The Big Phallus Theory: The Big Bang Theory, Nerd Culture, and Women

(While I tried to avoid them, you may find some SPOILERS for The Big Bang Theory in this post.)

 

One of my favorite sitcoms is The Big Bang Theory. While the show is not always strong on plot and rarely portrays life in academia accurately, its likeable characters and nearly unending stream of insider gags for nerds make it an entertaining means of spending half an hour. I love Leonard, the everyman. I enjoy Sheldon’s elevated dialogue. And I can both sympathize with and laugh at Howard and Raj’s awkwardness. I also appreciate that it features a smart, sensible heroine, Penny, who isn’t afraid to assert herself and can talk back to the guys.

What I can’t stand is that, like most of nerd culture and the wider culture, the show often reeks of sexism. Some of it, like Howard’s frequent lewd comments that reduce women to sex objects, I can ignore. Indeed, if I restricted myself only to popular culture that presents women as nothing less than fully realized human beings, I’d probably never be able to watch another movie or television show again. I’ve become so used to explicit sexism, in the form of derogatory comments about women, in my media diet that, I confess, I often recognize it and then choose to ignore it. It’s one of the patriarchal bargains I make as a feminist and a woman living in a culture that recognizes my gender’s worth only in so far as it meets certain standards of sexiness, attractiveness, and compliance. What does bother me about the show that I haven’t been able to ignore so easily is the implicit sexism in the lack of female nerd characters.

Seriously, where are the women nerds? I see them everywhere in real life. They attend conventions, they go to the movies, they cosplay, they talk about Star Wars and Star Trek  and play Skyrim and Dungeons & Dragons. They consist of the majority of people that I know and I’d say nearly all of my female friends are nerds. I know women who can code websites, quote Lord of the Rings, act out scenes from Doctor Who, recite the noble gases and their atomic weights, and kick your ass in Call of Duty. Why are these women not represented, or even acknowledged, in The Big Bang Theory? I’m not even asking why they aren’t main characters–though a show about four female nerdy friends would be awesome and so much more entertaining than Sex and the City–so much as I’m wondering why, in the show’s universe, they don’t even seem to exist.

Well, one might point out, what about Amy and Bernadette? Perhaps, in the strictest sense of the term “nerd,” someone who is brilliantly smart and obsessives over even the tiniest minutiae of something, Amy and Bernadette are nerds. They’re both smart, they’re both biologists, and they both have Ph.D.s. To give credit where credit is due, just a few decades ago it would have been unthinkable to have not one, but two women characters in the S.T.E.M. fields on a television show. However, Amy and Bernadette are still ultimately defined in the show by their relationships with their male significant others. They are judged, and often found wanting, by their ability or inability to meet cultural standards of attractiveness, and they do no participate in what has come to be the domains of nerd culture–things like comic books, science fiction shows and movies, and video games. There are no women regularly featured in the show who enjoy these pursuits, even though such women exist in real life.

In real life, however, nerd culture often has just as much, if not more, of a problem with sexism than The Big Bang Theory does. While The Big Bang Theory ignores nerd women and pretends that they don’t exist, real life nerd culture can be downright hostile toward women attempting to claim the identity of “nerd.”  Whether its people accusing women of only pretending to be nerds in order to hook up with guys or creating the “Idiot Nerd Girl” meme that I’ve attempted to reclaim in this post, a lot of guys seem to want women out of their conventions, their role playing games, and their Internet spaces. But why? The most obvious answer is sexism, but it would be too simple to leave it at that, so I’m going to dig a little deeper.

Though the cultural perception of nerds is changing, it is still largely a negative one, as evidenced by the male main characters on The Big Bang Theory. All of them, in some way, have failed to live up to to our culture’s unrealistic and burdensome ideals of masculinity. None of them are physically strong. Neither are they particularly attractive. They know little of sports. They aren’t charismatic or suave or charming. They aren’t physically or emotionally tough. They prefer the comforts of their apartments to the outdoors. Nerdy men are, as the show and the wider culture seem to suggest, not masculine. The show has frequently paired short, wimpy Leonard with Penny’s tall, dark and handsome beaus to make this point. Leonard, Sheldon, Howard, and Raj could often be better described as “feminine” than masculine. There is, however, one group that is lower than nerds on the social hierarchy: women. Whatever male nerds are, they are still more masculine (and thus higher on the hierarchy of patriarchal culture) than women. But when women start entering nerd spaces–and demanding an equal right to be there and be recognized as nerds–they challenge the modicum of masculinity that nerd culture has been able to salvage for itself. They also challenge the perception of women, within both nerd culture and the wider culture, as nothing more than accessories that convey masculinity, and thus worth, on a man. (Think about how, when Howard was first dating Bernadette, he worried that she wasn’t good-looking enough. An attractive girl conveys to society that there is something “manly” or “masculine” about the man she is dating, thus increasing his worth in the eyes of patriarchal culture.)

I think there is a place for women in nerd culture, and I’m sure that women will continue to attend cons, play video games, and go to special screenings of Star Wars. Just as women have fought, and are still fighting, for their right to inhabit the biology labs and physics departments where Bernadette and Amy have managed to reside, I suspect that women will continue to exist in nerd spaces and gradually gain acceptance there. I also suspect that, as nerd culture continues to grow within the mainstream, the stereotype of nerd men as less than masculine will diminish.

However, just because the stereotype of nerds as feminine may disappear does not mean that sexism within nerd culture will necessarily end. Though I would be very glad to see our culture expand its definitions of masculinity beyond its currently narrow confines, I suspect that this will do very little to challenge the standards of beauty to which women, even nerdy women, are held, both inside and outside of nerd culture. Maleness, I still sadly suspect, will still be privileged within nerd culture, in part because nerd culture is inherently exclusionary. To be a nerd, it helps to be male. It also helps to be white, cisgender, and educated. I suspect being able-bodied helps too, though I have seen a broader spectrum of ability represented in nerd culture than I have in mainstream culture. It is required that one be at least middle class, as I doubt the working class has the time and money that are necessary to indulge in nerdy pursuits. Gaming systems can be incredibly expensive, as are books, DVDs, and high-speed Internet connections. One must also have the leisure time to master the games and fantasy worlds present in nerd media. Sadly, in many ways, nerds are often primarily defined by what they consume.

I would like to think that nerd culture is smart enough to look at its own privilege and try to include a wider range of people. After all, many of us nerds define ourselves by our inability to fit in, our difference from mainstream society, and our stories of bullying and rejection. Perhaps we could use those experiences to sympathize with those whom society bullies and rejects. Until more nerds are willing to make this effort and look beyond their own privilege, however, I suspect that nerd culture will largely remain another old boys club.

Malls on My Mind

There’s something incredibly monstrous and yet incredibly soothing about strip malls.

There’s one Midwestern strip mall in particular that I like. Like many others, it’s quite a large strip mall–large enough to require its own street signs, and it’s located near other shopping plazas, making the entire area around it a sort of shrine to capitalism. In any one direction, looking out at the horizon, all a person can see are shops.

