Why We Want the World to End (Or Don’t)

(I’m not completely happy with this post, since I seem to be writing it from a very Western, very humanistic perspective. Usually I try to write in such a way as to challenge Western-centric views, and I ultimately tend to prefer Donna Haraway’s posthumanism to humanism. However, like the rest of the nation, I’m still reeling from the tragedy of the Sandy Hook shooting and I’m not really sure how to process it. So I’m falling back on old worldviews that I’ve been surrounded by all my life and that are Western-centric and humanist.)

December 21, 2012, has come and gone, and yet we and the world are still here. (For my fellow Whovians: the Doctor saved us! Again!) But why all the hype and build-up? Why are people so attracted to the idea of the end of the world?

A fascination with the apocalypse is nothing new, of course. Perhaps as long as there have been people, we’ve been contemplating our own demise. Many different religions have stories about the world ending or nearly ending or predicting the end of the world. We have movies about the end of civilization brought about by global warming or a zombie virus or another species. Why are we so fascinated with this stuff?

In some sense, I think it’s cathartic. When bad things happen, especially really, really bad things, I think a part of us believes that the world just can’t get better. This weekend, after being bombared by news of the tragic shooting in Sandy Hook, when I was searching for something to read, I didn’t reach for the comforting essays of David Sedaris or the wisdom of Greg Epstein or the motivation of Eve Ensler. No, I cracked open World War Z by Max Brooks, a faux historical account of the zombie apocalypse, set in our own near-future. It was a morbid mix of media—Sandy Hook on the television and a book of grisly zombie attacks in my lap. Yet the combination seemed fitting. The shooting and the book both spoke of the darker sides of humanity, the destructive parts of our nature, our callousness. It’s easy to look at all of the violence in the world, the poverty, the inequality, the injustices, and (worst of all) the indifference, and think that we really are, as a global society, devouring ourselves. Sometimes we seem like the snake that eats its own tail—we’re causing our own demise and yet we keep cannibalizing ourselves.

Of course, this is only one perspective. While Sandy Hook showed us humanity’s low points, it also showed us how noble and courageous we can be. There was the teacher who, after hiding her students in a closet, bravely defended them from the attacker at the cost of her life. There was another teacher who barricaded herself and her class in a bathroom until the police came. We can’t bring back the 26 people who died, but we are finally having serious, national conversations about gun control and about better care and access to care for the mentally ill and support for their caretakers. For every sensationalistic reporter who’s blamed mental illness for the shooting, I’ve heard at least two people point out that those suffering from mental illness are more likely to be victims of violence than its prepetrators, so we’re also having conversations about the stigma surrounding mental illness. Yes, much of the talk surrounding the shooting is unproductive, but at the same time, we’re also bringing up topics that need to be discussed and dealt with.

And that is, ultimately, why the apocalyptic genre has never really appealed to me. Yes, it has its place. It warns us of our faults and failings and shows us the sides of ourselves that we’d rather not see. But it rarely goes beyond that. It cuts out all of the hard work that needs to be done to truly make this world a better place. It’s lazy. Why worry about greenhouse gases or pollution when we could all be raptured tomorrow? Why advocate for legislation that grants women and people of color and those in the LGBT community equality when the world could end in a week? Why promote a living wage or workers’ rights when the zombie virus is going to infect us any day now? If the aliens are coming next year, do we really need to worry about finding a cure for HIV/AIDS or preventing world hunger? If we are, as a species, inherently destructive, then why should we try to fight our nature and make the world a more equal and just place? Creating change is hard. Waiting for the world to end is easy. I think a part of us is so drawn to stories about the apocalypse simply because ending it all would be so much easier than working slowly and diligently, day by day, to fix what we’ve got.

