. I can't think of something that more represents our obsession with consumption. We are consuming this girl consuming. By watching her video we are consuming through her. I for one cannot watch more than 10 seconds of one of these videos. I'm struggling to understand why people are so fascinated by this. I'm guessing her viewers are either young girls who wish to emulate her, young boys who think she is attractive, or older viewers wishing to reclaim their youth. Whoever they are she has turned into a way for many companies to advertise their products for free and she mentions that she now receives many free samples. When it comes down to it, this is just another form of advertising, yet here young girls are being taken advantage of by companies because of their love of consumption. These videos are still weird though...
Monday, April 26, 2010
KFC as Ethical Consumption?

But, what is this odd cross promotion between fried flesh and medical research? EXTREMELY TERRIBLE-FOR-YOU fried flesh, the likes of which have been linked to various cancer risk factors! As the Facebook group entitled "SUSAN G KOMEN 'BUCKETS FOR A CURE?????" EPIC FAIL! SHAME!" reads,
PEOPLE SHOULD BE OUTRAGED! THIS IS NOT ONLY COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE, IT IS SUCH SHAMELESS CORPORATE PANDERING! DO NOT DONATE TO SUSAN G KOMEN UNTIL THEY RETRACT THIS PROGRAM.
BUCKETS of FRIED chicken. BUCKETS. For a CURE. A cure for CANCER. A cure VIA sales of hormone-injected, tortured, processed and deep-fried flesh & fat. Fried BREASTS, even. "Food" that may likely be a CAUSE of breast cancer. SUSAN G KOMEN: FAIL. FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL. SHAME. FAIL. FAIL.
Okay, well, the corporate pandering part...this is not new. All of these charitable cross promotions do this to some extent. Does that mean that they don't believe in the cause? Not necessarily. But you can bet most of them wouldn't be participating if it didn't first and foremost boost their bottom line. Plus, tax credits.
But, the very disconcerting embrace between an organization supposedly committed to both preventative- and treatment-oriented medical advocacy and a corporation that serves as a metonymic index of the grossly misguided health choices frequently made in the United States...these are very strange bedfellows indeed. Or, at least they seem to be on an emotional level. Perhaps they're not so far apart at all. Logistically speaking, the only difference between KFC and the Komen Foundation is a 501(c)3 letter. Certainly we can make distinctions on a mission-based level, but I wonder how much this really ends up mattering with regards to how these brands are run and marketed.

Revised Abstract: Consuming (Real)ity Stardom
While reading everyone's abstracts for the peer-review session during our last class, it occurred to me that my own abstract ("Consuming Celebrity") is probably too broad of a topic to be approached in the final paper. I've narrowed my topic down to reality stardom, and have re-written a new abstract:
Consuming (Real)ity Stardom
The huge success of the reality TV format in the last two decades has revolutionized the parameters of “stardom” to include everyday people plucked from obscurity who have skyrocketed to the celebrity stratosphere. In my paper, I will argue that reality television shows indicate a democratization of previously conceived notions of “stardom,” and that the structural format of these products place heavy emphasis on the consumer as judge of more realistic character archetypes. Ultimately, this phenomenon indicates a devaluation of the scripted narrative in favor of a more (real)istic television format that encourages consumer identification through heavily mediated “authentic” melodrama.
First, I will begin by contextualizing the boom in the reality TV format as a popular form of mass entertainment, in which “real” people are reduced to character archetypes, as first exemplified by “The Real World.” I will compare this to Jib Fowles’ understanding of the “Star Village,” in which celebrities fulfill a societal need for archetypes. The reality format has led to an increase in the number of acceptable “celebrities,” therefore devaluating the term “star.” However, reality stars are also perceived as being more disposable than legitimate actors.
Next, I will consider the structural format of reality TV shows from the perspective of consuming bodies within a specific and fetishized locale. In both “lifestyle” and “competition-based” shows, the overemphasis on people in relation to their location reveals how consumers understand lifestyle as inseparable from environment. From “The Hills” romanticized notion of Hollywood to the myriad of “Survivor” destinations, the body’s relationship to location is of utmost importance. The competitive nature of these shows, in which contestants compete in gladiator-style tests of strength and sexuality, provides rich fodder for the consumer to analyze.
Particularly in competition-based reality programming, the consumer is positioned as both judge and fan. In shows like “American Idol,” the judging of a contestant’s “star quality” is a precursor to active participation by the fan in voting for a favorite. Fans are asked to identify with the judges, and weigh in on a number of factors- from personality, to quality of their work, to their eligibility as a potential mate. This complicates Julie Wilson’s article “Star Testing,” and brings her argument into a context that is not necessarily specific to women, and does not posit such an “idealized” picture of stardom. Instead, the reality star is a more accessible point for testing and self-evaluation.
From this analysis, I will conclude that the reality TV boom may be an indication of growing disinterest in scripted narrative, in favor of a more “real” depiction of melodrama, as lived by everyday people. However, reality TV purposely erases its own construction. By re-interpreting Lynne Joyrich’s article about TV and melodrama, I will argue that the reality television form draws the consumer into a world of stardom that is perceived as being more “real,” and therefore, more authentic.
Consuming (Real)ity Stardom
The huge success of the reality TV format in the last two decades has revolutionized the parameters of “stardom” to include everyday people plucked from obscurity who have skyrocketed to the celebrity stratosphere. In my paper, I will argue that reality television shows indicate a democratization of previously conceived notions of “stardom,” and that the structural format of these products place heavy emphasis on the consumer as judge of more realistic character archetypes. Ultimately, this phenomenon indicates a devaluation of the scripted narrative in favor of a more (real)istic television format that encourages consumer identification through heavily mediated “authentic” melodrama.
First, I will begin by contextualizing the boom in the reality TV format as a popular form of mass entertainment, in which “real” people are reduced to character archetypes, as first exemplified by “The Real World.” I will compare this to Jib Fowles’ understanding of the “Star Village,” in which celebrities fulfill a societal need for archetypes. The reality format has led to an increase in the number of acceptable “celebrities,” therefore devaluating the term “star.” However, reality stars are also perceived as being more disposable than legitimate actors.
