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Not sure if anyone still reads this, but I came across an article today that ties a lot of stuff together.

Apparently Kent State (home to the infamous shootings in 1970) is studying the language of telecommunication (text messages, IMs, blogs, Facebook, etc.) as a form separate from English. Reminds me of when they started teaching ebonics in Oakland. Anyway, whereas ebonics is primarily a spoken language, I think apart from those Cingular commercials (TISNF), the language of IMs is exclusively a written language. Relatedly, the article refers to modern technologies like the cell phone and internet applications like Facebook or Myspace as writing technologies. It almost makes sense, given the exponentially shrinking time between writing technologies (codex to printing press to typewriter to computer and on) that we could be approaching a new episteme.

On the other hand, I don’t agree that text-speak is a different entity from English, and studying it as such separates it from the oral/imaginary, in a time where it seems we are actually trying to return to the imaginary. And those writing technologies are actually just new uses of old ones (the phone and the computer–although interestingly, Steve Jobs (Apple) is the man behind popular versions of both). But regardless, it’s quite an interesting development in print study.

Lastly, I never really had a reason to post about this, but the other day I was reminded that “please” is often called “the magic word.” I’m not sure what that means, but someone else may have something to say about it

–Brandon

I’ve admitted on this site that I was wrong about HRC. I read the cultural unconscious correctly, picking up the symptoms of an emergent psychosis desperately in need of a little down time with the Maternal/Imaginary; I read the candidates themselves incorrectly by falling into the oldest form of lazy-think possible. I assumed that biology is destiny, that the male candidate was “stintin’” for the symbolic, and that the female candidate was advocating on behalf of the Imaginary. But, as I have begun to suggest in recent postings, the Barackster is the woman running for president this year, and Hillarious is the Man. (McCain is playing the role of Skeletor.) How pleased I was therefore to read Maureen Dowd’s op-ed column today because she — a magical thinker who has frequently sounded out some of the oedipal, patriarchal unconscious structures that are shaping current events — clearly sees who is trying to wear the pants in the democratic primary. As Dowd makes clear in the article below, Mrs. Dad is doing increasingly un-maternal things to try to get herself elected, even if it includes scaring the PJs off of little kids. In short, Mrs. Dad is quickly becoming the anti-imaginary/maternal candidate, or as Dowd puts it, touching upon another point i made in a previous post about the emergence of the monstrous mother figure, “an Andrea Yates-looking mother who’s creeping up on the sleeping babes in the dark.” But what would we expect from a candidate whose chief political strategists is named “Mark Penn,” i.e., “to mark something” and “a technology used for writing.”

Thinking magically with my ears here in this context, might it be possible that Barack is doing so well in the primaries not because his last name sounds so much like “Osama,” as many have pointed out, but rather because it sounds so much like “Momma” ?

Viva la differance!!!

March 2, 2008
OP-ED COLUMNIST
A Wake-Up Call for Hillary

By MAUREEN DOWD
SAN ANTONIO

Channeling her inner Cheney, Hillary Clinton dropped a fear bomb, as Michelle Obama might call it, implying in a new ad that if her opponent is elected, your angelic, innocent, sleeping children could die in a terrorist attack.

Only she has the wise head to go nuclear, should that Strangelovian phone call from a power-mad Putin come into the White House at 3 a.m. Her ad shows how composed she would be at the dread moment when she picks up the phone. Her nuke look is feminine, in a tailored camel-colored jacket and gold necklace, yet serious, in Tina Fey black reading glasses.

It’s hard to discern the message of the ad. The scariest thing is not the persistently ringing phone but an Andrea Yates-looking mother who’s creeping up on the sleeping babes in the dark. The point can’t be that Hillary is superior to Obama in international crisis management, because she’s done no more of it than he has. She’s only done domestic crisis management, cleaning up after Frisky Bill.

Is the message that Hillary is Ready on Night One? That she won’t have to waste any time if she’s rousted out of bed in the wee hours, because she’s wearing a pantsuit under her pantsuit? (Or is it just, as Wesley Clark said during an appearance with her in Waco on Friday, that Hillary’s “been in the White House when the tough decisions were made. I guess you’ve been at the bedside when that phone rang at 3 a.m.”)

It’s rather Mommie Dearest for the first serious female contender to try to give the kiddies nightmares. How maternal is that? But since her nightmare is losing, she doesn’t mind scaring the pj’s off of little Jimmy and Johnny.

Obambi-No-More briskly dismissed Hillary’s attempt to cast him as a global ingénue. “Senator Clinton may not be aware, but we already had a red phone moment,” he said at an outdoor rally here, with the crowd of 8,000 booing at the mention of Hillary’s ad. “It was the decision to invade Iraq. Senator Clinton picked up the phone and gave the wrong answer. And John McCain picked up the phone and gave the wrong answer. And George Bush picked up the phone and gave the wrong answer.”

