"What are you going to do? Dice me, slice me, or peel me? There are so many choices!" --Jim Carrey, The Truman Show
It's wintertime in Kentucky, and this year we haven't had to travel to have a bit of the Olympic experience. In my back parking lot we've been plagued by black Avalanches with dark windows and fast-moving vehicles with unfriendly drivers in just the last week alone. When I'm not skating across a slippery lot to move my car, I'm pushing the recycling bin down an icy incline while hoping not to get brained, like the hockey coach who was recently hit by a puck, by something falling from the fire escape (I'm told it had a loose bolt a while back).
To give the Olympics their due, watching on TV is almost as hair-raising at times as real life. I've been a little less immersed in the Games this time than I sometimes am, and I'll tell you why. I usually enjoy the Olympics for the sportsmanship, the sheer athletic ability, and the sight of competitors coming from all over the world to participate. Pierre de Coubertin promoted the modern Olympics as a "festival of human unity," hoping to imbue them with some of the sacred purpose they originally served in ancient Greece. While one strains at times to detect qualities of brotherhood, sisterhood, and unity amid the commercialism and hype of today's Games, it's still there in the sincere efforts of athletes who push themselves to achieve more than they thought possible. It's there in the sight of competitors applauding others who have won honestly, appreciating their accomplishments in a sportsmanlike way. It's there in the human interest stories.
This year, though, I seem to detect even more politics than usual swirling about the Games. There's also a bit more showboating, many oddly dramatic costumes, mannerisms, and speeches, and a stilted quality to some of the commentary. Huh? Say what? All I want to do is enjoy athletic feats, not feel like I'm being asked to figure out what someone is trying to sell. I'm reminded of the scene in The Truman Show (in its own right a hilarious commentary on the blurring of real life, entertainment, and marketing) in which Truman's wife stops in the middle of a scripted conversation, looks at the camera, and pitches a particular brand of cocoa.
Is this the future of product placement? Is it mass hysteria? Something in the water? It's as much like watching Kabuki theatre or opera as it is an athletic competition, and the Olympics don't need that, in my opinion. The things skilled athletes can do on skies, sleds, boards, and skates don't need enhancement, which just gets in the way. The crux of the problem is that--to borrow John MacAloon's performance categories once again--there seems to be much less ritual and festival and much more spectacle and gamesmanship this time around. Just an impression on my part.
So my enjoyment has fallen off, and I've found my attention straying at times. I've even watched some of the competition with the sound turned down. When I can forget all the histrionics and distractions and become absorbed in the sheer mechanics of the athleticism, I'm still amazed at what people can do. The scenery is gorgeous and provides more than enough drama as a backdrop to all the action. I have to think the atmosphere of hyperreality surrounding the Games must be terribly trying to the competitors, who have enough to do to keep their concentration focused. Possibly they're used it.
The charm of the Winter Olympics lies in watching someone careen down an icy mountain at top speed, or twirl through the air and land gracefully on skates, without having to do it yourself. It's largely a vicarious thrill; I'm content to tune in from the relative safety of my couch. I've even been known to drink a mug of hot cocoa while watching, but it's usually not the brand someone else is selling. I like to reserve those decisions for myself.
Showing posts with label John MacAloon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John MacAloon. Show all posts
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Thursday, January 30, 2014
A Mythologist, a TV, and the State of the Union
The State of the Union address is a political ritual--or purports to be. I say "purports" because in a true ritual, what occurs is transformative. The ritual makes something happen. With the State of the Union, the idea is that the President outlines his views on where the country is and where it needs to go, thus galvanizing the troops to join him in creating change. The speech is incantatory, you might say.
While listening to the President speak on Tuesday, I found myself agreeing with a lot of his stated goals. He spoke forcefully and enthusiastically about environmental protection, helping the middle class, education, and other matters. I think he did a good job of striking a tone of optimism and creating the sense that America is in a good position, soon to be even better (whether or not it's true, he made a good case for it).
I've often been impressed with President Obama's intelligence and verbal ability; he is a quick thinker on his feet, a trait that's especially obvious during debates. Tuesday night's speech was largely the work of a speech writer, of course, which puts it in a different category than debating, but we know the President approved both wording and content. His style was evident in the address. I wouldn't put the President's rhetoric on the same level as that of, say, John F. Kennedy or Abraham Lincoln, but, truly, how many can aspire to that? That kind of eloquence is rarely seen.