Next, I will consider the structural format of reality TV shows from the perspective of consuming bodies within a specific and fetishized locale. In both “lifestyle” and “competition-based” shows, the overemphasis on people in relation to their location reveals how consumers understand lifestyle as inseparable from environment. From “The Hills” romanticized notion of Hollywood to the myriad of “Survivor” destinations, the body’s relationship to location is of utmost importance. The competitive nature of these shows, in which contestants compete in gladiator-style tests of strength and sexuality, provides rich fodder for the consumer to analyze.
Particularly in competition-based reality programming, the consumer is positioned as both judge and fan. In shows like “American Idol,” the judging of a contestant’s “star quality” is a precursor to active participation by the fan in voting for a favorite. Fans are asked to identify with the judges, and weigh in on a number of factors- from personality, to quality of their work, to their eligibility as a potential mate. This complicates Julie Wilson’s article “Star Testing,” and brings her argument into a context that is not necessarily specific to women, and does not posit such an “idealized” picture of stardom. Instead, the reality star is a more accessible point for testing and self-evaluation.
From this analysis, I will conclude that the reality TV boom may be an indication of growing disinterest in scripted narrative, in favor of a more “real” depiction of melodrama, as lived by everyday people. However, reality TV purposely erases its own construction. By re-interpreting Lynne Joyrich’s article about TV and melodrama, I will argue that the reality television form draws the consumer into a world of stardom that is perceived as being more “real,” and therefore, more authentic.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Kick-Ass

Has anybody else seen Kick-Ass yet? Can we not agree that it is the live-action vulgar version of Kung Fu Panda? The feminized fanboy has made yet another appearance in a big Hollywood film. While Kick-Ass goes to great lengths to challenge gender roles (the filthy mouthed, ass-kicking little girl. I am unsure how beneficial this representation even is) the film perpetuates the image of the new male. Within the Kick-Ass diegesis this feminized (I do not mean gendered, but instead disempowered and infantilized) male is a product of a society fully engrossed in youtube, social media, and alternate realities. This movie made me wonder why Hollywood has abandoned the Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger type male figure. Who is the modern day action star? Is the decline of this image not concurrent to the rise of gaming culture and social media? For those of you who have not seen Kick-Ass SPOILER ALERT: The two most aggressive and historically masculine characters are killed by then end of the movie. I am by no means saying one representation is better or more productive than the other, but simply wondering where Rambo went.
And speaking of themes and topics from class being repackaged into new films has anybody seen the trailer for Human Caterpillar? If not, it is the story of tourists being abducted in Germany and instead of being harvested for organs they are turned into a human caterpillar by a mad German scientist.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Revised Abstract: Communist Nostalgia in Hong Kong
I want to use this paper to discuss how consumer products in specifically Hong Kong have reflected a sense of communist nostalgia. I'd like to focus on Hong Kong because it is the only major city in China who has been under capitalist regime for the past century. It is interesting that as Britain returned Hong Kong to China in 1997, more and more marketing and branding efforts have been directed to the imagery of communism instead of colonialism. Using this paper, I would like to justify that there is 1) a sense of disapproval of modernization and rapid change; 2) communist nostalgia has become a global imagery of China; and 3) communist nostalgia reinforces the cultural and historical identity that was lost in Hong Kong during British occupation. Seeing that products in Hong Kong have been using a lot of Shanghai-style images, I would also like to compare Hong Kong and Shanghai, and potentially refers Shanghai as what Frederic Jameson coins as the ‘lost object of desire.’ My main intention is to investigate why Hong Kong, as a capitalist society, chooses to relive communism through consumer products; Especially, I would like to find out, even though very few young Hong Kong-ers have experienced communist doctrines (except those immigrants from Mainland China), why they find communist imagery fascinating and what their views on communism are. In relation to increasing trading and exchanges between Hong Kong and China, I propose that Hong Kong, through the consumption of communist nostalgic, attempts to live through its imagination or memory that was lost during the colonial period.
In terms of structure, I am going to first introduce the socio-political structure of Hong Kong in comparison to Mainland China. Then I would provide some consumer products that try to build on communist nostalgia. Some of the examples I can think of right now are the clothing line “Shanghai Tang” (which mainly sells very oriental looking clothes and accessories to Hong Kong people as well as tourists) and one particular Starbucks coffee shop in Hong Kong (which is decorated to look like old “Bing Sutt” in China - see http://intransit.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/14/a-hong-kong-starbucks-goes-time-traveling/) By looking at these examples, I hope to find commonalities or clues as to why modern Hong Kong is going nostalgic in recent years, and hopefully this will draw to the three arguments I made earlier. Lastly, I would like to conclude on the prediction of Hong Kong’s future as of its relationship with China. As China is gaining more control over Hong Kong, would there be more or less communist nostalgia in the city?
I found an article called "Designer Nostalgia" by Danny Huppatz particularly useful and interesting because it talks about how designers of consumer products have successfully used the element of nostalgia as an investment to local as well as foreign consumers. Also, I would look at “Nostalgia for the Future: The Resurgence of An Alienated Culture in China by Hanchao Lu. In addition, I would research on some Chinese newspaper and magazine articles.
The big picture of this paper is to find out why younger generation has this sudden crave of nostalgia about the past, even though they have never experienced communism or socialism; and how the imagery of China exotica is capitalized by consumer products.
In terms of structure, I am going to first introduce the socio-political structure of Hong Kong in comparison to Mainland China. Then I would provide some consumer products that try to build on communist nostalgia. Some of the examples I can think of right now are the clothing line “Shanghai Tang” (which mainly sells very oriental looking clothes and accessories to Hong Kong people as well as tourists) and one particular Starbucks coffee shop in Hong Kong (which is decorated to look like old “Bing Sutt” in China - see http://intransit.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/14/a-hong-kong-starbucks-goes-time-traveling/) By looking at these examples, I hope to find commonalities or clues as to why modern Hong Kong is going nostalgic in recent years, and hopefully this will draw to the three arguments I made earlier. Lastly, I would like to conclude on the prediction of Hong Kong’s future as of its relationship with China. As China is gaining more control over Hong Kong, would there be more or less communist nostalgia in the city?
I found an article called "Designer Nostalgia" by Danny Huppatz particularly useful and interesting because it talks about how designers of consumer products have successfully used the element of nostalgia as an investment to local as well as foreign consumers. Also, I would look at “Nostalgia for the Future: The Resurgence of An Alienated Culture in China by Hanchao Lu. In addition, I would research on some Chinese newspaper and magazine articles.