So it’s quite ironic that all of the times that I’ve been to this particular mall, I’ve had no money. The first time I was there was on a weekend during the summer. The mall was packed with people and I was overwhelmed with the size and architecture of the place. I’ve been to lots of strip malls. I’ve even been to strip malls larger than this particular one, but I’d never been to a strip mall built to resemble small-town America. Or, rather, built to resemble someone’s idea of small town America. In my four years as an undergraduate, I lived in small-town America, and it left me with a strong impression of just how poor people can really be and just how difficult getting a job with barely a high school education can be. In fact, I was living in that small town over the summer and making a small amount of money as a tutor at a program for international students. I’d gotten a year-round taste of just how poor small-town America can be. There was none of the opulence of this mall. None of the wealth. I was overcome with the crowds of people rushing in and out of stores and restaurants. All around me there were Things To Buy: Calvin Klein, Michael Kors, Chanel, Gucci, Coach, Prada. I was also captivated by the ambiance. The stores were all designed to resemble old houses, the streets were lined with street lamps, and there was a mural of white people in Victorian dress riding a trolley. Red telephone boxes sat on the street corners between shops. There were speakers hidden in trees that played music! I felt like I was in a grown-up’s Disney World.

The second time I was at this mall, I was again a broke undergraduate. I was there briefly with a couple of friends when we stopped to pick up some dinner at the Cheesecake Factory nearby. We had come from a Renaissance Festival and were dressed in corsets, long skirts, and boots. We were dressing up in a dressed up town, playing pretend in a pretend town. We were a modern day idea of the Renaissance in a modern day idea of some nostalgic past between the Victorian era and the 1950s. At the time we attracted a lot of stares and strange looks, (a group of tourists was even trying to covertly take out picture) but looking back, we fit right in.

On my third and most recent trip to to this mall, I stopped on my way from a job fair in the area. The job fair had an air of desperation about it. I arrived half an hour early and already a crowd of people had formed around the convention center doors. Some people were wearing suits and ties. Others had on khaki and sneakers. Some had on a strange mix of both casual wear and business attire. I saw button-up shirts and vests mixed with jeans and tennis shoes. People clutched their resumes and carefully checked and double-checked their applications for cashier and food service jobs. Some of them couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old. Others could have been my grandparents. No one smiled or chit-chatted. Instead, they scurried from booth to booth with their eyebrows furrowed and their jaws clenched. Everyone was there because they needed a job–any job!

As soon as I set foot in the mall, however, I felt the mixture of grim determination and despair fade away. There were Things to Buy. How bad could the world be? Even though I couldn’t afford any of the beautiful clothes or cookware that beckoned to me from the windows, I felt comforted to see them. Someday, I thought, someday I will be able to afford all of this. I’ll have my own kitchen that I can stock with ceramic pots and I’ll have a walk-in closet that I can fill with designer suits. I’ll have the money to buy a car and drive out to a place like this for lunch and cocktails with friends. Never mind that I’m planning to make a pittance in non-profit communications. Never mind that I don’t even really care about designer brands. Never mind that I have my own perfectly serviceable cookware.

The mall offered up a dream, and it was a dream that I wanted to live in for a while. I walked up and down the streets. I watched a young man wash the hot pink walls of a Victoria Secret store, which featured large posters of busty, skinny, blond models with flawless skin. I marveled at the neo-Classical fountains, featuring cherubs and Greek god figures, and wondered how they looked so at home next to the Tiffany’s store, designed to resemble a 1950’s-era bank. I saw the local police and the mall security circling the center fountain and felt secure, knowing that I was being watched over. At the mall edge, dwarfed by an enormous XXI Forever store, was a small, nondescript building labeled “Community Center Room.” It seemed so bland in comparison to the colorful, bright ads that surrounded it that I hardly noticed it. I enjoyed the perfectly cultivated trees and flowers, especially the exotic palm trees. Everything looked beautiful and bright and pleasant. It’s fake, but it’s lovely, just like the Photoshopped Victoria Secret model’s poster. I almost forgot about the job fair.

Unfortunately, the job fair is far more real than the manicured streets of the mall. It’s been a couple years since I read Baudrillard, but the word hyperreality kept flitting through my mind as I wandered around the mall.Calvin Klein, Michael Kors, Chanel, Gucci, Coach, Prada.  Simulacra. A simulacrum is, if I’m remembering my postmodernism correctly, a sign without a referent. It harkens back to an original that never existed. The rosy glow of an American small town that never was is being invoked in the mall’s nostalgic streets. Hyperreality is a reality that is so mediated by technology–radio, television, the Internet–that people can no longer distinguish between what is real and what is mediated to them. A walk through mall is a tightly controlled, mediated experience. The street signs point to shops. Hints at anything to disrupt the illusion are hidden. (I spied a mess of gas pipes hidden behind a black screen painted to look like a garden wall.)

The dream of the mall, is ultimately a lie, I know. The endless luxury, endless leisure, and endless wealth–none of them exist. Its promise is ultimately unrealistic. The merchandise at the mall can only be sold because workers in developing nations are underpaid and overworked, not to mention the underpaid cashiers and sales clerks who work in the mall shops. The location of the mall, accessible only from interstate highways, is also unfeasible. As we approach peak oil and the price of gas rises, driving to such locations, not to mention sending merchandise there by truck, will become increasingly costly. This is not to mention the carbon emissions of these vehicles that increase greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, driving up the temperature of earth’s atmosphere and radically altering the planet’s weather patterns, destroying coastal towns with hurricanes and floods. The visions of endless Things to Buy encourage conspicuous consumption, buying certain products only because they make one seem richer or more sophisticated and not because these products are inherently useful. It also encourages planned obsolescence, creating products only meant to last a few years, only to be thrown away and replaced by new products. The “free market” isn’t free, and the cost will be paid in an unhealthy environment and shrinking middle class by the poorest and those least able to pay those prices.

Logically, I know all of this. I’m critical of the inequalities that capitalism perpetuates. I shun designer brands. I try to use and reuse and recycle. I take public transportation whenever I can. A part of me feels as though I should be disturbed by the mall. It broadcasts cultural messages that I’ve chosen to deconstruct and expose. It upholds outdated ideologies that, I believe, are crushing common people under their teetering weight. But I’m not immune to the messages. I’ve grown up with the ideologies. I’m just as taken in by the simulacra as the next person. Sometimes, I’d like to ignore reality and exist in a space of hyperreality, in which money is endless, resources are endless, and the past was always perfect. So I find the streets of the mall peaceful and calming. I enjoy walking up and down them, staring into the windows, imagining what I would do with new furniture or a stationary set, and for a couple hours, ignoring reality and living in a dream.

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.

Synergia: What is Creative Writing? Part 2

Part 1 appears here.