What about the transformative power of the speech? Was this a true ritual? Well, we don't know yet. We heard the address, and now we await events. There has to be something genuine behind the words in order for them to have power. Certainly, there was a lot of energy in the House Chamber last night, and the assembled politicians and guests greeted most of the president's proposals enthusiastically.
I disagree with the President on some things. I was disappointed in his recent defense of the NSA data collection programs (which he only touched on Tuesday night), a position I find astonishing. His advocacy of those programs was very articulate, but seriously, are we supposed to believe, especially in light of recent data breaches like the one at Target, that yet more large collections of private data are a good idea? Some officials keep saying it's only metadata, not content. That may be true, but can no one envision ways in which even that information could be (and possibly is being) abused? If you're not involved in criminal activity, why should the government be able to find out who you've been talking to? Some analysts have said of 9/11 that it was not lack of intelligence that led to the attack, but failure to use intelligence already available. I have no doubt of the government's ability to track criminals and terrorists, but the average American is neither and has done nothing to forfeit the (by the way, constitutional) right to privacy.
I guess this issue of overreaching and secrecy overshadows, for me, a lot of the other (laudable) goals and achievements the President outlined. Take the Affordable Health Care Act, which was featured prominently in his speech. I see affordable health care as a positive thing and have heard people I know say they now have coverage for the first time in years. This is a big deal, despite all the snafus with the website and that oh-so-secure information applicants had to entrust to the government. On the other hand, I've been reading about negotiations the administration has tried to keep out of the press concerning the Trans-Pacific Partnership trade agreement. It would reportedly give foreign corporations the power to challenge laws and regulations that protect, among other things, food safety and environmental quality. As in our laws and regulations. Our food safety. Our air and water. If foreign corporations are granted the ability to challenge, in international court, laws designed to protect us, then you're going to need that Obamacare. (Many Democrats and some conservative Republicans alike oppose the TPP and/or the extreme lack of transparency surrounding it. I say, good for them.)
The President portrayed himself in his speech as willing to charge ahead and act on his own to accomplish his policies if Congress isn't willing to jump on board. A lot of political hay was made last year of Congressional intransigency. Naturally, the public is angered when the failure to reach agreements results in government shutdowns and lack of progress on important issues. However, I wonder if there isn't another side to the story, one involving Congress's frustration with an administration that shuts them out of decision-making in which they should be involved. Apparently, it even keeps tabs on who they've been talking to (a privilege not reserved just for the masses, it seems).
I'm suspicious of attempts to point the finger (or, as Jungians say, project the shadow), just as I'm suspicious of attempts to change the subject, do things secretly, or divide people. Ditto attempts to circumvent or lean on the press. I know there are good, hard-working people on both sides of the aisle in Congress. I suspect many of them would be glad to work with the President to achieve the goals he laid out Tuesday night. The question is, why isn't it happening? If they were candid--parties, partisanship, politics aside, just for one moment--I wonder what members of Congress would say about their views on the lack of progress. Maybe we should ask them.
So, you may be wondering, if, by chance, Tuesday night's speech wasn't ritual, wasn't transformative, what was it? There are other possibilities for what we saw, but I like the approach of anthropologist and historian John J. MacAloon, who has applied the categories of festival, spectacle, ritual, and game to no less an event than the Olympics. Ritual we've talked about. Spectacle is something designed to impress by reason of a powerful display; it's what the Olympics became in the hands of the Romans; it was Michelle Obama's odd appearance at last year's Oscars. A festival is a celebration, like a Fourth of July party. Games are, well, games. They, too, are a type of performance, one that requires roles, rules, and established goals.
The State of the Union address might have been more than one of these performance types. Certainly, it was impressive to watch, and I found it moving to see the mechanisms of our democracy laid bare in the House Chamber, with Supreme Court justices, members of Congress, and the President and members of his administration all coming together like that. It was a little like the Fourth of July, wasn't it? I hope it will give us reason to celebrate, but that remains to be seen. Words are powerful, but in politics, they too often seem to be merely that: words.
Rhetoric is nice, but sometimes homespun philosophy is more to the point. To put it another way, maybe what we need is, as Toby Keith says, a little less talk and a lot more action. Of the G-rated variety, of course.
While listening to the President speak on Tuesday, I found myself agreeing with a lot of his stated goals. He spoke forcefully and enthusiastically about environmental protection, helping the middle class, education, and other matters. I think he did a good job of striking a tone of optimism and creating the sense that America is in a good position, soon to be even better (whether or not it's true, he made a good case for it).