(In fact, there is no red phone in the Oval Office, but maybe Obama will redecorate. He wants to put in a hoops court.)

On “Nightline” last week, Hillary once more wallowed in gender inequities, asserting that it’s harder for her to run than her opponent — a black man with an exotic name that most Americans hadn’t even heard a year ago.

“Every so often I just wish that it were a little more of an even playing field,” she said, “but, you know, I play on whatever field is out there.”

Is that how she would deal with dictators, by playing the refs and going before the U.N. to demand: “How come you’re not asking Ahmadinejad these questions first?”

Tangled in her own victimhood, she snipped to Cynthia McFadden that Obama had written in his book that “he’s a blank screen and people of widely different views project what they want to believe onto him.” She said voters were projecting their hopes onto that blank screen even though “he just hasn’t been around long enough.”

In the next breath, asked about the women who feel sorry for her, she said: “I think a lot of women project their own feelings and their lives on to me, and they see how hard this is. It’s hard. It’s hard being a woman out there.”

So projection is bad with Obama but good with her?

On a conference call Friday with Hillary’s ever-more-hysterical male strategists, Slate’s John Dickerson asked exactly when she had been tested in a foreign policy crisis. After a silence long enough to knit a sweater in, as the Web site The Hotline put it, Mark Penn cited “her work on the Armed Services Committee.”

Hillary’s boys pout that the press should find some dirt on Obama before time runs out. Their once fearsome campaign is now reduced to whining that Obama did not hold any substantive hearings of his Subcommittee on European Affairs. What’s next? Bitterly complaining that he missed a quorum call?

Hillary keeps trying to dismiss Obama’s appeal as emotional, something that can be overcome with enough mental discipline. But behind that ethereal presence he’s a wonky lawyer, just like Hillary. He reads The Times and Philip Roth and talks about the fine points of Medicare Part B in a way W. never could have when he first ran for president. (Or now.)

Hillary’s visceral attacks will not work. And the Republicans’ visceral attacks on the Obamas’ patriotism, and their usual attempt to make the Democrat seem foreign (Hussein, Hussein, Hussein!), may not have the same traction.

The president took the country to war on his gut, exploited our fears and played the patriotism card to advance his political agenda.

This time, Americans may prefer cerebral arguments to visceral ones. What a refreshing change reality would be.

Ok, so there’s this movie called the American Astronaut, and it’s a science fiction musical that is basically parenting and printing…in space. If I had known about this film sooner, I would have definitely done my final project on it. This is probably the best film I’ve ever seen in my life. This scene takes place on Jupiter where boys grow up with no first-hand knowledge of women. (Women on Venus found a way to reproduce without men.) To keep up morale they keep a boy on the planet who can actually remember his glimpse of the maternal as a symbolic substitution for the real thing…I guess it makes perfect sense that he sings to them about VOWELS before getting to the juicy part, which turns out to be nothing more than an afterthought:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=EEyZffBQKu0&feature=related

If you haven’t seen the American Astronaut, you’re really missing out! It’s a truly incredible film.

Judy

As we all know, the bee population is mysteriously dying in California, with severe agricultural reproductions.  Well now, apparently, the same thing is happening to bats in New England, with at least 8,000 dying off last winter and up to 200,000 shuffling off this year.  The dead bats have white rings of fungus around their noses, something scientists have never seen. Most important to me is the connection between bats dying (vampires) and the ring virus (for lack of a better term).  Maybe they watched a video they shouldn’t have.
Here’s the story

–Brandon

I stumbled across an interview article with the writer Brian K. Vaughan, who often co-writes episodes of the tremendously successful “Lost”, and found out that he also just finished a comic book series called “Y: The Last Man”. Just guess what the story-line is…

“Issue 60 [the final issue] capped five years of the adventures of Yorrick Brown, last man on Earth after a mysterious plague kills everything else with a Y chromosome. Yorrick and his companions, scientist Allison Mann, secret agent 355, and Ampersand the monkey, traveled all over the world looking for Yorrick’s missing fiancée and for the secret to the plague.”

Also interesting is that later in the interview, they refer to Allison Mann not with her name, but with her number “355″.

Here’s the link to the full article!

http://blog.wired.com/underwire/2008/02/a-conversation.html

Have fun,
Jenna P.

Note all the references to symbolic systems (college, campus, punctuation, etc. ) at the outset of this review.

