Personal Defense: On Fear (In Theory)

 

Part 1 of 2

Recent crime statistics show that violent crime is at a 45 year low and that gun crime in particular has dropped by half since 1993. At first glance these statistics seem to represent an unambiguous victory for the anti-gun control crowd. If they are indeed true, the root cause is not the availability of guns. I can’t help but agree.

This rather counter-intuitive statistical information does not settle the issue. The question remains:

 

why are we so afraid?

 

At the time of this writing the San Bernardino shooting is less than 48 hours in the past. The optics of this heinous crime represent a convergence of our present anxieties: the figure of the “lone wolf” mass shooter, and the specter of global terrorism.

With a dearth of hard facts at present, the perceived motivations underlying the attack in San Bernardino have already crystallized into partisan interpretations: on the Right is proof positive that Muslims are the absolute root of all evil, and on the Left that gun control is the sole solution to prevention of such crimes.

The fact is, less than 48 hours out, the facts are hopelessly irrelevant.

What is clear is that, barring our individual political outlooks on the event and others of its ilk, the villains have already won. Regardless of the actual death tolls, our psychospiritual atmosphere is already poisoned. We are all either slipping into violent insanity or succumbing to paralyzing despair.

The statistics confirm, in theory, that we are all safer than we have been in 45 years, with regards violent crime involving guns or otherwise. We do not feel safer in any tangible way.

The problem is not situated in objective reality, but is encased in the very narratives and media we employ to construct a reality. Solutions do not ultimately come down to being for or against certain immigration and/or gun control policies, but how we form our identities and oppose or reconcile them to real or perceived threats and the material or immaterial circumstances that undergird this formation.

In a brief but illuminating post written just after the Umpqua Community College shooting in October, Adam Kotsko elaborates upon the true depth of these violent spectacles: even if we solve the problem of access to guns (which he maintains is a worthwhile pursuit) we still have to reckon with the fact that as a society we still produce an alarming amount of individuals who believe a mass shooting is a perfectly reasonable way to deal with problems.

It is in that fact that those vehemently opposed to any and all gun control have a point: you cannot legislate evil out of existence. Any and all changes to law by no means guarantee that incidents of spectacular violence, politically motivated or not, will cease upon ratification.

This is far from an excuse to do nothing, which seems to be the only relatively “positive”plank in the anti-gun control platform. To speak out, to legislate, to yearn for action and alternative can mitigate the effects of the evil in our midst, and shrink its scope.

To refuse to give in to the fear engendered by these horrific events is to deny them victory, and to release ourselves from their terrible thrall.

By addressing the symptoms first, we may be able to one day address their root cause.

In the meantime, we cannot entrust our hopes to the cult of The Good Guy with a Gun.

Notes Towards an ISIS Primer

Here is a modest collection of articles that have been useful to me in trying to think through the problem of ISIS specifically, terrorism more broadly, in the wake of the attacks in Paris last weekend. With the atmosphere becoming increasingly warlike in the West it is absolutely crucial to get at the historical, religio-philosophical, and geopolitical complexity of the situation rather than sink into a convenient and comforting “Us vs. Them” narrative that will only cost more lives and ultimately solve nothing.

 

What ISIS Really Wants – The Atlantic

The Islamic State Wants You to Hate Refugees – Washington Post

To Defeat ISIS We Must Call Bot Western and Muslim Leaders to Account – The Nation

What I Discovered from Interviewing ISIS Prisoners – The Nation

Wikipedia Entry on Wahhabism

 

Lynx!! 3/2/15

Lynx-by-Raymondbarlow

Fuck No! Science!

Customer: “Do you guys sell punk? Like MXPX and CREED?”

Science Fantasy is Cool and Good

The Trauma Hero

I Need to Rewatch American Sniper

“Love in the Ruins” for the War on Terror Generation (I need to read this book)

Parks and Recreation’s 1st Season is Better than We Remember

This is Super Interesting but l Kinda Hate It

Jack Ketchum on Violence, Pain, Compassion

Warren Ellis on the Necessity of Violent Stories

Theology in Action: Jurgen Moltmann and Kelly Renee Gissendaner 

“Acts are Bullshit”– Milius on Screenwriting

Philip K. Dick: How to Build a Universe That Doesn’t Fall Apart Two Days Later

Twerking, Appropriation, and Mastodon’s Utopian Vision

First, just watch it:

 

 

What are we to make of this? Is it cheap exploitation? Shock tactics? A desperate stab at relevance by an aging metal band on the precipice of becoming dad-rock?

Mastodon’s video is another entry in the cultural discourse on twerking, albeit from an unlikely source, since the hard rock/heavy metal subculture is notorious for it’s hostility to anything considered popular or “mainstream”. Where does this video fit into the conversation? Is it just a continuation of the sordid tradition of white appropriation of black tropes, or is it contributing something new? or at the very least, something a tinge less problematic?

Here it is necessary to consider a couple of other touchstones in our ongoing fascination with twerking, starting in the negative: Miley Cyrus.

 

The “We Can’t Stop” video marked the arrival of the “new” Miley, a complete shedding of the Hannah Montana personality, and her attempt at edginess or relevance or whatever. To accomplish this, she used black bodies as set dressing to giver her video a little edge and bolster her newfound “adult” sexuality. While Miley has vehemently denied her use of black bodies as damaging, invoking the timeless “I have black friends/I don’t see race” defense, sociologist Tressie McMilllan Cottom explains in heartbreaking detail how Cyrus’ appropriation does nothing to question or curb the deep-seated, racist belief that black bodies are always available to be used however white people see fit.