Yet, every day, so many people are doing just that. From individual random acts of kindness to large-scale social movements, people all over the globe are working to make the world a better place. And change happens. It’s incrimental, of course. It’s not nearly as dramatic as the apocalypse. Instead of basking in the glory of being the lone survivor of the end of the world, it’s building networks and teams of people, putting aside our own desires for the good of those around us. It’s engaging in the daily drugery of community organizing or volunteering or taking the time to listen to a friend’s problems or even just being polite to someone when we’d rather snap at them. It often doesn’t feel like we’re making headway, but we are. Violent crime rates are actually dropping in the U.S., despite what we see on the news. We’ve found cures to diseases that once would’ve been deadly. The idea that women should have the right to the same educational and career opportunities as men was once unheard of. Gays and lesbians can now openly serve in the U.S. military. This is not to say that the world is perfect—far from it—but to point out that change does happen! Society can get better. It happens slowly, but it does happen. And it will continue to happen because of the dedication of ordinary people to doing what they can to improve the world.

At the beginning of this post, I made a little in-joke for other Doctor Who fans. For those not in the know, the Doctor is the humanoid main character from a British television series, Doctor Who, a story about time travel, space travel, and the better nature of humanity. I doubt that we will ever see zombies in Doctor Who. Yes, the show has featured antagonists that are zombie-like, but they tend to be comical and easily defeated. I don’t think that we will ever see the Doctor facing down an unstoppable zombie horde like the mass of Zacks in World War Z  because zombies simply cannot exist in the same universe that contains the Doctor.

Here’s what I mean: zombie stories, like other apocalyptic stories, rest on the assumption that humanity and this world that we’ve created for ourselves is ultimately ruined. Humanity is corrupt, we’ve devastated the world, and there’s nothing left to do but end it all. But there are other stories, stories like Doctor Who (and The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter and Star Wars and Star Trek and so many others from countless time periods and cultures), that believe in the better nature of humanity. These stories tell us that we are brave and strong and smart and that we can ultimately progress toward building a better world. They tell us that ordinary people can create change, that we can perservere and make the world a more equal and just place, and that over time, even the smallest gestures and efforts can build into something significant. Out of tragedy, they tell us, we can rally together and, through our hard work and better nature, we can create change. Even in the wake of something as terrible as a shooting at an elementary school, we can believe that people really are good. We can create a world that brings out the best in humanity and where troubled young people get the help that they need instead of resorting to violence and where everyone feels safe enough and supported by the social system that surrounds them so they don’t feel the need to own guns.

We can sit around and dismiss humanity and the world as not worth bettering. We can give and wait for an apocalypse to wipe us all out and do nothing. We can look at all of the problems in the world and say that there’s nothing we can do and nothing is worth fixing. Or we can say with the Doctor, “The human race just keeps on going—keeps on changing. Life will out!” But we have to act. We have to make that change happen. It isn’t easy, but it’s ultimately worth the work.

For Whose Entertainment?: Images of BDSM in Pop Music, Part 3

(I would rather be safe than sorry about TRIGGER WARNINGS. So, just so the reader is aware, the following series will contain discussions of the bondage/discipline/domination/submission/sadism/masochism (BDSM) subculture and sex positive feminism. While the series contains no descriptions of graphic or violent sex, if any of these topics might disturb you, please refrain from reading it.)

Part 1 discusses BDSM generally. Part 2 looks at common depictions of BDSM in popular music videos and why these depictions are problematic.

For YOUR Entertainment: A Positive Pop Depiction of BDSM  

The video and lyrics of  Adam Lambert’s “For Your Entertainment” begin innocuously enough. We are first presented with a typical city street, and then the camera moves below the concrete, where we find ourselves in a basement club. Lambert, weilding a wicked black cane and dressed in a black leather trenchcoat, is entering the club with an entourage. In the background, the bass beat is emphasized with a sound like the cracking of a whip. These are the accessories of BDSM, but pop has borrowed them so often that they are hardly worth noticing. As he enters the club, Lambert sings, “So hot! Out the box!/Can we pick up the pace?/Turn it up! Heat it up!/I need to be entertained.” We are, so we believe, in a typical pop video. It might have a dark and shady atmosphere, but we expect that we will be subjected to nothing more than images of singing and dancing while we hear lyrics about having a good time.

The song and video both take a sudden turn, however, when Lambert glares at the camer and declares, “I’mma hurt ya real good, baby!” This is unexpected. The declaration has a rawness, an honesty, that is rare in pop depictions of BDSM. Even Rhianna’s “S&M” is more light and flirty, presenting Rhianna as a naughty girl who’s up for anything. Lambert, however, lays bare the message of the song and the video. The line contains the contradiction of BDSM play. Yes, it can hurt, but it is also a good kind of pain, a pain that the bottom wishes to experience and the top wishes to give. This is the good kind of pain, not the pain of mental illness or bad press, which are not consensual.