I've often been impressed with President Obama's intelligence and verbal ability; he is a quick thinker on his feet, a trait that's especially obvious during debates. Tuesday night's speech was largely the work of a speech writer, of course, which puts it in a different category than debating, but we know the President approved both wording and content. His style was evident in the address. I wouldn't put the President's rhetoric on the same level as that of, say, John F. Kennedy or Abraham Lincoln, but, truly, how many can aspire to that? That kind of eloquence is rarely seen.
What about the transformative power of the speech? Was this a true ritual? Well, we don't know yet. We heard the address, and now we await events. There has to be something genuine behind the words in order for them to have power. Certainly, there was a lot of energy in the House Chamber last night, and the assembled politicians and guests greeted most of the president's proposals enthusiastically.
I disagree with the President on some things. I was disappointed in his recent defense of the NSA data collection programs (which he only touched on Tuesday night), a position I find astonishing. His advocacy of those programs was very articulate, but seriously, are we supposed to believe, especially in light of recent data breaches like the one at Target, that yet more large collections of private data are a good idea? Some officials keep saying it's only metadata, not content. That may be true, but can no one envision ways in which even that information could be (and possibly is being) abused? If you're not involved in criminal activity, why should the government be able to find out who you've been talking to? Some analysts have said of 9/11 that it was not lack of intelligence that led to the attack, but failure to use intelligence already available. I have no doubt of the government's ability to track criminals and terrorists, but the average American is neither and has done nothing to forfeit the (by the way, constitutional) right to privacy.
I guess this issue of overreaching and secrecy overshadows, for me, a lot of the other (laudable) goals and achievements the President outlined. Take the Affordable Health Care Act, which was featured prominently in his speech. I see affordable health care as a positive thing and have heard people I know say they now have coverage for the first time in years. This is a big deal, despite all the snafus with the website and that oh-so-secure information applicants had to entrust to the government. On the other hand, I've been reading about negotiations the administration has tried to keep out of the press concerning the Trans-Pacific Partnership trade agreement. It would reportedly give foreign corporations the power to challenge laws and regulations that protect, among other things, food safety and environmental quality. As in our laws and regulations. Our food safety. Our air and water. If foreign corporations are granted the ability to challenge, in international court, laws designed to protect us, then you're going to need that Obamacare. (Many Democrats and some conservative Republicans alike oppose the TPP and/or the extreme lack of transparency surrounding it. I say, good for them.)
The President portrayed himself in his speech as willing to charge ahead and act on his own to accomplish his policies if Congress isn't willing to jump on board. A lot of political hay was made last year of Congressional intransigency. Naturally, the public is angered when the failure to reach agreements results in government shutdowns and lack of progress on important issues. However, I wonder if there isn't another side to the story, one involving Congress's frustration with an administration that shuts them out of decision-making in which they should be involved. Apparently, it even keeps tabs on who they've been talking to (a privilege not reserved just for the masses, it seems).
I'm suspicious of attempts to point the finger (or, as Jungians say, project the shadow), just as I'm suspicious of attempts to change the subject, do things secretly, or divide people. Ditto attempts to circumvent or lean on the press. I know there are good, hard-working people on both sides of the aisle in Congress. I suspect many of them would be glad to work with the President to achieve the goals he laid out Tuesday night. The question is, why isn't it happening? If they were candid--parties, partisanship, politics aside, just for one moment--I wonder what members of Congress would say about their views on the lack of progress. Maybe we should ask them.
So, you may be wondering, if, by chance, Tuesday night's speech wasn't ritual, wasn't transformative, what was it? There are other possibilities for what we saw, but I like the approach of anthropologist and historian John J. MacAloon, who has applied the categories of festival, spectacle, ritual, and game to no less an event than the Olympics. Ritual we've talked about. Spectacle is something designed to impress by reason of a powerful display; it's what the Olympics became in the hands of the Romans; it was Michelle Obama's odd appearance at last year's Oscars. A festival is a celebration, like a Fourth of July party. Games are, well, games. They, too, are a type of performance, one that requires roles, rules, and established goals.
The State of the Union address might have been more than one of these performance types. Certainly, it was impressive to watch, and I found it moving to see the mechanisms of our democracy laid bare in the House Chamber, with Supreme Court justices, members of Congress, and the President and members of his administration all coming together like that. It was a little like the Fourth of July, wasn't it? I hope it will give us reason to celebrate, but that remains to be seen. Words are powerful, but in politics, they too often seem to be merely that: words.
Rhetoric is nice, but sometimes homespun philosophy is more to the point. To put it another way, maybe what we need is, as Toby Keith says, a little less talk and a lot more action. Of the G-rated variety, of course.
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