January 28, 2008
Critics’ Choice
New CDs

By JON PARELES
VAMPIRE WEEKEND

“Vampire Weekend” (XL)

Outside of marching bands and glee clubs, hardly a group anywhere is as proudly collegiate as Vampire Weekend, the Brooklyn band of four Columbia graduates that releases its self-titled debut album this week. Vampire Weekend has songs about heartbreak at school (“Campus”) and about punctuation (“Oxford Comma”), and in its brisk, neatly constructed tunes it flaunts musical erudition, from Afropop guitars to mock-Baroque strings.

Vampire Weekend’s model, musical and otherwise, is Talking Heads, who picked up rhythms from all sorts of places and never pretended to be lower-class or unintelligent. Ezra Koenig, on guitar, sings in an unabashedly slender voice about the studious, the well traveled, the privileged and the preppy. “Walcott” urges, “Don’t you want to get out of Cape Cod?,” and it’s only one of the album’s two Cape Cod songs; the other, “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” (named after a Congolese dance style), is about trying to seduce a sophomore girl on her Benetton linens.

The music keeps a light pop touch, setting up neat grooves that dip into bubble gum, new wave and Afro-Caribbean rhythms. Guitars riffle precise chords and lilt through arpeggios, keyboards go boop, and every flick of a drumbeat is in place. There are nimble touches everywhere: the hooting vocal harmonies in “One (Blake’s Got a New Face),” the bright six-beat syncopations in “Bryn,” the buildup to a full gallop — without speeding up — in “Mansard Roof.” The music is so perky that the band can breeze right through its more cryptic lyrics: “Eyes like a seagull/No Kansas-born beetle could ever come close to that free.” And the sheer cleverness of every track is endearing. But it’s also brittle; these songs could use just a little more heart. JON PARELES

YouTube/Utube = is for the eye (movies)

yet

iTunes/EyeTunes = is for the ear (songs)

hmmm…..

~ Jenny

I’m taking a class called Global Media this semester which, obviously, only solidifies everything we’ve ever talked about in class.  One of our text books, called Empire and Communications, traces every monumental change in human history and accredits the latest writing technology as the agent.  I mean, its really crazy how similar it is.  Just listen to the section titles:  1. Egypt 2. Babylona 3. The ORAL tradition and Greek Civilization 4.The WRITTEN tradition and the Roman Empire 5. Parchment and Paper 6. Paper and the Printing Press.

The author, Harold Innis, talks about the authority of the written word, the law, and man and ties them altogether!  Its awesome…. Dr. B, I will come by your office and let you borrow it!

Jenna Ward

Steve Jobs is the CEO of Pixar Animation and CEO of Apple Inc. It is no coincidence that he has the highest authority in both of these multi million dollar corporations—Steve Jobs understands the Law of the Father. We’ve already discussed why Apple is currently popular and why the icon is universally recognizable. In 1986 Steve Jobs bought a division of The George Lucas Empire and catapulted computer generated films, creating Pixar. While Pixar was still in the development stages, they created their first animated film. Luxo Jr. is an animation of two desk lamps interacting as a parent and child. The debate that caught public attention was not the technology; it was which parent lamp was the mother or the father. Jobs successfully tapped into the Law of the Father and intrigued viewers with a question on fatherhood and its ambiguity.

Sam

The latest Time magazine had an article about the entertainment industry going apocalyptic, which we’ve mentioned plenty, particularly in relation to Iraq being both the birthplace and deathplace of civilization. Here’s the link, then some thoughts:

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1704694,00.html

Writer Lev Grossman opens with a discussion of Mary Shelley’s The Last Man, and an exploration of that idea in pop culture (which we’ve already discussed on this blog) with Y–the Last Man and I Am Legend.

Cloverfield, the film producer JJ Abrams (Abram…father) wanted to become an American Godzilla, is the impetus for the article, which strongly cites the camerawork for providing the film with its power. The handheld camera style of The Blair Witch Project is called “the vernacular of the apocalypse,” meaning we’ve already given the apocalypse it’s own language. From my own viewing this year (well, technically last year), it’s interesting that the handheld camera scenes are the most gripping parts of In the Valley of Elah and Redacted, two of the prominent Iraq War movies (again, Iraq = apocalypse).

And now veering even further from the article, I just wanted to point out that the latest Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, and the recent Oscar trend toward violent movies with high body-counts (The Departed last year (or my favorite, Children of Men) and 2007’s No Country for Old Men or There will be Blood, among others) suggest not only a preoccupation with the apocalypse by the creators but an acceptance by their audience. Even the Nobel Prize, which went to Al Gore for his work on global warming, betrays an apocalypse fetish.

Almost exactly a year ago, the Doomsday clock moved two minutes closer to midnight, the closest to Armageddon it’s been moved since 1984. There’s that infamous year again.

–Brandon

P.S. 1984, for all its other parenthood/print-related events, is also the year of the first successful sexual harassment suit, dramatized in North Country, the landmark representation in America of women achieving de jure equality with men.

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