The lyrics continue with the sort of lines one would associate with a top. “Let’s go! It’s my show! Baby, do what I say,” he commands, establishing his control. But the control is not just for his own pleasure. “I’mma hold you down until you’re amazed,” he sings. The amazement that he references his bottom feeling suggests that his actions are not purely for the sake of inflicting pain (or shock value) so much as they are to please his bottom. Later in the song he adds, “I’mma work you ‘til you totally blow!” reinforcing the idea that the play is ultimately about what that the bottom recieves and the top gives. The second verse reinforces this idea, when he sings, “It’s all right. You’ll be fine. Baby, I’m in control.” For many bottoms, the appeal of being dominated is not necessarily pain itself but the sensation of being controlled completely by another person. In fact, plenty of forms of BDSM play do not involve pain. The line and its reassurences also underly the trust that must exist between a top and a bottom. To place himself in a top’s control, the bottom must trust that ultimately, he will be all right, that the top will respect his limits and stop when they are reached. Whatever actions are inflicted, a top will ultimately be concerned for the welfare of the bottom, as the lyrics reflect.

The song continues to reinforce the idea that BDSM play is not about mindlessly inflicting pain in the chorus, which repeats, “I’m here for your entertainment.” This simple line expresses the complex relationship of power that exists between the top and the bottom. On the surface and in the context of the play, the top holds all of the power and control. The top may inflict pain, bind or gag the bottom, or command the bottom to obey him. However, at the heart of the play, the bottom holds his own power. After all, the top must respect the bottom’s limits, and with one word, the bottom can bring an end to the whole scene. Nothing happens in the scene without the bottom’s consent. In a way, the top is in service to the bottom as much as the bottom is in service to the top. The top, after all, is there for the bottom’s entertainment, just as the bottom is there for the top’s entertainment. Despite all of his words about control, Lambert, in the chorus, ultimately recognizes that as a top, he does not hold all of the power and another power is held by the one he controls.

In this picture of BDSM, fulfillment, pleasure, and satisfaction are mutual. The bottom desires to be controlled and the top desires to control. The play is not that of a superior overpowering an inferior but of two collaboraters in a game of mutual desire and satisfaction. (This is perhaps what we would all like to have in our relationships and sex, be they vanilla or BDSM.) The BDSM play is just that—play. It is based on mutual understandings of consent and of the acts that will take place. Each partner takes his or her role, based on his or her desires and not on society’s dictums of their gender. (Traditionally, women are expected to be submissive in their relationships with men while men are expected to take control, even if these roles do not fit the individuals who are expected to play them out.) At the end of BDSM what has just taken place is a play, a scene. It has been acted out and no one has really been harmed without their consent.

The dancing in the music video “For Your Entertainment” reinforce this idea of play and mutual consent.. No violence is actually shown, and the control that Lambert as a top exercises is visualized through dance. He controls the other dancers with the movements of his cane, almost like a director conducting a band. They are working together to create something, and while Lambert might be in control, each member of the scene is equally important in its creation. There is no devaluing or debasing of his female bottoms. In another scene, the backup dances cling to him, supporting themselves on him, until he pushes them away. Before they fall, he catches them by their throats, and then rights them in a matter of seconds. The image is something like a trust fall, in which one person holds her body still and falls backward while her partner catches her. The control that Lambert exercises indicates that he is capable of preventing his bottoms from coming to real harm. He will simulate dangerous situations—part of what a top does for his bottoms—but will not let them undergo pain that they do not want. The action is also stylized in the form of a dance. It is a collaboration between the top and his bottoms. They are creating something together that they could not create alone, reinforcing the idea of mutual satisfaction in BDSM play.

