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This is a self-portrait of Erik Satie, the original bohemian.
The text reads (translated from French):
"Project for a bust of Mr. Erik Satie (painted by the same), with a thought: 'I came into the world very young, in an age that was very old'"
Gymnopedia, to be performed at least three times a day
This is a self-portrait of Erik Satie, the original bohemian.
The text reads (translated from French):
"Project for a bust of Mr. Erik Satie (painted by the same), with a thought: 'I came into the world very young, in an age that was very old'"
Part two in a two-part series
What if the advent of liberalism is not really the cause of the red state/blue state American culture war? What if American liberalism was adopted as a newer form of traditional conservative co-optation, a way for white people to attempt to deal with their cultural self-loathing by escaping from their own criticism?
Some things to consider: The Western, white, male perspective is the implicit target of Deconstructionist criticism. But most foundational Postmodern critics and many (not all) humanities professors are still white and a significant percentage of them male. President Bush is constructed to be the arrogant, ignorant, white, supreme-arch-nemesis of all that is Liberal. But most Democrats and almost all Democratic political candidates share more similarity than difference with Bush, being usually white, male, and middle-to-upper class.
Long before anyone mainstream in America cared about identity politics, white kids had been having this long-term love affair with black culture, a history that includes the co-option of Jazz and Blues, Elvis, and Johnny Cash, among others. Functionally for white people, it may be that the hippie movement predates any concern with identity politics. Look at photos from Woodstock and commune experiments: These weren't angry, marginalized minorities, they were recently straight-laced white kids that had a problem with the culture of their parents on a number of levels.
Then, after all of our parents returned to mainstream culture after their short-lived hippie vacation, they became the "oppressive authoritarians" and our generation developed its own reactionary culture (though it happens to be pretty mainstream itself ever since capitalism figured out that “alternative” is a market too).
Here we are in 2006 and conservative kids have two options: Stay in the conservative fold or seize your moment to run into the arms of The Other. Because it’s still just as hip to be un-white, to be anti-consumer, to read Marx, to listen to M.I.A., to wear dreadlocks or something, to dive into these things at least during a phase in life. Even the significant portion of college-age kids who stay conservative still dance to Jamaican dancehall on the weekends and blast Outkast on their iPods. It's almost entirely unavoidable: Co-optation of "the other" (esp. black culture) is nothing less than a coming-of-age ritual in our country for every generation since slavery ended (and perhaps before). (See this page of a related interview with John McWhorter that Davis brought to my attention).
Moving closer to home, the Christian microcosm of all this is conservative Evangelical kids who react against their parents by becoming liberal (or libertarian) Christians and getting involved in social justice and multiculturalism and international aid, trying to read and apply a wider section of their Bibles, if only because it was the opposite of the preceeding generation’s user-friendly prosperity gospel. And when reading the red letters, they saw that it said community was important, that poor people matter, and, like, something about Feminism.
I admit that I fit in somewhere along these lines: I question authority. I have been known to rage against the machine. And I generally think I'm right.
But putting the rightness or wrongness of liberalism (or Liberation theology) to the side, the important, self-analytical question that I am asking myself right now is about the origin of my embrace of it: I'm concerned that the core of this for me may be significantly reactive in nature. Not every Christian who cares about social issues was introduced to those issues reactively (some had liberal parents, of course), but it seems undeniable to me that many were introduced in this way, many more will be, and even the most authentically liberal Christians are powered by at least a strain of reactionary belief.
So while I am personally committed to thinking outside of “the box” and especially inside the gospels, I think it’s pretty important for myself and every Christian who finds their identity anywhere near the category of the “alternative" to consider the specific origins of their personal party platforms.
Being reactively-motivated is not something you or I should take lightly: At the very least can easily render anyone self-righteously asinine and likely to sell out. But it’s ultimate threat to white, American Christians is that it will put pride, generational issues, and our ever-present white identity crises before the gospel in our hearts and actions.
I hope that Jesus’ core values continue to permeate my life and those of my fellow Christians. (As a matter of fact, I hope His values permeate everyone's lives). I hope that they outlive and erode mere reactionary sentiment. If they do, I am confident that self-loathing will necessarily be dissipated and the passing on of culture between generations will start to become more harmonious, a process of growth rather than one that is cyclically dissonant.