The big picture of this paper is to find out why younger generation has this sudden crave of nostalgia about the past, even though they have never experienced communism or socialism; and how the imagery of China exotica is capitalized by consumer products.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Hoop Dreams
I think Hoop Dreams shows a sort of a different way that students, schools and education in general are commodities than was discussed in the readings. Hoop Dreams, which follows the lives of two black high school students in Chicago, really shows how a school uses its students as a commodity to help build its own brand, in this case, the basketball program at St. Joseph's High School but also how the students depend on this in order to get a worthwhile education and be able to make it to the NBA (or first, a division one school.)
The kids, William and Arthur, are found in their respective Chicago neighborhoods by a scout who specifically looks in low income areas for new talent. They are both invited to attend St. Joseph's to join their basketball program, and benefit from an education they will never be able to receive in their own neighborhoods. They both receive financial help but the help they receive is a direct reflection of their basketball skills. William is on the Senior team receives a full ride and is essentially sponsored by a St. Joseph's alumni, a sponsorship set up by the basketball coach who has high hopes for William high school and later professional career (and how this will eventually reflect upon him.) Arthur, on the other hand, is on the Frosh/Soph team and his family has taken out a loan to supplement whatever financial aid he is receiving. At school, Arthur's skills fail to develop at the speed the coach would like (unlike William) and when Arthur's family is unable to keep up with tuition, he is forced to leave.
Both William and Arthur's school careers are dependent on their ability to play basketball and the school's basketball reputation is dependent on it's players abilities and their appeal to division one scouts. The documentary points out, with Arthur's return to public school,how basketball is sort of their only marketable quality and it becomes something they depend on to move up the socioeconomic ladder. Going to public school, this is something I never experienced but the idea of someone's effort and skill being seen as the main ingredient for success is a notion I think most American's are familiar with. I can't remember if it was explicitly stated but the coach suggests that Arthur, because he was not developing athletically as quickly as William was and in essence, he was not worth the investment and no attempt was made on the coach's part to try and find him a "sponsor".
Hoop Dreams, the readings and our discussion in class have shown that education is pretty much always tied to money. Even if you're not paying to go to school, your socioeconomic status and where you live contributes to the education you get. If you're really smart or athletically gifted a school might see you as a worthy investment. I've never heard of a C average, athletically challenged kid from a low income neighborhood receive this kind of opportunity (and I don't think busing really counts.) I guess you could look at "Kung Fu Panda" in this context since Po would probably fall under the c-average, athletically challenged category. I'm usually not one to heavily criticize kid's movies, but in the context of education and opportunity, "Panda" seems to be saying that everyone has equal access to the means of achieving greatness and success. Most of Po's success is achieved through luck or as the turtle guy kept saying, through "fate." I'm sort of conflicted because I keep contradicting myself about what is the right message to send or what the right way to go about creating balance in the education system. Is it better to have access to better educational opportunities because of academic merit and/or athletic skill or just through random selection. and which one is true to real life? I don't know..anyway you look at it, I just see it all coming down to money.
The kids, William and Arthur, are found in their respective Chicago neighborhoods by a scout who specifically looks in low income areas for new talent. They are both invited to attend St. Joseph's to join their basketball program, and benefit from an education they will never be able to receive in their own neighborhoods. They both receive financial help but the help they receive is a direct reflection of their basketball skills. William is on the Senior team receives a full ride and is essentially sponsored by a St. Joseph's alumni, a sponsorship set up by the basketball coach who has high hopes for William high school and later professional career (and how this will eventually reflect upon him.) Arthur, on the other hand, is on the Frosh/Soph team and his family has taken out a loan to supplement whatever financial aid he is receiving. At school, Arthur's skills fail to develop at the speed the coach would like (unlike William) and when Arthur's family is unable to keep up with tuition, he is forced to leave.
Both William and Arthur's school careers are dependent on their ability to play basketball and the school's basketball reputation is dependent on it's players abilities and their appeal to division one scouts. The documentary points out, with Arthur's return to public school,how basketball is sort of their only marketable quality and it becomes something they depend on to move up the socioeconomic ladder. Going to public school, this is something I never experienced but the idea of someone's effort and skill being seen as the main ingredient for success is a notion I think most American's are familiar with. I can't remember if it was explicitly stated but the coach suggests that Arthur, because he was not developing athletically as quickly as William was and in essence, he was not worth the investment and no attempt was made on the coach's part to try and find him a "sponsor".
Hoop Dreams, the readings and our discussion in class have shown that education is pretty much always tied to money. Even if you're not paying to go to school, your socioeconomic status and where you live contributes to the education you get. If you're really smart or athletically gifted a school might see you as a worthy investment. I've never heard of a C average, athletically challenged kid from a low income neighborhood receive this kind of opportunity (and I don't think busing really counts.) I guess you could look at "Kung Fu Panda" in this context since Po would probably fall under the c-average, athletically challenged category. I'm usually not one to heavily criticize kid's movies, but in the context of education and opportunity, "Panda" seems to be saying that everyone has equal access to the means of achieving greatness and success. Most of Po's success is achieved through luck or as the turtle guy kept saying, through "fate." I'm sort of conflicted because I keep contradicting myself about what is the right message to send or what the right way to go about creating balance in the education system. Is it better to have access to better educational opportunities because of academic merit and/or athletic skill or just through random selection. and which one is true to real life? I don't know..anyway you look at it, I just see it all coming down to money.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Yu-Gi-Oh! and 4Kids
I'm sure a few people in the class who know me/know what I've written about in the past will find this no surprise, but I think something that's really important in the discussion that is somewhat glossed over in the reading is the role of distributors/licensors like 4Kids play in determining the content and quality of kids entertainment (Seiter references 4Kids, who brought Pokemon into the US). This discussion spans a few of our classes - but particularly in fan made media and children's media.
To be fair, this is not entirely written for this class - it's a paper I wrote for another class that I edited to fit into this post. But I think it's interesting and a side of children's media that is pretty important.
So, in 2006, two years after the end of Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters, a YouTube user known as LittleKuriboh (LK) uploaded a parodic version of the first episode called “Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series – Episode 1.” In it, he takes the first episode of the series, adds more ellipses to the narrative, and re-records the dialogue to bring out different reactions to the same scenarios.