I flopped onto the red, paisley hotel bedspread and opened my laptop. “Thank god, free wi-fi!” I muttered. The hotel in Washington, D.C., had not provided free  Internet connection. My friend Erinne, Dr. Smith, I, and assorted other students and professors from the English department had been there for the past four days at the Associated Writing Programs conference (AWP), one of the biggest and most prestigious conferences in the creative writing field. Now I was itching to check Facebook and my email.

We’d been held up in Baltimore because of a snowstorm and couldn’t fly back to Detroit until the following morning. So we’d found a hotel—paid for by Dr. Smith’s English department credit card—and were getting ready for dinner, which Dr. Smith and her partner, another professor, had offered to buy. I was planning to enjoy as much of the free food and accomodations as I could before returning to campus, where I would find myself touching up final papers and studying for exams. At least, I thought, I have my capstone out of the way.

“Hey, our grades for our capstones are up!” my friend, Erinne, said, looking up at me from her spot on the other bed, where she sat with her laptop. I watched her scroll for a moment before her face broke into a grin. “Hey! I got an A!”

“Nice! You were great, though. You deserve it,” I said as I waited for my email to load. At the top of my inbox, starred and marked “important,” was an email from our capstone advisor with the subject line “Final Grades.” I eagarly clicked on it.

Dear Em, I wanted to mention this to you in an email so it didn’t surprise you when you read the attached comments from your graders…

What? What’s that? That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound like the comments I usually got on papers. I was a straight-A student. I didn’t get comments like that!

…I wanted to let you know that I don’t think Dr. Smith meant her comments in a hurtful or negative way. I think she was only making an observation about your creative work and your presentation….

Hurtful or negative? What did that mean, “hurtful or negative”? What did Dr. Smith say?

…It was a pleasure having you in the class and you did a fine job on your project and presentation…

I skimmed the rest of the email and then downloaded the attachment. I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breath. What did Dr. Smith say?! I’d always thought Dr. Smith had liked me and my writing. Why would her comments be so ambiguous that they could be construed as hurtful or negative?  I didn’t have to wonder long. The attachment opened and I bit my lip as I read Dr. Smith’s comments.

I believe that, in her heart, Em is not truly a creative writer. I think she is a theorist and an activist who uses her writing to draw attention to issues of social justice.

Not truly a creative writer? Not truly a creative writer?! Since when were creative writers not allowed to write about social issues? I scrolled down the attachment to see what my grade was, but a part of me already knew: seventeen points out of twenty, an eighty-five percent, a solid B.

To many students, this news would be a relief. To me, it was devestating. For three and a half years I’d cultivated my GPA of four-point-oh like a rare rosebush. I’d monitored it constantly, ensuring that it always received just the right amount of care and work. I pruned out imperfections before they festered into problems and prided myself on its beauty and perfection. It was my everything, my best thing. It defined me. And now, like a rot that sank deep into the root, this one missing point had ruined everything. Sure, my GPA was still good, but it was no longer perfect, and for three and half years, perfection had been all that mattered to me.

“That bitch!” I snarled, loudly enough for Erinne to hear. Even though I was still in shock, I wanted some sympathy.

“Huh?” Erinne asked, taking out her earphones.

“That bitch, Smith! She said about my capstone that I’m not a real creative writer!”

Erinne narrowed her eyes. “That’s crazy! Your presentation was so good!”

“Thanks,” I spat. “God, I hate her!”

Erinne nodded.

“And I got a B!”

“Really? But your presentation was better than mine.”

“My GPA is ruined!”

Erinne sighed. “Wow, that sucks. But we’re graduating in a few months, anyway. It’s really not going to matter in the long run.”

“I just…I can’t believe she did that!”

Erinne shrugged and put one of her earphones back in. “Just remember, soon it won’t matter.”

Erinne seemed uninterested in commiserating with me further, so I planned to spend the rest of the evening sulking privately.

However, my self-pity was quickly interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Hey, guys! It’s Alex!” a friend of Erinne’s and mine called. “Dr. Smith and the rest of us are ready to go to dinner. You coming?”

Erinne took out her earphones and hopped off her bed. “You coming?”

I sighed.

“It’s free,” Erinne reminded me.

“I guess…”

* * *

What is creative writing? To a roommate who was a brilliant writer but who claimed she was  uncreative, I used to say that all writing is creative. And in a way, it is. All writing, from the worst fan-fiction story to Shakespeare’s masterpieces is creative in the sense that it is choosing words and putting them in an order that has never before been formed. From there, these sentences are arranged in a way in which they are unlikely to ever be arranged again. In the sense that all writing is forming something new, all writing is creative.

There is also, I would argue, a creativity in critical and analytical writing, particularly in the fields of poststructuralism and deconstruction, fields that I learned to love from my old professor, Dr. Smith. Say what you want about Derrida. He’s esoteric, dense, reflexive, and performative. But he is also creative. No one wrote theory like Derrida, and those that have tried it since usually just end up copying him instead of forging new ground. Derrida was a theorist, yes, but there’s also something poetic about his theory. He was—dare I say it!—a creative writer.

There is also, again I would argue, an element of social justice in many creative works in the so-called “canon.” Toni Morrison is praised for her rich characters and lyrical prose, but her stories also often center around the plight of African-American girls growing up in a culture that snubs their beauty and their minds. Is Toni Morrison a creative writer? You’d be hard-pressed to find a critic who’d say she isn’t. Is she an activist for social justice? Of course! She’s been very open, both in her novels and her public speeches, about her fight against racism. Does categorizing her as one—an author or an activist—negate the other? Of course not!

I often find myself drawn to writers who straddle the line, if there is any line to begin with, between social critics and creative writers. David Sedaris might make his readers laugh out loud, but he also subtly draws our attention to the U.S.’s class pretentions and cultural insensitivity. Judith “Jack” Halberstam, a professor of cultural studies who has written many books about the intersections between homophobia and capitalism, writes in a critical style that has been described as “playful,” but which I find poetic. Ani DiFranco plays guitar and sings lyrics about gender and class inequalities. The creativity, for this diverse array of people, is in how they compose their message through well-placed words and well-formed sentences. The subject matter, at worst, certainly does not detract from the superior writing. At best, it enhances the writing, allowing the writing itself to perform the message of the text. The reader isn’t merely told the message through a direct statement—“homophobia is bad”—or through the actions of a main character—Sedaris goes to France and doesn’t find the stereotypes he expected. The writing itself becomes an element of the message. (Ani DiFranco places her message within the legacy of a folk tradition, which her musical style and lyrics reflect.)

This isn’t an idea that I came up with myself. I actually learned it in my four years as an undergraduate creative writing major at a small, Midwestern university. I idolized my creative writing professors, and in doing so, I not only absorbed their wisdom regarding the craft of writing but also their social and political awareness. They wrote poems and novels and short stories, but they also read Foucault and were just as likely to talk about power and the panopticon in class as they were punctuation. They loved writing and words but they also had a sense of responsibility to the broader culture of which they were a part. One of my professors wrote creative nonfiction pieces about the impoverished American Indian reservation where he’d previously taught. Another professor was very open about her role in exposing a serial date rapist after a number of her female students had come to her for guidance and compassion after being assaulted. These were people who’s teaching I loved, whose creative works I respected, and whose social awareness I wanted to emmulate. I didn’t see any conflict between their creative writing and their activism.