Some things to consider: The Western, white, male perspective is the implicit target of Deconstructionist criticism. But most foundational Postmodern critics and many (not all) humanities professors are still white and a significant percentage of them male. President Bush is constructed to be the arrogant, ignorant, white, supreme-arch-nemesis of all that is Liberal. But most Democrats and almost all Democratic political candidates share more similarity than difference with Bush, being usually white, male, and middle-to-upper class.
Long before anyone mainstream in America cared about identity politics, white kids had been having this long-term love affair with black culture, a history that includes the co-option of Jazz and Blues, Elvis, and Johnny Cash, among others. Functionally for white people, it may be that the hippie movement predates any concern with identity politics. Look at photos from Woodstock and commune experiments: These weren't angry, marginalized minorities, they were recently straight-laced white kids that had a problem with the culture of their parents on a number of levels.
Then, after all of our parents returned to mainstream culture after their short-lived hippie vacation, they became the "oppressive authoritarians" and our generation developed its own reactionary culture (though it happens to be pretty mainstream itself ever since capitalism figured out that “alternative” is a market too).
Here we are in 2006 and conservative kids have two options: Stay in the conservative fold or seize your moment to run into the arms of The Other. Because it’s still just as hip to be un-white, to be anti-consumer, to read Marx, to listen to M.I.A., to wear dreadlocks or something, to dive into these things at least during a phase in life. Even the significant portion of college-age kids who stay conservative still dance to Jamaican dancehall on the weekends and blast Outkast on their iPods. It's almost entirely unavoidable: Co-optation of "the other" (esp. black culture) is nothing less than a coming-of-age ritual in our country for every generation since slavery ended (and perhaps before). (See this page of a related interview with John McWhorter that Davis brought to my attention).
Moving closer to home, the Christian microcosm of all this is conservative Evangelical kids who react against their parents by becoming liberal (or libertarian) Christians and getting involved in social justice and multiculturalism and international aid, trying to read and apply a wider section of their Bibles, if only because it was the opposite of the preceeding generation’s user-friendly prosperity gospel. And when reading the red letters, they saw that it said community was important, that poor people matter, and, like, something about Feminism.
I admit that I fit in somewhere along these lines: I question authority. I have been known to rage against the machine. And I generally think I'm right.
But putting the rightness or wrongness of liberalism (or Liberation theology) to the side, the important, self-analytical question that I am asking myself right now is about the origin of my embrace of it: I'm concerned that the core of this for me may be significantly reactive in nature. Not every Christian who cares about social issues was introduced to those issues reactively (some had liberal parents, of course), but it seems undeniable to me that many were introduced in this way, many more will be, and even the most authentically liberal Christians are powered by at least a strain of reactionary belief.
So while I am personally committed to thinking outside of “the box” and especially inside the gospels, I think it’s pretty important for myself and every Christian who finds their identity anywhere near the category of the “alternative" to consider the specific origins of their personal party platforms.
Being reactively-motivated is not something you or I should take lightly: At the very least can easily render anyone self-righteously asinine and likely to sell out. But it’s ultimate threat to white, American Christians is that it will put pride, generational issues, and our ever-present white identity crises before the gospel in our hearts and actions.
I hope that Jesus’ core values continue to permeate my life and those of my fellow Christians. (As a matter of fact, I hope His values permeate everyone's lives). I hope that they outlive and erode mere reactionary sentiment. If they do, I am confident that self-loathing will necessarily be dissipated and the passing on of culture between generations will start to become more harmonious, a process of growth rather than one that is cyclically dissonant.
John Perkins and my DSC-P72
Genre photos! Media cliches! They're all around us! Have you noticed? This month it seems that every time I turn around I am assaulted by photo sets of empathetically-(tearfully?)-smiling Christian white kids surrounded by a small crowd of black street urchins (who they appear to have just befriended).
What are the photos saying about us?
If the digital point-and-shoot camera is apt to become the poor man's creativity crutch, the digital SLR can easily become the rich man's "Art" crutch. But neither device is merely for art, it also has the potential for documentary, which gives it street cred and accessibility. And relevance!
Who is this strange beast, the Christian Day-Tripper? He/she parades around the (third) world, building little cinderblock houses and capturing an obscene number of confused little black children inside of a camera, eventually returning home to broadcast this evidence of association across all forms of digital image technology in order to share the experience of their poverty in some small way. In some small way indeed, since we viewers are not really capable of experiencing their poverty at all. For that matter, are we really even capable of experiencing “the other half” when we travel abroad for a week, a month, a year?
The likely, terrifying possibility is that there may be a whole lot of personal pleasure getting mixed in to something that was supposed to be service. Who’s really getting served? Might it be the one who stops in to visit, who documents their association with the poor, and who steps off the plane on the return to their comfortable hometown deafened by a moral fanfare?