A large part of LK’s critique of 4Kids comes through the presentation of edited/censored moments. The best example of this is based off of a portion of episode 8 in the original series, where two goons try to kidnap Kaiba. In the scene, they point their fingers at him for a long time, threatening him about what will happen if he does not come quietly. In the abridged version, one of the goons says, “Don’t move a muscle or we’ll shoot you with our invisible guns,” referencing the editing done by 4Kids, as in the original version, both the goons are pointing pistols, not fingers, at Kaiba. The different versions are visible within the video below:
By referencing this alteration through the idea of invisible guns, the censorship performed by 4Kids is clearly highlighted, and the parody points out the break of narrative logic that accompanies the change – there is no dramatic tension caused by a pointer finger, and there certainly seems to be no reason Kaiba would go with them peacefully. The same technique is used at other censored moments, such as the alteration of a Marik’s character motivation from wanting to kill Yugi because he thinks Yugi murdered his father to generically wanting to take over the world. While these moments may be understandably edited to make the show more “kid friendly,” many other edits simply erase character motivation. Joey, for example, is turned into a general sidekick who just wants to help Yugi, rather than another duelist who has his own dreams of becoming a good enough duelist to earn the right to face Yugi. Either way, the argument stemming from LK’s critique is that the way these alterations took place removes any narrative tension and changes unique characters into generic caricatures, turning what was a quality show into something that seems to be comprised of moments of potential mockery.[4] He makes this criticism especially clear through Pegasus’ explanation of his card, Toon World, saying, “Toon World allows me to turn your monsters into cheap imitations – kind of like what 4Kids did to this show.”
By attacking the decisions of the distributor, LK implies an opposition that exists between the fans and the distributor. As Jenkins puts it, “The history of media fandom is at least in part the history of a series of organized efforts to influence programming decisions” (Textual Poachers 28). While his analysis relates to producers of a text and organized efforts, the idea is still the same: almost every fandom is involved in a struggle with those who hold copyright control about the way a text is presented. And this relationship, he notes, “is not always a happy or comfortable one and is often charged with mutual suspicion, if not open conflict (32). Such is certainly the case with Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series, where LK openly criticizes the way 4Kids has translated the text, going so far as to present 4Kids as the evil empire.
At the same time, there are a few key differences between a fan/distributor and fan/producer relationship. The common defense that “fan efforts to protect favorite aspects of fictional texts infringe upon the producer’s creative freedom” (Jenkins 30), for example, does not apply. Instead, this claim is reversed: LK is claiming that 4Kids infringed on what the producer created. Further, unlike fans who are trying to protect certain aspects, LK is not arguing about how production should be carried out – rather, he is arguing that the material as it was originally published should have been kept intact. Indeed, unlike for producers who are still creating material or trying to prevent new material from becoming canonical, 4Kids already had the show – they had to make a proactive decision to change it from what the producer wanted. It seems, then, that 4Kids’ translation (both in the linguistic and adaptive sense) decisions were in an attempt to get the widest possible audience through strict adherence to the standard of “kid friendly content” that is implied by the company’s name. This does, however, seem to ultimately be part of LK’s critique of 4Kids’ translation – to make the show meet 4Kids’ standards, they simply removed the content they objected to without paying close attention to how it affected the plot’s coherency or the characters’ complexity.
There's a lot more to this paper, but this is the most germane section (edited for this class, of course).
To be fair, this is not entirely written for this class - it's a paper I wrote for another class that I edited to fit into this post. But I think it's interesting and a side of children's media that is pretty important.
So, in 2006, two years after the end of Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters, a YouTube user known as LittleKuriboh (LK) uploaded a parodic version of the first episode called “Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series – Episode 1.” In it, he takes the first episode of the series, adds more ellipses to the narrative, and re-records the dialogue to bring out different reactions to the same scenarios.
A large part of LK’s critique of 4Kids comes through the presentation of edited/censored moments. The best example of this is based off of a portion of episode 8 in the original series, where two goons try to kidnap Kaiba. In the scene, they point their fingers at him for a long time, threatening him about what will happen if he does not come quietly. In the abridged version, one of the goons says, “Don’t move a muscle or we’ll shoot you with our invisible guns,” referencing the editing done by 4Kids, as in the original version, both the goons are pointing pistols, not fingers, at Kaiba. The different versions are visible within the video below:
By referencing this alteration through the idea of invisible guns, the censorship performed by 4Kids is clearly highlighted, and the parody points out the break of narrative logic that accompanies the change – there is no dramatic tension caused by a pointer finger, and there certainly seems to be no reason Kaiba would go with them peacefully. The same technique is used at other censored moments, such as the alteration of a Marik’s character motivation from wanting to kill Yugi because he thinks Yugi murdered his father to generically wanting to take over the world. While these moments may be understandably edited to make the show more “kid friendly,” many other edits simply erase character motivation. Joey, for example, is turned into a general sidekick who just wants to help Yugi, rather than another duelist who has his own dreams of becoming a good enough duelist to earn the right to face Yugi. Either way, the argument stemming from LK’s critique is that the way these alterations took place removes any narrative tension and changes unique characters into generic caricatures, turning what was a quality show into something that seems to be comprised of moments of potential mockery.[4] He makes this criticism especially clear through Pegasus’ explanation of his card, Toon World, saying, “Toon World allows me to turn your monsters into cheap imitations – kind of like what 4Kids did to this show.”
By attacking the decisions of the distributor, LK implies an opposition that exists between the fans and the distributor. As Jenkins puts it, “The history of media fandom is at least in part the history of a series of organized efforts to influence programming decisions” (Textual Poachers 28). While his analysis relates to producers of a text and organized efforts, the idea is still the same: almost every fandom is involved in a struggle with those who hold copyright control about the way a text is presented. And this relationship, he notes, “is not always a happy or comfortable one and is often charged with mutual suspicion, if not open conflict (32). Such is certainly the case with Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series, where LK openly criticizes the way 4Kids has translated the text, going so far as to present 4Kids as the evil empire.
At the same time, there are a few key differences between a fan/distributor and fan/producer relationship. The common defense that “fan efforts to protect favorite aspects of fictional texts infringe upon the producer’s creative freedom” (Jenkins 30), for example, does not apply. Instead, this claim is reversed: LK is claiming that 4Kids infringed on what the producer created. Further, unlike fans who are trying to protect certain aspects, LK is not arguing about how production should be carried out – rather, he is arguing that the material as it was originally published should have been kept intact. Indeed, unlike for producers who are still creating material or trying to prevent new material from becoming canonical, 4Kids already had the show – they had to make a proactive decision to change it from what the producer wanted. It seems, then, that 4Kids’ translation (both in the linguistic and adaptive sense) decisions were in an attempt to get the widest possible audience through strict adherence to the standard of “kid friendly content” that is implied by the company’s name. This does, however, seem to ultimately be part of LK’s critique of 4Kids’ translation – to make the show meet 4Kids’ standards, they simply removed the content they objected to without paying close attention to how it affected the plot’s coherency or the characters’ complexity.