Honestly, I still don’t.

The third and final installment of this piece appears here.

For Whose Entertainment?: Images of BDSM in Pop Music, Part 2

(TRIGGER WARNING: 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.)

I began the first part of this series a while back, and even though I’d finished it, I never got around to publishing it. This isn’t to say that I didn’t do anything with it. The ideas in the drafts of the blog posts actually turned into an academic paper, which I wrote in a pop culture class. However, I hate it when bloggers start a series and never conclude it, so I figured I’d post what I’ve got, just to round out the series.

Pain Without Pleasure: Typical Presentations of BDSM in Popular Culture

Certain accoutrements of BDSM have become so commonplace within pop culture that they are hardly noticeable. Corsets, fishnets, combat boots, and leather jewelry may be worn by pop artists, and while they look “bad ass” or “edgy,” viewers will probably not associate them with BDSM. Occasionally, however, pop artists will bring more explicit images of BDSM into their music videos. While I think that these images are somewhat problematic, I think they can also be used to comment on the music industry itself, which is full of dominants and submissives of its own, though these relationships are often based on money and not mutual consent. BDSM in pop music videos can be a way to comment on power—who has it and who wants it? Unfortunately, in these images, the importance of consent in the BDSM community can easily be lost.

Perhaps when thinking of BDSM in pop music, the first song that comes to mind is Rihanna’s “S&M.” After all, the title itself contains a reference to sadism/masochism. However, Rihanna has an earlier song, “Disturbia,” which also uses images of BDSM, though the song itself does not specifically refer to BDSM in any way. Most interpretations of the song, in fact, reference it to being about mental illness, specifically panic attacks or depression. In the song, Rihanna sings about feeling as though she’s going insane. She is oppressed by emotions that she cannot control, so much so that she believes she is in another world, a disturbing and frightening world in which she has no power.

The video situates these feelings of helplessness in the context of BDSM. The video shows Rihanna bound, trapped in a cage, and wearing clothing and makeup that are traditionally coded as part of the BDSM community—dark, heavy eyeliner, black corsets, and thick black boots. The dark make up and macabre imagery also bring to mind the goth subculture, an important feature of the video, as African-Americans are rarely portrayed as part of the goth subculture (or the BDSM subculture, for that matter), and even those African-Americans who do take part in those subcultures can feel alienated and estranged because they do not see people who look like them traditionally represented as being in those subcultures.

The BDSM suggestions of the video might be there for shock value, but I believe their purpose is larger than mere sensationalism. If the song is indeed about mental illness, then it is, on some level, a song about power and control. Someone suffering from mental illness may very well feel that her life is spinning out of control, that she is prisoner in her own mind. She has no other choice than to submit to the dominance of the mental illness. While this is certainly an interesting observation about the difficulties of suffering from mental illness, it is still an inaccurate representation of BDSM. One does not consent to mental illness. Mental illness recognizes no safe words or limits. It is a situation that happens, regrettably, to an individual. As such, while the BDSM imagery may make an interesting commentary about the powerlessness felt by those who suffer from mental illness, nothing is added to the cultural understanding of BDSM.

Rihanna’s second song, “S&M,” explicitly mentions BDSM in its lyrics. In them, Rihanna claims “now the pain is my pleasure.” She extolls her enjoyment of naughty sex—“I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it.” The video, however, is not so much about BDSM culture as it is about the turbulent relationships that pop stars have with the media, which is certainly its own kind of power play.

In the video, Rihanna acts as a kind of switch, first being bound in plastic by reporters and then later binding them in duct tape and whipping them. It is certainly an insightful commentary about the relationship between celebrities and the press. The press have the power to reveal information about celebrities or spin situations involving them in unflattering ways, which can leave celebrities feeling powerless. At the same time, however, celebrities have the power to create news, leaving the media at their mercy and waiting for their next outrageous stunt. However, in both forms of these relationships, the relationships of power and control are certainly not consensual and are more the result of our capitalist news market and entertainment industry than personal preference and desire for fulfillment. While the video does much to bring to light the power plays between celebrities and the media, it misrepresents the BDSM community.

Another video that features BDSM play is Christina Aguilera’s “Not Myself Tonight.” The video features images of Aguilera bound and gagged, as well as dressed in rubber and dancing with a crop. She also kisses a woman whose hands are tied above her head, and crawls on all fours, catlike, toward a bowl of milk.

In many ways, the video performs the chorus: “I’m not myself tonight.”, Aguilera borrows costumes and dance moves from other pop singers, including Madonna, Britney Spears, and Lady Gaga. I would also like to add that there is nothing inherently wrong with the BDSM images presented in the video. There is little real violence or harm displayed in them, and they are probably there for shock value more than anything. From the perspective of someone who understood the underlying ideas of BDSM—informed consent by willing adults—they would be harmless, more or less. However, most viewers probably do not have a background understanding of BDSM, and so the images of rough sex, group sex (perhaps even the playing out of a rape fantasy?), and bondage are not seen in their proper context. The video presents the message that rough sex, scary sex, perhaps even nonconsensual sex, is sexy. This is, unfortunately, not the message of BDSM.

With all the pop videos misrepresenting BDSM, even those that do so to make a comment about power and control, are there any that do BDSM right? Positive, accurate depictions of BDSM are few and far between; almost nonexistent in popular culture. However, there is one song and its accompanying music video that give a relatively accurate and even positive depiction of the BDSM subculture. Adam Lambert’s “For Your Entertainment” presents both lyrics and a video that capture the nuances of BDSM more accurately than “Disturbia,” “S&M” and “Not Myself Tonight.” At the same time, the song also uses the ideas of power and control in BDSM to comment on the complex relationship between pop performer and audience.

Part 3, the final installment, does a close reading of Adam Lambert’s music video for the song “For Your Entertainment” and gives some concluding thoughts about how BDSM is presented in popular culture.

Synergia: What Is Creative Writing? Part 1

(While I write a lot of critical essays, I also write creatively, mostly poetry and nonfiction. I thought I’d experiment with posting a creative  piece I’m currently working on.)

“It’s sort of like The Great Gatsby, isn’t it? Like Nick Carraway.”

“I’m sorry, sir?” I took a deep breath and tried not to fidgit. I had just presented my undergraduate capstone project, and after giving a dramatic reading of several of my creative nonfiction pieces, which were met with resounding applause from my classmates, my professors were grilling me about my work. If they liked my presentation and felt I answered their questions adequately, then I passed. But if something went wrong, I failed and the past three and half years of hard work to earn my creative writing degree were meaningless.

Dr. Truman ran one of his large, pink hands through his thin thatch of straw hair as he replied. “I mean, the point of view in your pieces. You’re on the outside, always watching everybody, never judging. You’re an observer.”

