15

Watched Disturbia today instead of the Emmys. It was the first time I have seen the movie, and I spotted a few interesting threads in it. One is the Twilight informed prevalence of stalking being equated to romance. Since I'm in a reductionist mood, I will attribute this to being a over-reaction to the "old" postmodern take on love, which might be conceived as "I can't tell this woman I love her, because that's all been done before". The thermidorian reaction to this attitude, seen in movies like Disturbia and Twilight, is something akin to "I must have this person no matter the cost" which is frankly rather scary.

More interesting is the end of the movie where Shia keeps making out with the Sarah Roemer while their friend films them. Instead of modifying his behavior because there is the potentiality many people will see the act, Shia just keeps on going. Think about the aforementioned Emmys - they would not be presented the same way if people weren't watching. I think Shia's attitude is the new one developing in response to near constant surveillance, for better or for worse.

9

Possible alternate ending for Toy Story 3:
...We thought we were safe but we weren't. Bonnie's mother, spurred on by trendy narratives of material simplicity took it upon herself to just chuck us all in the trash. The effect upon the little girl is unknown. Still, we found ourselves back in the dump again, this time buried inescapably. Separated, unable even to converse, there was nothing we could do to retain our sanity. Buzz probably had it easiest; his finite battery life was his saving grace. I, on the other hand, powered by pullstring, have no such easy way to escape consciousness.
Under the refuse of generations, I have been doomed to smolder.

I have no batteries, and I must scr-THERE'S A SNAKE IN MY BOOT

7

After writing my last post, I realized that I had been, hitherto that point, ignoring the little "labels for this post" box beneath the main text field of the post editor. I struggled with myself briefly, going back and forth over whether it was absolutely necessary for me to tag my posts; this is supposed to be a personal journal more than anything else, after all. I ended up relenting, and tagging the post as best I could.

That phrase, "the best I could", is really the interesting part of the tagging phenomenon. There is no doubt that it is, in the continental bullshit sense, a violent epistemology. How am I supposed to reduce my wonderfully original ramblings into a few short and detached words? Even now, typing this with my eyes nervously focused on the "labels for this post" box below, I can feel a knife sliding into the corpus of my ideas.

Melodrama aside, tagging, while being a critical part of the internet's organization, is very sub-optimal for what you might term "discovery of the other". What I mean by this is roughly the act colloquially known as "facebook stalking" (Which I of course, do not admit to actually doing. Thought experiment!) Facebook now organizes the "Info" tab of a users profile by using a series of tags. For example, under the "Interests" heading of the "Likes and Interests" sections I have tagged "Hauntology". Clicking on that word, "Hauntology", brings me to a page with basic information about the topic, and a list of people who have also tagged "Hauntology" under "Interests". I am now free to peruse the profiles of these people, to whatever extent their privacy settings allow, and fantasize meeting them in all sorts of situations, creating a personality for them from the little pieces of themselves they have tagged on their Facebook info page. Of course these parts are just a glimpse of the totality of that person, and I really know nothing at all. I have, through tagging, simply reduced them. Certainly, epistemologies of the other are almost always violent (Continental version of the word again) but no so much to this degree. If we allow some sort of Levinasian face-to-face encounter be our ideal, tagging exists almost on the opposite end of the epistemological spectrum, far past, say "reading their diary" or "talking to their friends", and just before "seeing them on the street and making up a fantasy about them". Is finding someone in such a way, based off of the value of some common interest on paper, not pretty much the most violently (Again!) reductionist thing one can do?

Of course, I am still going to tag this post; tagging is, through technological limitations, how the internet must work. But while my pragmatic side is tagging away, my continental side can still fret as much as it pleases.

3

I had planned to write this entry on a book someone left on the desk a few days ago, a picnic themed cooking book some member of the family checked out of the library. What struck me at first glance of the book-jacket was that the guy who wrote it has an MFA from Iowa's Writers Workshop. Glancing through it it was clear that the prose didn't disappoint; it was for the most part lucid and funny. It was also annoying, and almost pornographic in its desire for quirkiness and spontaneity. In fact, my essay was going to detail just how pornographic the whole thing is, down to the cover picture of a smiling couple content merely with each other (and the enormous quantities of prosciutto and gazpacho they had just consumed. Probably a few bottles of wine as well). It was going to be a wonderful thesis on the pornography of the conventional. Unfortunately, I sat down to write the thing today, and noticed that the book was missing. After performing a cursory search, it became clear that the book had been returned. No one had even attempted any of the recipes. Of course this proves my point; if pornography defers yet almost constitutes sex, this cookbook does the same thing with conventional romantic practices. Could have been great, though maybe not, as I've never been too good at satire.