There's a lot more to this paper, but this is the most germane section (edited for this class, of course).
Transborder Immigration Tool
This mobile phone application garnered a lot of controversy in the press during the earlier parts of this year as a GPS-location tool that helps Mexican immigrants cross the US-Mexico border safely and more successfully. Created by Professor Ricardo Dominguez at UCSD's calit2lab, the tool is implemented on old smart phones distributed to families in key Mexican cities and allows its users to connect with their families and certain "safe points" along the way, as well as to locate water. Professor Dominguez is currently being threatened with criminal action and revocation of his tenure by both the UC Office of the President and UCSD.
I think the controversy is germane to our course on a number of levels. In our discussions surrounding globalization, diaspora, and citizenship, it is clear that movement and travel is not always a privilege, but is often a matter of survival, as Zygmunt Bauman's notion of the "vagabond" has taught us. I am also reminded of Marita Sturken's arguments concerning the post-9/11 anxiety surrounding the crossing of borders and the reactionary movement to solidify a more tightly bounded nation. Specifically with regards to this app, vigilante militias that have taken to policing the border themselves have even threatened to build their own smart phone application that users can implement to more efficiently track and report immigrants crossing the border.
Of course, I think that we can also perhaps draw some parallels with Nick Couldry's arguments about information technologies and the ways in which they can help to catalyze grassroots forms of networked citizenship and activism. While this app isn't exactly in accordance with Couldry's model of public discourse online, and doesn't necessarily invoke any connection to consumption, the affordances of mobile phone technology are definitely used to create what he would call localized forms of "public connection." For all of my pessimism surrounding fandom that I've unleashed on the class in the past couple weeks (apologies!), I'm definitely glad to report on a "social networking" application that doesn't involve banner ads and Farmville.
Home Page
More news on protests surrounding the tool
(You can also sign the petition here, if you so choose).
I think the controversy is germane to our course on a number of levels. In our discussions surrounding globalization, diaspora, and citizenship, it is clear that movement and travel is not always a privilege, but is often a matter of survival, as Zygmunt Bauman's notion of the "vagabond" has taught us. I am also reminded of Marita Sturken's arguments concerning the post-9/11 anxiety surrounding the crossing of borders and the reactionary movement to solidify a more tightly bounded nation. Specifically with regards to this app, vigilante militias that have taken to policing the border themselves have even threatened to build their own smart phone application that users can implement to more efficiently track and report immigrants crossing the border.
Of course, I think that we can also perhaps draw some parallels with Nick Couldry's arguments about information technologies and the ways in which they can help to catalyze grassroots forms of networked citizenship and activism. While this app isn't exactly in accordance with Couldry's model of public discourse online, and doesn't necessarily invoke any connection to consumption, the affordances of mobile phone technology are definitely used to create what he would call localized forms of "public connection." For all of my pessimism surrounding fandom that I've unleashed on the class in the past couple weeks (apologies!), I'm definitely glad to report on a "social networking" application that doesn't involve banner ads and Farmville.
Home Page
More news on protests surrounding the tool
(You can also sign the petition here, if you so choose).
Monday, April 12, 2010
Wall-E, Idiocracy and Kung Fu Panda
We watched Wall-E in another class today and I was struck by how much it reminded me of Mike Judge's Idiocracy. The entire film seethes with an anti-corporate (particularly megastores) message present in images like the CEO of global giant BuyNLarge appearing at a presidential-style podium marked with the title "global CEO." This, and the way that humanity's "salvation" from the polluted world came from the megastore instead of the government reminded me of the scene with the Brawndo executive meeting with the president in Idiocracy. The very title "global CEO" is incredibly loaded considering our discussion of neoliberalism and globalization. Other criticisms in Wall-E that I found particularly salient include the image of children being taught the alphabet with corporate logos--which I think is especially relevant to Naomi Klein's research--and the repeated promise both that the consumer world of BuyNLarge that people are literally born into has "everything you need to be happy" and "is your friend." I found it funny that I was almost cheering for the evil ship's computer in Wall-E, simply because its picture of American big box consumerism as evolution and of a global environmental disaster was so bleak that I thought any return home by the former earthlings would realistically lead to disaster. In a similar way, I really wanted Joe to find a way home at the end of Idiocracy, just because Judge's image of the future was so bleak. I'm not sure about the message of Idiocracy (I think Judge is very confused, as we've talked about), but Wall-E's pro-environment message is very clear and oversimplified for consumption by children: plant a tree and save the world. This message was cause for a lot of quasi-critical debate over whether or not the film is "liberal" or "conservative" which, to use a wonderful idiom I just acquired, is a whole different kettle of fish.
This is possibly completely irrelevant, but I loved the scene where the ship's captain uses the computer's log to search for random bits of information about earth--it reminded me a lot of the frenzy of trivia acquirement that can happen when you are bored and on Wikipedia.
Also, the way Wall-E used a very pastiche-heavy sci-fi visual language reminded me a lot of Kung Fu Panda. Both films train children as viewers in a very postmodern way, instilling film styles and references implicitly. Wall-E is replete with references to Stanley Kubrick's 2001 (and other films, as director Andrew Stanton has stated in interviews)and to classical musicals. Kung Fu Panda is really interesting in how it repackages Asian kung fu cliches for American children much in the same way that the Wachowski Brothers' Matrix trilogy did for young adults. It is essentially presenting an entire visual language of a niche foreign cinema filtered through the lens of an American movie for children. I wonder how kids react to the different visual languages presented in actual foreign TV shows rebranded by Cartoon Network like Naruto or (from our youths) Dragonball Z.
This is possibly completely irrelevant, but I loved the scene where the ship's captain uses the computer's log to search for random bits of information about earth--it reminded me a lot of the frenzy of trivia acquirement that can happen when you are bored and on Wikipedia.