“Oh, well, yes, I guess so.” I searched for an response, one that would make me sound smart and literary and creative. Then an idea came to me. “But isn’t that our duty as writers—to observe the world around us?”

Fortunately, Dr. Smith came to my defense. “I think, Dr. Truman, if I could just interrupt briefly, that this project is unique because not only does it tell a story but it also attempts to bring critical theory into everyday life through examining life experiences with feminism and queer theory.”

With a new surge of confidence, I continued: “Thank you, Dr. Smith. Exactly! And as critical theorists, it’s also our duty to observe the world as well and point out trends and inequality where we see them.”

Dr. Smith smiled at me. I smiled back.

Dr. Truman nodded and stroked his double chin. “Yes, I think I see that.”

I held back a sigh of relief.

* * *

How does one write creative nonfiction when nothing seems to happen to one? In many of my stories, I find the events of my life building toward a sort of crescendo that never resolves. I almost get into a crazy romance or almost win the lottery, but then these dramatic scenarios never pan out or live up to their tumultuous potential. I’ve traveled, but throughout my journeys to China or England or Germany I’m usually so jet-lagged and so hell-bent on squeezing the most out of the few precious moments I have there that I’m in too much of a sleepy daze to write about my experiences. I also don’t find traveling to be greatly revelatory. I learn things about other cultures or places while I travel, but I rarely learn much about myself.

I’m also not funny, which is almost a prerequisite for being a successful creative nonfiction writer. Either you have to have overcome an addiction or some sort of abusive relationship or you have to be funny. If you have all three and a good agent, you can write a bestseller. Overcoming mental illness is good too, but like most of my experiences, my depression and anxiety have never made for a three part story arc. Instead of being like the lover you meet unexpectedly, spend years with, and finally leave and make peace with, my experiences with mental illness have been more like a day-to-day slog. They’re the lazy roommates that showed up one day and have never left, and I try to work around them as best I can. I expect this is most people’s experience with mental illness, but it doesn’t exactly make for a thrilling memoir, or else we’d all be on the bestseller lists.

What I do have, however, are dramatic, funny friends. And as a creative nonfiction writer, this is the next best thing to being dramatic and funny myself. My friends get into the crazy relationships, triumph against some horrible disease, or make amusing quips, and I go along for the ride. If I’m there when it happens, I figure it’s just as much my story. Right? So I change some names, make up a few details, invent some dialogue, and omit certain identifying particulars, and I have a meaningful, amusing story that I think people will find worth reading. I may only be a supporting character, but I still get to narrate from my own point of view.

It’s also much easier to bring order to someone else’s life than my own. In other people, I don’t see the self doubts, the neuroticism, or the apprehensions. I just see the final product, the front that we all put on to impress the rest of the world. I know it’s a front, but that doesn’t mean I’m not as duped by it as everyone else. I look at people on the bus and think that just because they’re wearing a suit or Gucci pumps they must have life all figured out. Most likely they’re looking at me and, despite my jeans and t-shirt, thinking the same thing. When other people relay their lives to me, I can pick out patterns or romanticize them. In my own life things just seem to happen at the whims of chaos, and I never quite know what I’m getting into until it’s already over. It’s easier to package other people’s lives into neat, tidy stories with a theme and a meaningful ending. My own life never seems to make sense.

Click here for Part 2.

Women Warriors Alone: Kill Bill vol. 1, Lady Gaga, Hyper-Irony, and Feminism

The desert air hangs heavy and hot over the highway asphalt. An enormous, bright yellow truck roars toward the horizon. In the blur of its speed, its only identification comes from two words, painted in pink, on the back of the truck: “Pussy Wagon.”

This description could easily fit either Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill film or Lady Gaga’s music video for the song “Telephone,” which references the film. Put the two together and you have a delightful mess of hyper-irony, a meta-pop culture. Gaga is referencing Tarantino, and Tarantino references, well, a little bit of everything.

In a way, when I watched Kill Bill, I felt as though I was seeing it backwards, and not just because the plot is non-linear. My first introduction to the movie had come through watching the “Telephone” music video, in which Lady Gaga and Beyoncé escape prison, a(n) (presumably) abusive lover, a murder scene in which they are the perpetrators, and the police, all from the cab of a yellow truck with “Pussy Wagon” painted on the back. The critical readings of the “Telephone” video were all quick to point out that the video was referencing Kill Bill, not only with its Pussy Wagon but also with its jumpy narrative about vengeful, powerful women.

So, when I finally watched Kill Bill, I knew, obviously, that the movie had come first. Still, in the chronology of my own life, “Telephone” had come first, so while watching Kill Bill, I’d see something—a yellow truck, subtitles, unusual camera angles—and think, “That’s just like in ‘Telephone’!” Such is the state of our popular culture, which builds reference upon reference to itself. I’d seen the reference before I’d seen the original. Then again, if Walter Benjamin and the postmodern critics are to be believed, we now live in a culture in which the original is so easily copied that it no longer has any meaning, and we are constantly surrounded by references that do not really refer back to an original. Gaga referenced Tarantino, who references classic cinema, comic books, and anime, among a whole host of other media, within Kill Bill. These forms of media regularly reference novels, myths, and plays. To trace their origins back might be interesting but isn’t the purpose of this post.

Having viewed Kill Bill backwards from the lens of “Telephone,” however, I wonder if the music video served, in some way, as a rewrite of the movie. While I can certainly find feminist undertones in Kill Bill—a strong, independent female protagonist who is not overly sexualized; an emphasis on the sexualized nature of the violence women are, regrettably, all too often subjected to; a cast of female characters who exert their own agency and skills to obtain power instead of relying on men or their sexual allure—I don’t feel confident declaring it a feminist film. (Though I think it does pass the Bechdel test.)

I found several aspects of Kill Bill problematic, but my greatest source of discomfort with the movie came from its presentation of women as natural enemies and especially how the conflict between the female characters was racialized. I also want to point out that I’ve only seen volume one of the series so far, and I realize that many of my current problems with the film may be addressed in subsequent volumes. My biggest problem with volume one was that the female characters, while all strong and independent, were set against each other as adversaries. Within the movie itself this isn’t a problem, but the movie exists within the entire cannon of popular culture (and, in fact, frequently makes clear through its references that it exists within popular culture), and within much of that popular culture exists a stereotype that women are naturally catty and suspicious of each other. The movie does nothing to challenge this stereotype.

The struggles between the women are also racialized, as Uma Thurman’s character’s two adversaries are African-American and Asian. Well, I didn’t find the conflict between Thurman’s character and Copperhead too problematic. While race is present in the scene in which they dual, it isn’t a central part of their conflict, and I found their recognition of their shared identity as mothers interesting. However, in Thurman’s character’s dual with O-Ren Ishii, ethnicity is centralized. O-Ren Ishii mocks Thurman’s character as a white girl with a samurai sword, only to be bested by her in the end. The dual perpetuates the tired trope, found in films like Dances with Wolves and Avatar, of white people taking on an exotic, foreign culture and mastering it better than its own natives. Again, within the context of the film itself, this might not be problematic, but the film exists within the wider scope of popular culture and it does little to challenge the racial/ethnic stereotypes of that popular culture.