Miley Cyrus has faced no small amount of criticism for this “aesthetic” choice, and for a time had seemed to back off on it. Then #assgate.

 

Now the positive:

 

 

Rihanna’s video is overtly sexual. Rihanna is overtly sexual. The “Pour it Up” video feels exploitative at first glance, but under careful scrutiny, it can read as empowering rather than objectifying. In an illuminating discussion, Susan Shepard, Ayesha Siddiqi and Sarah Prickett highlight how the video showcases twerking on its own merits, and from a position of female power. On an aesthetic level, the cinematography implies no male gaze; these are female bodies moving for themselves, for other women. The lyrics speak of woman getting her money in spite of male pleasure rather than because of it.

 

In what category does Mastodon fall?

The “Motherload” video itself has a healthy sense of humor. It begins with the staid metal tropes of pseudo-occultic imagery, but turns into a hip-hop video almost without warning, completely disposing of/declaring meaningless those first images. From there, Mastodon’s showcasing of twerking itself is pretty interesting. While there is a slight implication of male gaze/pleasure, the video’s second half is more akin to “Pour it Up” than “We Can’t Stop”. The women are showcased for their own physical feats. There are no reaction shots; Mastodon merely provides the soundtrack to the proceedings. And though the video hints at a competition, it doesn’t end with a winner, but a celebration of all. The women enjoy each other’s performances, and Mastodon continues to rock out for them. Everybody has a place in Mastodon’s little world; space to enjoy, to act, to celebrate.

Certainly, Mastodon have not sewn up the issue, and four old white guys certainly shouldn’t have the last word, but their video is an intriguing, positive and almost life-affirming entry into the discussion.

 

Lady Ahab and a Pack of Mutant Chimps: Post-“War on Terror” Cinema

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Zero Dark Thirty was the diagnosis.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is the cure.

 

In the years since 9/11/01, a date that threatens to re-center history, dethroning the birth of Christ Himself as the defining event of all Western civilization, we have continued telling stories. Stories to soothe ourselves, to make sense of what happened, to reckon with the dawning of a new century, one that could not be described as “American”.

After tragedy, we cling to the oldest stories, the simplest stories. Good/evil/white/black, neat divisions, no bullshit. These stories comfort and console, provide sense where there is none. They can do good, in a holistic sense, but the potential benefits have an expiration date.

The decade and a half since the towers fell has certainly seen no shortage of cultural production that wrestles with the complexity of the War on Terror, but those early-day questions and critiques have bled inwards from the fringe. Even popcorn flicks are willing to deal with these themes.

 

 

Kathryn Bigelow tried to sell Zero Dark Thirty as objective and historical, if not in some sense universal. The Hurt Locker won best picture because of this, and we all expected the same result on round two. Zero Dark Thirty was not as easily accepted. It got some critical acclaim, modest box office, a few nominations, but mostly a pissing match between the Left and Right over matters of historical record and political disposition. Did it accurately reflect the events it described? Whose ideology animated it? The Left dismissed it as an apology for latter day American Imperialism, the Right whinged about historical/factual inaccuracy.

For such an explicitly political film, no place of rest was prepared on either end of the spectrum. Almost 2 years on, it seems to be mostly forgotten; another prestige war picture thrown to the dustbin after its moment. But it haunts.

Bigelow’s film doesn’t function as intended; a little too dark and biting to simply be the docudrama its creators seemed to intend, that the public possibly wanted. What it is: a wannabe postmortem for the War on Terror. Maya is the new Marlowe/Willard; her river made of scraps of data divulged under duress, surveillance tapes, rumors. She pursues our new, alien Kurtz with the singular conviction of Ahab rather than Willard’s initially detached, soldierly professionalism or Marlowe’s haunted witness. Bin Laden is the answer; kill him, the question is settled, the bloodlust slaked. Zero Dark Thirty doesn’t indulge in the expected triumphalism of a job well done, an enemy slain. The path of the film is labyrinthine, and Maya’s journey indirect.  The Great Satan is killed without fanfare in the night, prey of demonic specters that fill the women and children with terror. Maya sees his mutilated face. It does not bring her friends back, or grant them peace. There is only uncertainty, if not fear, for the future.

What should have been the closing chapter to the Great American Misadventure of the 21st century is left open. Absolute vengeance did not stem the consequences of the actions that led to it. The forces set in motion by American bloodlust birthed innumerable terrors, and sowed chaos over the Middle East for the foreseeable future. Maya’s tears of anguish in the film’s final frame are for us, for them.

 

And what does an emergent civilization of genetically enhanced apes have to do with recent American history?

 

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes makes war its central theme. Its hypothetical universe sees apes ascendant in the wake of humanity’s fall. One civilization tries to build something new, the other to restore past glory. Inevitably, the deep traumas suffered by either side foment into open conflict. The efforts of the peacekeepers, the dreamers, undermined by deep hurt and hatred. As the ape Caesar said, “Apes started war. Humans will not forgive.”

Dawn ends in uncertainty, akin to Zero Dark Thirty, but with a recognition of what it takes to heal. The fledgling ape civilization, led astray by the scarred and hateful Koba’s own bloodlust, bows before their founder, the risen Caesar, uniformly displaying their open palms: a gesture of supplication, a request for forgiveness, an admission of complicity. The apes display a collective guilt and lament that the modern nation-state cannot hope to match, that leaders of men spurn, view as weakness.

Zero Dark Thirty was the diagnosis.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is the cure.

 

DAWN-OF-THE-PLANET-OF-THE-APES