The images of the video also emphasize the idea of play. In between the dancing, there are shots of people in the underground club. They smile and laugh at each other, even when they are wearing blinders and other BDSM gear. Everything happening here is all happening as play, they seem to say. This is not something serious. This is a scene we’re acting out. When it’s all over, we’ll walk away unharmed. The music video is an inversion of everything that pop music usually presents BDSM to be, and in presenting that inversion, it shows BDSM to be what it ideally is. The club, underground and filled with snakes and palms, suggests a kind of Eden, but an Eden in which Lambert, on his throne and dressed in his black corset, rules as a sort of Satanic king. The apple of knowledge, however, in this Eden, does not bring death but instead an understanding of what BDSM and consent really are—a kind of play, a kind of trust that people in both the BDSM and vanilla communities can support.

“Let Me Entertain You ‘Til You Scream!”: BDSM as Performer-Audience Power Plays

Not only does the “For Your Entertainment” video present BDSM in a more accurate light than other pop music videos, it also uses BDSM to illustrate the complex power relations between the performer and the audience. After all, the song is titled “For Your Entertainment,” and as a pop singer, Lambert is an entertainer. His job is to sing in front of thousands of people and entertain them with his music. The video ends with him not as a dancing top or a master on a throne but as a singer on a stage, performing for everyone in the club.

Just as a top in a BDSM relationship or scene appears to have total control but control is also in the hands of the bottom, so a pop singer on a stage appears to have control over his audience. He can tell them to put their hands in the air, and they will. He can command them to jump and dance, and they will do so. He can ask them to sing along with him or he can initiate calls-and-responses. The audience seems ready to follow his every command. They scream their love and adoration for him. Their applause after each song is thunderous. He appears to have great power, for he can envoke almost fearfully strong emotions in his fans and make them obey his commands.

However, in the pop singer-fan relationship, the fans have a subtle power that is not immediately recognized, much like the power of the bottom. Yes, they might appear to be under the control of the singer, but he is just as much under their control as they are under his. They are, after all, the ones who allow him to continue being a pop singer. They buy albums, download his singles, and pay for concert tickets. They view his televion appearances and buy magazines that feature interviews with him. Their money and their attention allow him to continue being a pop sensation. As such, they have power in this relationship too, and the singer is just as beholden to them as they are to him. They consent to listen to his songs and buy his music. If they were to lose interest and stop buying, the pop game, as it were, would stop. Like the bottom, they have the power to initiate the play and the power to stop it. While power may seem to lie with the performer, ultimately, the fans are in control.

One could be cynical about the pop singer-fan relationship (It’s reliance on capitalism and a music industry that is often more interested in maintaining the status quo to make money instead of using its music to promote social change are particularly suspect.), but the video does not take this view. Just as the top-bottom relationship is a kind of play, a collaboration, so too is the pop singer-fan relationship. They come together to create an event, the performance, the spectacle of pop. Pop, with all its glamour, is nothing without people to pay attention to it. The music is meaningless if no one will hear it. The singer and the fan each have their power, annd each use it to contribute to the play. At the end of the video, the concert that takes place would be impossible without Lambert and it would be impossible without the fans. He wants to sing, to perform, and they want to hear him sing, to watch his performance. Both get the satisfaction of experiencing what they want and in doing so, they come togethr to create a concert.

But I’m Still Not Satisfied: Some Problems and Conclusions

While “For Your Entertainment” is a better depiction of BDSM than is usually found in pop, it is not perfect. Someone who understands the underlying ideas of BDSM or an astute viewer of the video would probably see it as a positive depiction of BDSM or at least as a message of mutual collaboration. An ignorant or less-than-observant viewer, however, could easily mistake the lyrics and miss the message that the play is, ultimately, about mutual satisfaction between the top and bottom. The lyrics could be interpreted as someone insisting that his partner will enjoy his control eventually, despite the partner’s protests. While I think a close inspection of the lyrics resists that interpretation, most audiences of pop music will probably not listen too closely and could easily miss the point. As I have shown, BDSM culture is full of paradoxes and contradictions—the bottom is not in control yet also has control—that are not easily or intuitively grasped. Many viewers could easily miss this message.