I found the animosity between the women almost surprising, in a way, because I could have easily seen them all coming to realize that they’d been manipulated by the mysterious Bill and joining together to take him down. In fact, I almost expected Thurman’s character and Copperhead to team up, bonded together by their motherhood. The film easily could have presented a sisterhood of women fighting together against their shared manipulation. Instead, they fight each other. The Pussy Wagon could have lived up to its reclaimed title as a vehicle full of women out to take back what’s theirs.

In the “Telephone” music video, however, the Pussy Wagon lives up to its reclaimed name. Of course, the “Telephone” video doesn’t just reference Kill Bill. It also pays homage to Thelma and Louise, a film I confess I have not seen. (I know, I know! For someone who loves analyzing pop culture, I’m so far behind!) However, I have seen the classic scene where Thelma and Louise drive their truck off the edge of the cliff, and though I hadn’t seen the entire film, at the end of the “Telephone” video, when Gaga and Beyoncé drive the Pussy Wagon off the cliff, I knew enough to think of Thelma and Louise.

By referencing both Kill Bill and Thelma and Louise, the “Telephone” video blends the independence of both movies’ heroines, the cinematography of Tarantino, and the sisterhood of Thelma and Louise. It presents Gaga and Beyoncé as partners in crime who help each other achieve their goal of revenge against the men who’ve hurt them and then help each other escape. It also presents Gaga and Beyoncé as equals, irregardless of their races. It is, in a sense, what Kill Bill might have been.

I’m not trying to say that Kill Bill isn’t a good movie. I loved finally seeing Tarantino’s renowned cinematography for myself and I very much want more. As an action film, it was excellent. Its protagonist was also a refreshing break from the usual role of women in action films, in which they are usually toys or temptations for the male characters. However, the film exists within the larger field of popular culture, a field to which it itself makes frequent references. The film places itself within pop culture as a whole, and so I, as a view, must do the same. While I found its heroine to be strong, independent and compelling, it did little to challenge stereotypes about women’s relationships with each other and racial tropes about white people being better at non-Western cultures than the non-Westerners. However, the beauty of a referential pop culture is that it invites rewrites and critiques from other forms of pop culture. By combining the strength of Kill Bill with the sisterhood of Thelma and Louise, the “Telephone” music video provides such a corrective while tipping its cap to Tarantino’s signature style.

 

Automail: Not as Easy as It Looks (Or, How Watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood Is Helping Me Cope with Having Carpal Tunnel Syndrome)

This post is a little bit more personal than usual, but it still contains references to theory and pop culture, so I thought I’d include it. Also, though I tried my hardest to avoid them, if you haven’t already seen Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and don’t want to know what happens, this post may contain some spoilers. There are also spoilers for James Cameron’s Avatar.

So, I was recently diagnosed with the dreaded disease of writers, gamers, and programmers: carpal tunnel syndrome. In retrospect, I’d probably started coming down with it last school year, but being about to get my B.A., I’d staunchly ignored it and kept typing papers, even when my fingers felt “funny.” This school year, however, it’s gotten so bad that I can’t ignore it. I woke up one morning with my hand completely numb and unable to move my fingers. Steroids and a brace have helped, but I still get frustrated often. I used to be able to write all the time, and now I have to take frequent breaks or avoid my keyboard (and my computer) for long stretches, sometimes days, at a time. As someone who has always identified herself as a writer and taken pride in her ability to type quickly and accurately, this is hard. There have been times when I have been dying to write, anxious to put down the words that I can see so clearly in my mind…and then my fingers start getting twitchy and tingly and stiff, and I have to stop. Usually these sessions end with me sitting in front of my computer and crying tears of frustration. I know my situation could be a lot worse, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling upset sometimes.

Okay, enough self pity. On to the pop culture! I recently started watching the Japanese anime series, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. If you want a detailed run-down of the series (and I recommend it! It’s very exciting with beautifully portrayed and fully realized characters) this would be a good place to start. For the purposes of this post, all you need to know is that the protagonist, Ed, is a teenage alchemist (for the purposes of this post, that’s more or less like a wizard). There are good guys with supernatural powers who fight bad guys with supernatural powers. Oh, and Ed is missing an arm and a leg. In our own world, this would probably be a major setback for Ed, but in his fantastical universe, a type of prosthetic known as “automail” is readily available. A limb made from automail can do pretty much everything a flesh and blood limb can, as it is connected to the body’s own nerves through a series of wires. It is also jointed in the same places as a flesh and blood limb, so it can move in the same ways. In certain situations, automail can even be used to enhance a limb, as one character with automail legs has a canon in her kneecap.

When I first started watching the series, I kept thinking back to what I’ve read of disability theory, which looks at how people with disabilities are portrayed in our culture (or in this case, Japanese culture? I feel a little weird applying a Western theory from a Western perspective to a Japanese television show. If I get something wrong or miss something, feel free to let me know in the comments). And, usually, people with disabilities aren’t shown at all. Or if they are, their disability is minimizes or made invisible in some way. (Think of Avatar and how the main character is confined to a wheelchair, but for the most of the movie, he’s in his avatar body which has no such constraints. The movie glosses over his disability and then gets rid of it all together at the end.) Ed’s disability seems to fit this depiction. Sure, he really wants his original arm and leg back, but his automail overall works pretty well. He can manipulate his metal hand as easily as his unaffected one. He can run, fight, and move in the same ways people with their original limbs can. Though the automail maker, Pinako, warns him that his rehabilitation will be long and difficult, the series glosses over whatever physical therapy-like training Ed had to undergo to use his automail. After he has it installed, the shot cuts to a new scene, some time later, in which the audience sees him sparring with his brother almost as though nothing has happened.

Those were my first thoughts about Ed and his disability. But then I kept watching the series, and while I still think automail is, to some extent, a way to push aside the main character’s disability so that he can still run after the bad guys and land a punch, Ed still struggles with not having his original limbs. Most of his struggle is psychological. He lost his limbs in a traumatic incident that also severely damaged his brother, and he feels guilty for his role in the events that led to such a devastating situation. His metal arm and leg serve as constant reminders of the guilt he feels and the burden that it places upon him. And certainly, not all of the suffering of coping with a disability is physical. Amputations, chronic diseases, mental illnesses, and genetic disorders all carry psychological as well as physical costs.

Ed also suffers from not being “normal.” Though he hides his automail appendages with gloves and boots, whenever people see his missing limbs, they tend to be shocked. They stare. They want to know what happened. Some characters are also able to guess, just from seeing Ed’s injuries, what sort of incident led to his missing limbs, which increases his guilt. Though his automail functions practically the same way organic limbs would, it still marks him as different from other people.