I’ve never been on a real mission trip, but the only thing I ever hear is “Well, you know, I gave up so much to do this, but in return I received far more than I gave.” Well maybe this is actually true, maybe we Christians are actually receiving more than we're giving. Maybe our mission trips are really gathering trips. Maybe we are really stealing from the poor a second time over, this time of the authenticity implied by the poverty we imparted to them.
I've got a hypothesis about the commodity, the new treasure that we’re digitally mining out of the third world: It’s that new, post-modern, coveted value known as “The Grime Factor.” Just as fashion has progressed from plastic-slick, technology-fetish costumes of the 80s into faux-ripped Abercrombie & Fitch authenticity, the rest of our interests are quickly growing tired of that ever-present, oh-so-commonplace polished, industrial gloss. Enough opaquely computerized keyboard bleeps, give me real drum kits floating in a sea of gentle vinyl pops! Better yet, go ahead and resample old soul records on that new Kanyeyed Peas track—-oops, I mean "record": The sampling's worth at least two points, since vomiting up black music from the 70s exploits “the other” twice over: The second time blaxploitation rolls around we'll call it vintage. And OMG, second-hand shops are so funky-fresh! Forget the orgasmically-minimal international style, we want classic lofts, you know, renovated stone fronts that scream “this building has character!” After all, for all we know poor black folks probably lived in this very building this at some point!
Let's be honest with ourselves: We’re apathetic, alienated, disaffected, over-disinfected rich people, alternately bored of and devastated by the world we've created for ourselves, seeking to associate with another world. We’re bustling around on our kitchen linoleum, which by the way seems to be starting to wear. We’re making calls and placing ads, trying to get rid of the old Mies van der Rohe dining set as quick as possible because the fact that it is horrendously sterile-looking just dawned on us. Unfortunately we just can’t find anything to replace it with, so milking culture from the tiny, chafed teats of the poor man that we keep in a cage in the garage will have to do for now. Better yet, maybe we can find an old loft in to move into, along with the new-vintage couch.
Why should we delude ourselves about the good we're doing on our short-term missions projects? Why should we stroke our overworked little social consciences like this? If we think about it, we may find that we are actually, literally benefiting from our "third-world encounters."
So rather then deny this fact, why don't we start applying Christian ethics to this situation:
In the best-case scenario, we’re taking because we perceive that we are in need. Which is fine for us to admit. But if this is the case, the first thing we should do is to admit this to the people we’re taking from:
“You have something I need: Perhaps it’s spiritual vitality, perhaps it’s a breath of fresh air outside of our pleasantly-stifling sphere of consumption, perhaps it’s a stimulus for deeply-rooted nostalgia about the wholesomely simple pleasures of our agricultural past (we’ll just gloss over those nauseatingly fixed cultural roles that it was built on for now). Let’s trade: I’ll try my best to re-distribute my amassed wealth and privilege, hopefully lessening my drain on the earth’s resources and people I am oppressing, like you. In return you give me a day-to-day life that has more space, is more sane, is less drunk on the quickly souring Kool-aid of industrial progress.”
Absurd? Yes, indeed! but at least it's a start at moving away from the condescension to the “third-world” that is necessitated by the lie that we’re primarily selfless in our efforts. The most significant thing your average youth group short-term missionary is offering the "third world" is the commodification of poor folks’ way of life as an accessory to wealth, as a bullet point alongside a six-figure future income.
In the best-possible-case scenario, we might even find that in attempting to re-access real authenticity and humility, we actually are able to offer our poorer neighbors some resources of value.
And as hesitant as I am to admit it, perhaps short-term missions have a value, perhaps it makes some backwards ethical sense to spoon-feed digital deaths and pre-packaged, frozen, third-world moments to the rich in order to finance this blunt, systematic exchange of resources.
It’s fine if mission trips do have a value, but first, at the very least, it is time to admit that the value is not only passing from the rich man to the poor man, but also vice versa.
What are the photos saying about us?
If the digital point-and-shoot camera is apt to become the poor man's creativity crutch, the digital SLR can easily become the rich man's "Art" crutch. But neither device is merely for art, it also has the potential for documentary, which gives it street cred and accessibility. And relevance!