My other source of discontent in the video comes from the queer nature of BDSM. BDSM, even when it is between a heterosexual man and woman, is ultimately queer because it is not the normal and largely accepted sexual script that society presents. Instead of fitting individuals into roles of submissive and dominant based on their gender, BDSM allows individuals to be themselves and decide for themselves if they want to be dominant, submissive, or a mixture of both. Because it is outside of mainstream sexuality and because it rejects traditional gender roles, BDSM is queer.

Adam Lambert is also queer. Despite the strides that have been made in acceptance of homosexuality—he is, at least, openly gay. Elton John had to hide in the closet.—Lambert shows us just how far we still are from the ideals of acceptance and equality. To date, (I admit, I’ve yet to watch any of his new music videos. This may have changed.) none of his music videos have shown him kissing, caressing, or longing for another man. In “Whaddya Want From Me” and “Time for Miracles” he sings exclusively to the camera, to some unnamed and genderless “you” that is left to the imagination of the audience. The video for “If I Had You” employs a similar technique, in which Lambert, surrounded by a forest of dancers, ultimately dances alone. In a television performance, when he kissed another man, there was a large conservative outcry. Such behavior, between a man and a woman, would be considered tame compared to what is shown on many sit coms, but when such behavior is between two men, society still sees it as deviant.

Even in a song and video about sexuality that exists outside the mainstream, “For Your Entertainment,” Lambert’s sexuality is referenced only on the periphery. He is primarily shown being stroked and caressed by women. There are a few men who adore him as well, but the camera does not focus on them and they are portrayed as almost androgynous. He sings mostly to the camera, to genderless “you” that the audience can construct to suit its own politics. In a song and video celebrating queer sexual practices—“queer” as in “outside the mainstream.” I am not suggesting that all homosexuals practice BDSM.—Lambert ought to be able to express his own sexual preferences more openly. Unfortunately he must cover up his “deviant” sexuality in order to appear acceptable.

Despite its flaws, “For Your Entertainment” is perhaps one of most accurate depiction of BDSM in pop music. It reveals the important values of BDSM subculture—consent, trust, and mutual play. These are values that those in the vanilla community can certainly agree with, and by presenting BDSM as it is and not merely for shock value, the video paves the way for other accurate depictions of BDSM that could lead to a larger conversation about consent, open discussion about sex, and power relations in both BDSM and vanilla relationships. By opening up these conversations, we can perhaps build a more sex-positive society in which all sexualities and preferences and respected and adult, informed consent is paramount to all relationships.

Some Thoughts on Job Searching

So, on a personal note, I’ve been job searching this summer. I had a temporary retail position, but I’ve had to quit that since my lease is up soon and unless something pans out, it looks like I’m going to be moving in with my parents at the end of the month. I’m really not happy about that. Don’t get me wrong, my parents are great people, and through their influence I became the inquisitive, thoughtful critical thinker that I am today (even if it didn’t quite turn out the way they expected). I had just hoped that once I graduated and finished school, I’d be able to live on my own, pay for my own things, and generally be independent.

One of the many problems with job searching is that it requires a lot of introspection. I write an individual cover letter for every job I apply for, which means that for each job, I spend a lot of time thinking about what makes me qualified, what experiences I’ve had that I can bring to the job, and why my background makes me a good fit for this organization or that company. I find myself second-guessing my past a lot. Should I have bothered with a Master’s degree? With only a couple exceptions, the jobs that I’m looking at and am qualified for don’t require one. The Master’s seemed like a good idea at the time…(This was when I really thought I wanted to teach English at the college level and stay in school forever. Graduate school quickly cured me of that.) I also second-guess my internships. Yes, they lead me to realizing that I want to go into non-profit communications and, yes, they are better than no job experience on my resume at all. But they were both with very niche organizations that espouse ideological values that, to some, could be controversial. Okay, I interned with feminist and atheist—erherm, “secular humanist”—organizations. In many ways, I don’t regret these internships because I loved working for them, met some amazing people, and had some wonderful (and practical) experiences. But I do wonder if I should’ve done something safe (and maybe paid?) and less controversial. It was a little awkward when I realized I was applying for a communications position at a Catholic university and nearly all of my writing samples are pro-LGBT rights or pro-abortion. (I didn’t get that job. No surprises there.) I’ve always prided myself as someone who stays true to her values, holds out for the best that she can get, and doesn’t take the easy road. But it was a lot easier to be that sort of person when I was in school, which I’m realizing is a very controlled environment that has little bearing on life in the real world, and when I didn’t have health problems to worry about.