But, of course, Ed’s automail is not the same as his former arm and leg. The series (at least as far as I’ve gotten) doesn’t discuss the drawbacks to automail in detail, but they are there. Unlike skin, muscles, and nerves, automail can’t heal itself, so anytime Ed’s automail is damaged, he has to find an automail maker, usually his friend Winry, to fix it. Also unlike muscle, automail can’t become stronger. Though Ed practices his fighting techniques at every chance he has, the strength of his automail is completely subject to how well it has been made and repaired. This has dangerous consequences for him, as at one point during a fight, his automail arm breaks because the last time Winry repaired it, she forgot to include a necessary screw. Being made of metal, it also rusts.

The series doesn’t dwell on these difficulties. More often than not, Ed’s automail works just fine until it is convenient for the plot that it break. But still, the series, however subtly, shows Ed living with a body that is not completely under his control. Instead of being able to do whatever he likes whenever he likes, sometimes Ed has to deal with the fact that his prosthetic arm or leg just isn’t going to work that day. So he complains and sulks for a bit, gets over it, and then gets back into the fight the next day. And that’s kind of how I feel having carpal tunnel.

Now, I’m not going to go so far as to put myself in the category of people with disabilities. Like I said before, I could have it a lot worse. I can still type—I’m just slower than I used to be. I haven’t lost my entire arm. And if my carpal tunnel gets bad enough, well, I can have surgery to have the problem taken care of once and for all. This isn’t something drastic that is going to permanently change everything about my life, unlike someone who, for instance, is diagnosed with Huntington’s disease or becomes a paraplegic. To put myself in the same category as people who are struggling with radical, life-changing ailments and valiantly learning to live with them would seem melodramatic and selfish on my part. So I’m not going to do that. However, there was a brief period, when my hand went completely numb, where I got a small taste of what it was like to not be able to use one of my hands. It was tough. I had to actually think about everything that I was doing, even basic things like buckling a belt, that I usually did unconsciously. Now I can pretty much do everything that I used to without thinking about it, unlike people who have to learn how to do everything one-handed. It was hard enough for me to go without my hand for a few days, and I have much more respect now for people who learn to live with that sort of situation permanently.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that now I have a lot more sympathy for people with disabilities than I did before. And because of that, I can relate to Ed in ways that I probably couldn’t before. Before, while watching the series, I probably would have wondered why getting his arm and leg back were such a big deal to him, when his automail limbs seem to work just fine. Now I realize that, while they might be a good substitute (certainly better than the prosthetics technology we have in the real world), they aren’t perfect. (Why do I want my former, non-tingly fingers back when the ones I’ve still got almost work the way they used to?) I’d also probably miss a lot of the more subtle ways in which Ed has to listen to his body and let it dictate what he can or can’t do, even if he wishes otherwise.

And despite all that, he still manages to fight the bad guys and save the people he cares about. Having an “imperfect” limb or hand or body doesn’t mean that he can’t do things. It just means he has to do them differently. And ultimately, not having his original arm and leg makes Ed who he is. If the incident that caused him to lose them had never happened, there would be no story. But there is a story, and within that story, Ed’s missing limbs bring certain challenges and setbacks, which Ed deals with. At the end of the day, he still manages to kick the bad guys’ asses. So, from a disability theory perspective, while the series sort of glosses over Ed’s disability, it also shows him coping with it. And from a personal perspective, it makes me feel a little bit better about having carpal tunnel.

For Whose Entertainment?: Images of BDSM in Pop Music, Part 1

(TRIGGER WARNING: 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.)

Introduction

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me!

            — Rhianna “S&M”

 “Do you know what you got into?/Can you handle what I’m ‘bout to do?/’Cause it’s about to get rough in you./I’m here for YOUR entertainment.”

            –Adam Lambert, “For Your Entertainment” (emphasis added)

Images of the bondage/discipline/domination/submission/sadism/masochism (BDSM) subculture have existed on the periphery of popular culture, much to the consternation of both the conservative and the BDSM community, for quite some time. Wearing leather, cuffs, collars, and corsets has become almost commonplace in images of popular culture and fashion, so much so that many who wear them might not even be aware of their significance to BDSM. As a teenager, when I bought my first leather armbands, I had no idea that they were related to BDSM culture.

Not until I was in college did I learn the significance of those armbands and other accessories I’d acquired in my infatuation with the goth subculture (corsets, leather collars, etc.). My interest in sex-positive feminism had lead me to an interest in the BDSM subculture, which I learned was actually, in some ways, more affirming of sexuality and more promoting of consent than traditional, straight-laced, “vanilla” culture. The problem is, for both conservatives and the BDSM community, that images of BDSM that get presented in popular culture do not adequately reflect all of the shades and flavors of BDSM. Conservatives would probably prefer that sex were not presented in popular culture at all, but because sex sells, I will turn to the BDSM community’s concerns when their subculture is portrayed by the mass media.

BDSM is not a subculture that can be easily grapsed. Those who are introduced to its ideas are often shocked or revolted at what is presented because it seems to stand in such stark opposition to how we are taught to think about sex and love. Somebody whips you and burns you with hot wax and you enjoy it? You willingly undergo sensory deprivation because you like it? You choose to be humiliated? The idea, initially, is inconcievable. So I will being by explaining what BDSM is and what it is not. BDSM is a complex and diverse subculture, so this post will be meant to give an overview and not a complete and detailed account of BDSM.

BDSM and Vanilla: Not So Different Underneath the Leather

Firstly, BDSM, at its core, is based on ideas that govern all relationships, sexual or otherwise, and its values are, essentially, not too different from those of progressive liberals who wish we could be more open and honest in discussions about sex and consent. Forget the stereotypes of whips and crops for a moment and think purely about healthy human relationships of any sort, be they BDSM or vanilla.

In all relationships, one person is generally “in charge” while the other person is content to let that person lead. Even in relationships that claim to be equal, a closer examination of the dynamics almost always reveals that one partner is usually the one to make the final decisions. There is nothing wrong with this. This does not mean that one partner makes the decisions in an authoritarian manner that leaves out the feelings of the other partner. This does not mean that one partner is coerced, manipulated, or forced to do anything. It simply means that, in any relationship, decisions affecting both partners will need to be made. This decision will most likely be discussed between both partners, both of their needs and wishes will be taken into account, but ultimately, the final decision usually lies with one partner.

Sometimes the final decision for one issue will be decided by one partner, and the final decision for another issue will be decided by the other partner. Each individual relationship has its own rules about who makes what decisions and how decisions are made. But in each relationship, someone is going to have more power than someone else. There is nothing wrong with this. It does not mean that all relationships are based on an abuse of power. I am simply observing that in relationships, there is a (sometimes sliding) distribution of power. (Also, I am not speaking of relationships in which one partner uses this power to verbally, physically, mentally, or sexually abuse the other partner. I am speaking of relationships in which the power between partners is managed in a healthy way that attempts to benefit both partners.) Often, these power imbalances accomidate the personalities and decision-making preferences of the partners involved and are beneficial to the functioning of the relationship.