Also, the way Wall-E used a very pastiche-heavy sci-fi visual language reminded me a lot of Kung Fu Panda. Both films train children as viewers in a very postmodern way, instilling film styles and references implicitly. Wall-E is replete with references to Stanley Kubrick's 2001 (and other films, as director Andrew Stanton has stated in interviews)and to classical musicals. Kung Fu Panda is really interesting in how it repackages Asian kung fu cliches for American children much in the same way that the Wachowski Brothers' Matrix trilogy did for young adults. It is essentially presenting an entire visual language of a niche foreign cinema filtered through the lens of an American movie for children. I wonder how kids react to the different visual languages presented in actual foreign TV shows rebranded by Cartoon Network like Naruto or (from our youths) Dragonball Z.
Kid-Owe
The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
www.colbertnation.com | ||||
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I think this video beautifully illustrates a number of themes from Ellen Seiter’s work on Neopets, as well as a number of tropes that have cropped up in relation to consumerism in video games (particularly those online). First off, I think Colbert’s video demonstrates just how effective online games can be in not only “training” children to be model consumers, but in engaging them, perhaps unknowingly, in real acts of consumption. Although using real money to buy virtual products may seem like an absurd proposition to the majority of the population, such practices already exist in a number of Massively Multiplayer Online Games (MMOGs). For instance, in the MMO environment of Linden Lab’s Second Life (2003), player Anshe Chung was able to make a net profit of over one million dollars selling virtual real estate.
I guess my problem is not so much that virtual consumption exists in general. I just feel that developers have crossed a line when the game mechanic rewards real life consumption over devoted or skilled game play, as in Seiter’s example concerning the massive amount of points culled from completing consumer surveys over completing tasks within the Neopets game. I also think it is particularly insidious when real money must be used to buy virtual products like food or medicine that are specifically able to be “used up.” It’s particularly interesting to think about these sort of transactions from a business perspective, because these items cost nothing to (re)produce and must be bought again and again by the player in order to facilitate sustained game play.
I’m also curious as to whether the advertisement that Seiter talks about in Neopets is a phenomenon particular to online games rather than those made for domestic consoles. As Cynthia Meyers wrote about in her essay “From Sponsorship to Spots: Advertising and the Development of Electronic Media” in relation to television, contemporary services such as DVR and user viewing habits online have made it increasingly easy for consumers to skip watching 30 second spots, forcing product placement within the entertainment text to re-emerge as viable marketing strategies. If we extrapolate Meyer's observation to the online gaming market and debates surrounding banner advertisement vs. "immersive advertising," such a trajectory may have made it more necessary for online game companies to insert advertising into actual game play, but as Seiter points out, this practice makes it increasingly difficult for children to discern content from advertisement. Within console games, I know that players have responded rather unfavorably to games which blatantly try to insert advertisement into the game play mechanic, particularly when the advertisement disrupts the fidelity of the diegetic world (as in fantasy games). The only type of advertising that doesn’t seem to bother players that much is that in racing or sports games, which feature advertisement along the lines of the walls of stadiums (simulating the practice that exists in physical reality).
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
For not having heard of this movie before, I see it everywhere now. Consider the freshly published article I've just posted on Blackboard. (I don't know how to attach pdfs here.) Grateful to Jason for bringing the film to my attention!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A few after thoughts
A lot of things about this week's readings interested me, especially in the context of my paper that is fairly well related to citizenship and consumption, and here are a few thoughts I had after class.
First of all, to give a sense of what I mean about the actual acts of war becoming similar themselves to games (such that rather than killing a person, it's more like playing a game where you kill dots on a screen), I would refer to The Gulf War Did Not Take Place. But in terms of an creative text dealing with it, I would refer in print to Ender's Game and on film to Oshii Mamoru's Patlabor 2, which deals really explicitly with the idea of mediated experience supplanting real interaction in a fairly fascinating way (largely because it's an anime film, and as a result, the portions that present the sections that in the film world are false actually look more realistic than the world itself). You can get an idea of the film from the opening (which presents multiple takes on this sensory enhancing/replacing technology) here:
First part of the opening
Second part of the opening
More directly related on the idea of citizenship, belief systems, and the like as part of consumerism - a couple of notes.
First, I think the centrality of consumerism to many people's lives makes it clearly an important portion of what it is to be a citizen - particularly in certain places (Goodbye Lenin makes it seem like what is being consumed is a pretty key part of identifying with a particular political faction). The film I kept thinking of was Czech Dream, a documentary piece by two film students about their creation of a faux hyper mart - from the marketing campaign up until the false storefront opened to a giant crowd of people.
Second, the idea of lifestyle activism. This is a really fairly poorly written article (largely in that it makes a lot of assumptions about the way people relate to the products they consume), but I think a lot of the points it brings up are interesting because they deal dirrectly with the notion that what you buy is how you contribute to political discussions.
http://www.openleft.com/diary/13032/selfdelusion-and-the-lie-of-lifestyle-politics-core-dilemmas-of-community-organizing
First of all, to give a sense of what I mean about the actual acts of war becoming similar themselves to games (such that rather than killing a person, it's more like playing a game where you kill dots on a screen), I would refer to The Gulf War Did Not Take Place. But in terms of an creative text dealing with it, I would refer in print to Ender's Game and on film to Oshii Mamoru's Patlabor 2, which deals really explicitly with the idea of mediated experience supplanting real interaction in a fairly fascinating way (largely because it's an anime film, and as a result, the portions that present the sections that in the film world are false actually look more realistic than the world itself). You can get an idea of the film from the opening (which presents multiple takes on this sensory enhancing/replacing technology) here:
First part of the opening
Second part of the opening
More directly related on the idea of citizenship, belief systems, and the like as part of consumerism - a couple of notes.
First, I think the centrality of consumerism to many people's lives makes it clearly an important portion of what it is to be a citizen - particularly in certain places (Goodbye Lenin makes it seem like what is being consumed is a pretty key part of identifying with a particular political faction). The film I kept thinking of was Czech Dream, a documentary piece by two film students about their creation of a faux hyper mart - from the marketing campaign up until the false storefront opened to a giant crowd of people.
Second, the idea of lifestyle activism. This is a really fairly poorly written article (largely in that it makes a lot of assumptions about the way people relate to the products they consume), but I think a lot of the points it brings up are interesting because they deal dirrectly with the notion that what you buy is how you contribute to political discussions.
http://www.openleft.com/diary/13032/selfdelusion-and-the-lie-of-lifestyle-politics-core-dilemmas-of-community-organizing
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
...