Who is this strange beast, the Christian Day-Tripper? He/she parades around the (third) world, building little cinderblock houses and capturing an obscene number of confused little black children inside of a camera, eventually returning home to broadcast this evidence of association across all forms of digital image technology in order to share the experience of their poverty in some small way. In some small way indeed, since we viewers are not really capable of experiencing their poverty at all. For that matter, are we really even capable of experiencing “the other half” when we travel abroad for a week, a month, a year?
The likely, terrifying possibility is that there may be a whole lot of personal pleasure getting mixed in to something that was supposed to be service. Who’s really getting served? Might it be the one who stops in to visit, who documents their association with the poor, and who steps off the plane on the return to their comfortable hometown deafened by a moral fanfare?
I’ve never been on a real mission trip, but the only thing I ever hear is “Well, you know, I gave up so much to do this, but in return I received far more than I gave.” Well maybe this is actually true, maybe we Christians are actually receiving more than we're giving. Maybe our mission trips are really gathering trips. Maybe we are really stealing from the poor a second time over, this time of the authenticity implied by the poverty we imparted to them.
I've got a hypothesis about the commodity, the new treasure that we’re digitally mining out of the third world: It’s that new, post-modern, coveted value known as “The Grime Factor.” Just as fashion has progressed from plastic-slick, technology-fetish costumes of the 80s into faux-ripped Abercrombie & Fitch authenticity, the rest of our interests are quickly growing tired of that ever-present, oh-so-commonplace polished, industrial gloss. Enough opaquely computerized keyboard bleeps, give me real drum kits floating in a sea of gentle vinyl pops! Better yet, go ahead and resample old soul records on that new Kanyeyed Peas track—-oops, I mean "record": The sampling's worth at least two points, since vomiting up black music from the 70s exploits “the other” twice over: The second time blaxploitation rolls around we'll call it vintage. And OMG, second-hand shops are so funky-fresh! Forget the orgasmically-minimal international style, we want classic lofts, you know, renovated stone fronts that scream “this building has character!” After all, for all we know poor black folks probably lived in this very building this at some point!
Let's be honest with ourselves: We’re apathetic, alienated, disaffected, over-disinfected rich people, alternately bored of and devastated by the world we've created for ourselves, seeking to associate with another world. We’re bustling around on our kitchen linoleum, which by the way seems to be starting to wear. We’re making calls and placing ads, trying to get rid of the old Mies van der Rohe dining set as quick as possible because the fact that it is horrendously sterile-looking just dawned on us. Unfortunately we just can’t find anything to replace it with, so milking culture from the tiny, chafed teats of the poor man that we keep in a cage in the garage will have to do for now. Better yet, maybe we can find an old loft in to move into, along with the new-vintage couch.
Why should we delude ourselves about the good we're doing on our short-term missions projects? Why should we stroke our overworked little social consciences like this? If we think about it, we may find that we are actually, literally benefiting from our "third-world encounters."
So rather then deny this fact, why don't we start applying Christian ethics to this situation:
In the best-case scenario, we’re taking because we perceive that we are in need. Which is fine for us to admit. But if this is the case, the first thing we should do is to admit this to the people we’re taking from:
“You have something I need: Perhaps it’s spiritual vitality, perhaps it’s a breath of fresh air outside of our pleasantly-stifling sphere of consumption, perhaps it’s a stimulus for deeply-rooted nostalgia about the wholesomely simple pleasures of our agricultural past (we’ll just gloss over those nauseatingly fixed cultural roles that it was built on for now). Let’s trade: I’ll try my best to re-distribute my amassed wealth and privilege, hopefully lessening my drain on the earth’s resources and people I am oppressing, like you. In return you give me a day-to-day life that has more space, is more sane, is less drunk on the quickly souring Kool-aid of industrial progress.”
Absurd? Yes, indeed! but at least it's a start at moving away from the condescension to the “third-world” that is necessitated by the lie that we’re primarily selfless in our efforts. The most significant thing your average youth group short-term missionary is offering the "third world" is the commodification of poor folks’ way of life as an accessory to wealth, as a bullet point alongside a six-figure future income.
In the best-possible-case scenario, we might even find that in attempting to re-access real authenticity and humility, we actually are able to offer our poorer neighbors some resources of value.
And as hesitant as I am to admit it, perhaps short-term missions have a value, perhaps it makes some backwards ethical sense to spoon-feed digital deaths and pre-packaged, frozen, third-world moments to the rich in order to finance this blunt, systematic exchange of resources.
It’s fine if mission trips do have a value, but first, at the very least, it is time to admit that the value is not only passing from the rich man to the poor man, but also vice versa.
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