This introspection has also made me realize that as I applied for and worked in these internship positions, and pretty much every job I’ve ever had, I kind of fell into them without really understanding what I was getting into. When I applied to intern with a feminist non-profit in Washington, D.C., I didn’t think, “This is an experience that will build a foundation for my future career goals!” I thought, “Everyone else is doing summer internships. I should do a summer internship. Ooo! Feminism and writing! I like those! I’ll apply for that!” The internship with the secular humanist organization was a bit more calculated. It was a a resume builder and fall-back in the event that I didn’t get a paid summer job. But I still didn’t really see it as something that would affect my future. I think I had this attitude because, at the time, I saw myself as a student. In the end, I figured, the internships would be over in August and I would go back to school. School was what I focused on most. Now I’m realizing that, in terms of jobs experience, the portfolio that I built with these organizations matters much, much more than my degrees.

Ultimately, because of that portfolio, I really don’t regret my internships. I also don’t regret them because they were experiences in which I grew not only intellectually but also personally and emotionally. Sure, I wasn’t getting paid, but the intrinsic value that comes from working on projects that I felt excited about, from not just feeling but knowing that I was making the world a better place, and from meeting people that shared my interests and passion more than made up for the dent in my back account. (And, yes, I realize that I was privileged to be able to spend my summers working for free. I’m not denying that I got where I am today at least in part because of that privilege. And one of the reasons why I want to work with non-profits is so that I can extend that privilege to the many, many people who deserve but don’t have access to opportunities that people like me have.) At the time, even though I didn’t fully understand how those internships would play out, I’m ultimately glad that I did them.

And now I have two upcoming interviews, and in my over-thinking fashion, I’m wondering how they’re going to pan out and what that will mean for my future, because at this point, I don’t have school waiting for me at the end of the summer. Both of the interviews are with non-profits whose missions I care about. One is in a city about six hours away from where I currently live, doesn’t pay well even for non-profits, but does offer full benefits. Though I’ve spent the past year whining about how much I can’t stand my current location, as I’m starting to think seriously about moving, I’m kind of bulking at the prospect. I wouldn’t know anyone and I’m not sure what I’d do if my carpal tunnel flares up before my health benefits kick in. On the other hand, this is the best job I’ve had a shot at so far. The second interview is for a paid, part-time internship position. Even if I got a second job, I’d still probably have to live with my parents, a prospect I’m not thrilled with. However, it would only be until the end of the year, by which point, I’d hopefully have had a chance to network with other non-profits and maybe, maybe land a full time job. Also, hopefully, by then I’d have this damned carpal tunnel sorted out and in the meantime, I’d still be close to my doctor and physical therapist. I’m realizing that, however this situation plays out, I’m probably going to just fall into something again without fully realizing the consequences until it’s too late to back out.

I’m trying to convince myself that it’s okay not to know what the future holds. All I can ask of myself is that I make the best decision I can with the information that I have right now. (And to calm down, because I haven’t even been offered either of these positions yet! I’m just being interviewed!) I’ve fallen into things in the past—undergrad, jobs, internships, grad school—and overall I’m happy with the way they turned out and how I dealt with them. The same thing will happen in my current job situation. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason or that there is some cosmic greater plan. I do, however, believe that we ourselves give a reason and a meaning to everything that happens. I’ve managed to give meaning to many of my past experiences, like my internships. However, I have other past experiences, like going to graduate school, that I regret. (Maybe in a few years, when I have more perspective on it, I won’t regret it. Who knows?) Right now, I’m hoping that however my job search turns out, I end up with more meaning than regrets.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that life is unpredictable, and while I know that, sometimes it’s hard to come to terms with, especially when I’m used to being in school, where everything has a nice, easy rubric to follow and results are guaranteed. On a more theory-related note, I watched my first Quentin Tarantino film this weekend and I have some thoughts on it. I’ve also read a serious, academic book related to current political and social issues. So, stay tuned for more serious posts coming later this week!