I think Idiocracy and this week’s readings made it pretty clear that America and what it is to be American is defined by the ways we consume. The “American lifestyle” has been a draw for many people to come here and I feel like the way that people consume in America signifies their level of “American-ness” as well as their place in the hierarchy of race and class. “Neoliberal Citizenship” definitely touches on this, but I am curious about the exact ways we are expected to consume in order to be American.
I may be reading too much into it, but Idiocracy seemed to suggest that the modes of consumption that became the standard for America after a couple hundred years of devolution in the film encouraged the subordination of women (it seemed like every woman was only a sexual object.) The film closely/explicitly links the “idiot” Americans to inner city ethnic groups (everyone speaks in ebonics) as well as white trash. The film definitely offers a critique of the upper class but it is still suggested that if the upper class were to procreate the way the lower class did, America would be in a much better place. I see this association of the idiots with the lower class and certain groups in America as really problematic. Everything went to hell in the film when only the “lower class” reproduced, but I felt like the film points the finger at the lower class as if it were in their nature to behave the way they do, not the product of any sort of hierarchy or system in America that benefits from the lower classes lack of access to certain things that the middle or upper class has the means to consume. Although the film does criticize corporations and the media in the stupefying of America, it also points at the idea that these people are poor and in a crappy situation because they are lazy and stupid, which has been the justification for why certain people are in power and others are not (ie: for colonialism.) The future in the film is depicted like the third world and the humor relies on the idea of looking at these people as backwards people who don’t know what is good for them. They need someone who knows what is best to take over and fix all their problems. Granted, as it is depicted in the film, this is true, however the images and the tropes that the film relies on ignores many of the realities of issues of colonialism in th third world and issues of class and race hierarchy in the US. I don’t know if anyone else had a similar reading…
I may be reading too much into it, but Idiocracy seemed to suggest that the modes of consumption that became the standard for America after a couple hundred years of devolution in the film encouraged the subordination of women (it seemed like every woman was only a sexual object.) The film closely/explicitly links the “idiot” Americans to inner city ethnic groups (everyone speaks in ebonics) as well as white trash. The film definitely offers a critique of the upper class but it is still suggested that if the upper class were to procreate the way the lower class did, America would be in a much better place. I see this association of the idiots with the lower class and certain groups in America as really problematic. Everything went to hell in the film when only the “lower class” reproduced, but I felt like the film points the finger at the lower class as if it were in their nature to behave the way they do, not the product of any sort of hierarchy or system in America that benefits from the lower classes lack of access to certain things that the middle or upper class has the means to consume. Although the film does criticize corporations and the media in the stupefying of America, it also points at the idea that these people are poor and in a crappy situation because they are lazy and stupid, which has been the justification for why certain people are in power and others are not (ie: for colonialism.) The future in the film is depicted like the third world and the humor relies on the idea of looking at these people as backwards people who don’t know what is good for them. They need someone who knows what is best to take over and fix all their problems. Granted, as it is depicted in the film, this is true, however the images and the tropes that the film relies on ignores many of the realities of issues of colonialism in th third world and issues of class and race hierarchy in the US. I don’t know if anyone else had a similar reading…
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Last Airbender and Race Politics
Asia Pacific Arts, a webmagazine I write for, recently covered the backlash in the Asian American community to the casting of white actors to play Asian roles in M. Night Shyamalan's upcoming adaptation of Nickelodeon's Avatar: The Last Airbender. The three main characters, ambiguously Asian in the original animated series, were recast with white actors by Shyamalan and Paramount, which has a recent history of such decisions. This is a perfect example of the war in Hollywood between the liberal multicultural impulse (that often seems in name only) and the much more dominant profit-based desire to present more "palatable" (white) images to the white American majority. In American cultural politics, especially in the film industry, it often feels like we are stuck in the 1950s. I liked Pixar's inclusion of an ambiguously Asian main character in Up, particularly how it was a non-issue in cinematic-cultural discourse (except among my Asian friends distressed at how overweight poor Russell was).
On the subject of the casting, Roger Ebert wrote "The original series Avatar: The Last Airbender was highly regarded and popular for three seasons on Nickelodeon. Its fans take it for granted that its heroes are Asian. Why would Paramount and Shyamalan go out of their way to offend these fans? There are many young Asian actors capable of playing the parts." It is interesting (though not surprising) that Shyamalan, who identifies as an Indian-American director, would go so far to defend his/Paramount's actions, arguing in the LA Times that "The great thing about anime is that it's ambiguous. The features of the characters are an intentional mix of all features. It's intended to be ambiguous." This is the same logic that led to the controversial casting of a white actor as Japanese anime icon Goku in the execrable Dragonball: Evolution movie. One of the only major "Asians" of any background in the cast is British-Indian Dev Patel of Slumdog Millionaire, whose presence in that film and in British soaps will no doubt make him more palatable to western audiences.
For more information on the building protest check out racebending.com. They held a screening of a documentary called "Yellowface" about this and other related controversies tonight but if you're interested you can probably track it down.
On a relatively unrelated note, here's a link to a piece of video art by a student in Jason and my Video Game Theories class. It's a thoughtful/hilarious criticism of the way American Apparel objectifies women in their ads.
http://scf.usc.edu/~sennache
On the subject of the casting, Roger Ebert wrote "The original series Avatar: The Last Airbender was highly regarded and popular for three seasons on Nickelodeon. Its fans take it for granted that its heroes are Asian. Why would Paramount and Shyamalan go out of their way to offend these fans? There are many young Asian actors capable of playing the parts." It is interesting (though not surprising) that Shyamalan, who identifies as an Indian-American director, would go so far to defend his/Paramount's actions, arguing in the LA Times that "The great thing about anime is that it's ambiguous. The features of the characters are an intentional mix of all features. It's intended to be ambiguous." This is the same logic that led to the controversial casting of a white actor as Japanese anime icon Goku in the execrable Dragonball: Evolution movie. One of the only major "Asians" of any background in the cast is British-Indian Dev Patel of Slumdog Millionaire, whose presence in that film and in British soaps will no doubt make him more palatable to western audiences.
For more information on the building protest check out racebending.com. They held a screening of a documentary called "Yellowface" about this and other related controversies tonight but if you're interested you can probably track it down.
On a relatively unrelated note, here's a link to a piece of video art by a student in Jason and my Video Game Theories class. It's a thoughtful/hilarious criticism of the way American Apparel objectifies women in their ads.
http://scf.usc.edu/~sennache
Monday, April 5, 2010
Museum of Sex
Huyssens essay deals with our obsession with the past and preserving the past. This brought to mind the many strange museums in existence, most memorializing obscure objects that are really just a waste of someones (the taxpayers'? money). Yet maybe the Hobo Museum in Iowa and the Ventriloquist Museum in Kentucky are educational experiences, after all isn't all knowledge good knowledge? Nevertheless, Huyssen spends ample time discussing the controversies that arise over the preservation of Holocaust history which some believe to be a commodification and exploitation of a horrific event, thus perhaps lessening the strength of its terribleness. But what effects do museums have on the objects they collect? When memorializing less serious objects, they definitely celebrate and give undeserved significance to things that are at best questionable in their importance in society.
SEX
Is that not everyone's favorite topic? Now I don't think anybody really questions the history of sex. But if there is a museum dedicated to Spam why not a Museum of Sex? The museum opened in 2002 and continues to exist. I had the pleasure of visiting the museum (located in NYC coincidentally almost down the street from my home) in 2006. So if the museum isn't teaching the history of sex, what is its purpose and what does it aim to teach? According to the museum's website: "From fine art to historical ephemera to film, the Museum of Sex preserves an ever-growing collection of sexually related objects that would otherwise be destroyed and discarded due to their sexual content."
Despite the site's proclaims of critical adulation, when it first opened, most reviews professed the attitude of "so what?"
From looking at the website it is clear the museum remains the same as it was when I went there except for the temporary addition of a history of condoms. In reference to this exhibition the website read, "Simultaneously lauded for its ability to combat the transmission of deadly diseases while also condemned by some for its contraceptive qualities, the condom has become the fore runner in moral debates regarding contraception and protection." I'm fairly certain in the year 2010 this statement hardly rings true for most of America.
I'm not here to offer my review of the museum, but I will say it was extremely boring. I found its boringness extremely ironic for obvious reasons. It basically consisted of a room of pornographic videos and a display case of sex toys. This is neither controversial, groundbreaking, nor revolutionary.
The curators of the museum have attempted to add historical and political weight to the most popular act in the history of the world purely for economic gains. But with the internet, it is virtually impossible for the museum to offer anything new or innovative. Though sex sells, they forgot that (most) don't have to pay for sex. I think one of the reasons they failed (even though it still exists I can guarantee you that it is not as profitable as they would) is because they tried to sell something that is free. Additionally, sex is not going anywhere and to my knowledge it has been practiced the same way for centuries. Although the concept in it of itself is interesting, I struggle to think of something less deserving of a museum.
I'm curious if anyone else is able to find the cultural significance of this museum.
Website: http://www.museumofsex.com/
Immigrant Identity and Citizenship of Chinese American
Both Transnational America by Grewal and Kaplan, and Toby Miller's What is Cultural Citizenship? talk about how identity can be shaped not only by geography, but also by culture. While geopolitics is certainly an important factor in determining what a person is, culture more often is the causal factor of who we are. Say for example, as a Hong Kong-er, I can very easily distinguish a Korean from a Japanese, not because of the way they look or the citizenship they hold, but from the way they act - the cultural upbringings and our backgrounds almost always tell more than the place we live in.
While reading these two chapters, I can't help but relate to the movie Joy Luck Club. Perhaps because I am a Hong Kong-er, I have a great degree of emotional attachment to this movie and I felt that this movie speaks to a lot of the issues mentioned in the readings. Joy Luck Club is told from the narrative of Jing Mei, the daughter of a Chinese woman who immigrated to America in the 50s. As her mother died, Jing Mei, through talking with her mother's friend (who are also Chinese immigrants), explored her identity as a Chinese American. Born and raised in the United States, Jing Mei does not know how to speak Chinese, nor has she ever considered herself a Chinese, until she finds out more about her mother from old letters and her mother's old friends. Ultimately, Jing Mei goes on a journey to China and look for her heritage and identity. Throughout the movie, the four characters express a sense of anxiety over their cultural identities, most deny their Chinese heritage with their American surroundings. The mothers of the four daughters also show a sense of fear, as to how America has changed them throughout the year.
More interestingly, Joy Luck Club is narrated solely from a feminist perspective. The four daughters, in parallel to their mothers, provide a framework for us to study governmentality and citizenship beyond ethnic terms. As Grewal and Kaplan conclude in the chapter, it is hard to remain objective to the issue of citizenship. Therefore, I found the ending of Joy Luck Club particularly thought-provoking:
There is no such thing as a pure state of being Chinese, a pure state of being American; all individuals are amalgams of their unique tastes, habits, hopes, and memories. For immigrants and their families, the contrasts within this amalgam can bring particular pain as well as particular richness.
While reading these two chapters, I can't help but relate to the movie Joy Luck Club. Perhaps because I am a Hong Kong-er, I have a great degree of emotional attachment to this movie and I felt that this movie speaks to a lot of the issues mentioned in the readings. Joy Luck Club is told from the narrative of Jing Mei, the daughter of a Chinese woman who immigrated to America in the 50s. As her mother died, Jing Mei, through talking with her mother's friend (who are also Chinese immigrants), explored her identity as a Chinese American. Born and raised in the United States, Jing Mei does not know how to speak Chinese, nor has she ever considered herself a Chinese, until she finds out more about her mother from old letters and her mother's old friends. Ultimately, Jing Mei goes on a journey to China and look for her heritage and identity. Throughout the movie, the four characters express a sense of anxiety over their cultural identities, most deny their Chinese heritage with their American surroundings. The mothers of the four daughters also show a sense of fear, as to how America has changed them throughout the year.
More interestingly, Joy Luck Club is narrated solely from a feminist perspective. The four daughters, in parallel to their mothers, provide a framework for us to study governmentality and citizenship beyond ethnic terms. As Grewal and Kaplan conclude in the chapter, it is hard to remain objective to the issue of citizenship. Therefore, I found the ending of Joy Luck Club particularly thought-provoking:
There is no such thing as a pure state of being Chinese, a pure state of being American; all individuals are amalgams of their unique tastes, habits, hopes, and memories. For immigrants and their families, the contrasts within this amalgam can bring particular pain as well as particular richness.
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