While most relationships have this imbalance of power, in “vanilla”—the BDSM term for traditional romantic relationships and sexual practices devoid of BDSM play—partnerships, this imbalance of power is rarely discussed, both in and out of the bedroom. Couples tend to feel their way through the relationship blindly, and while they may have some unconscious sense of who is in control and who is not at any point in time, they rarely have direct discussions about them. They may fall into these roles out of habit or attempt to act them out based on social expectations.

In BDSM relationships, be they merely for the duration of a scene or long-term, discussions of control are extermely important. People in the BDSM community often identify themselves based on their role as a submissive (also called “bottom”), dominant (also called “top”), or switch (someone who switches between the role of a bottom and top). Other varities of these roles exist, but they often refer to specific kinds of play. A bottom might indentify as just a bottom, or he might also describe the role as that of a “slave,” someone who wants his top to keep a tight control over many aspects of his life both in and out of the bedroom. A bottom might also describe herself as a daddy’s little girl (DLG), meaning that she is looking for play with an older man who will treat her like a child in some respects. (Please keep in mind that all of this play is enacted by of-age, consenting, fully informed adults.) In the BDSM community, someone’s identification tells their potential partners what role they will take in sex play.

However, what playing out this role entails is different for every individual, and before play takes place, partners will have to discuss exactly what scene will be played out. Does the bottom want the top’s control in every aspect of his or her life, or just during play? What are their hard limits (acts that they will not perform under any circumstances)? How will limits be communicated? All of these things must be taken into account and discussed explicitly and in detail before any play takes place.

This brings me to the topic of consent in the vanilla and BDSM communities. In both, consent to sex and/or play is the ideal. However, in the vanilla community, because explicit discussions of what sex acts will be performed and who will take what role rarely take place, consent may not always be communicated effectively. Both men and women may engage in sex acts that they do not particularly want but feel that their partner expects. Partners may assume that because an act has been consented to in the past, it will always be consented to. Often, in the vanilla community, the lack of a clear “No” is interpreted as a “Yes,” even when that is not the case. This is a problem that sex positive feminism wishes to address. Ideally, when a sex act would be performed, both partners would enthusiastically consent or the act would not take place. Enthusiastic consent would need to be given at every stage of foreplay and sex, and consent on one occasion would not translate to consent in all occasions.

I do not think that this lack of sex positivity in vanilla relationships means that there is something wrong with vanilla relationships. I think that problem is that in our mainstream society, we are not taught how to have these discussions about sex, consent, and control, and so it might be difficult for partners to negotiate these boundaries together. They may have trouble talking about what they were taught was a taboo subject or they might lack the vocabulary in which to discuss their relationship. They may feel vulnerable or embarrassed. They may think that they are intuitively supposed to know what their partner wants and being told takes away from the romantic mood of the moment. All of these problems, however, can lead to poor communication about sex, which can lead to partners engaging in sex acts that they do not want.

Many sex positive feminists, who are working to promote open, honest discussions about sex and sexual relationships in our society, have turned to the BDSM community for ideas about how to talk about consent. Consent, in the BDSM community, is discussed in depth before the sex play even begins. Even after the scene has started, the top needs consent from the bottom to move on to new stages of play. Consent is and can never be assumed, and consent on one occasion does not mean consent for every future occasion. Limits are to be respected. Despite the shocking nature of much BDSM sex play, despite the difficulty for someone in the vanilla community to understand why a partner would want to be controlled, the knee-jerk reaction against BDSM can be softened when it is explained that everything going on is completely consensual. Consent in the bedrock of BDSM play and nothing happens without it. (I realize that no community is perfect and that violations do occur within the BDSM community, just like they do in the vanilla community. However, I believe that, in both communities, consent is the ideal. My argument is that in the BDSM community, partners are ideally expected to have discussions about power and limits in the relationship. In the vanilla community, these topics are often not discussed explicitly.)

Explaining these nuances of BDSM culture, however, is time-consuming and difficult. Most people don’t understand it, and so it exists on the periphery of our culture. It is something most people have a vague notion of, and they vaguely think of it as wrong, and that is all. So, when BDSM shows up in popular culture, the accessories, toys, props, and acts are shown, while the ideas underlying BDSM play—thorough discussion of control, limits, and consent—are ignored. For this reason, BDSM is more often than not misrepresented in popular culture. It can be used to show acts of violence enacted upon unconsenting women. It can be used as a tool for shock value. Most often, it is a backdrop over which pop can appear “edgy.”

These misrepresentations can lead to problems when partners see the images of violence, without the discussions of consent and limits, and believe that this type of relationship is what they should want, even if they personally don’t want it. When people expect sex or play to hurt or believe that it should inherently be violent, then there is a problem. When BDSM is represented in pop, it presents the violence but leaves out the discussions of power and consent, and the discussions of power and consent are what is most important to BDSM play. Sex can hurt, but only if the bottom wants it to. Sex can be violent, but only when fully informed, consenting adults have agreed upon what that will involve and what the limits are. Unfortunately, the viewers of BDSM-as-filtered-through-pop are unaware of these discussions, and so these viewers, particularly teenagers, can come away with ideas about relationships and sex that are based purely on control without limits and violence without consent.

Part 2 looks at common representations of BDSM in pop music videos.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?” Hyper-Irony and Robot Chicken, Part 2

Here’s Part 1.

To examine how we got from The Simpsons to RC, however, I want to first look at another show—Seth McFarland’s FOX comedy, Family Guy. Family Guy is often criticized for being a rip-off of The Simpsons, and superficially this claim does seem to stand up. Both shows focus on a nuclear family lead by a drunk and ineffectual father and a long-suffering but loving mother. These parents also have a son and daughter who argue constantly as well as a baby who shows uncanny intelligence. The humor is often crude and juvenile and seems to be written for the purpose of making its audience uncomfortable as well as amused.

However, these are only superficial similarities. Family Guy took the hyper-irony game begun by The Simpsons and expanded it to even more ludicrous proportions. The quotationalism of The Simpsons was still linked to the plot in some way, and in many ways enhanced the plot. It acted as a cultural short-hand that cued the audience, if it was properly in the know, how to feel about the situation. For instance, in one of the episodes that Matheson references, “A Streetcar Named Marge,” Maggie and her cohorts attempt to break out of an oppressive daycare. The theme from The Great Escape plays in the background as they seek to free their confiscated pacifiers. This quotationalism is funny, certainly, but it also serves a purpose within the action of the scene. It cues the audience to feel that Maggie is doing something heroic and even adds an element of melodrama to the plot. Many of the other instances of quotationalism within The Simpsons behave in the same way—they are woven throughout the plot of the episode so that the action is enhanced, rather than broken, by the bevy of pop culture references.

Family Guy takes the quotationalism begun in The Simpsons one step further. Instead of enhancing the plot, the quotationalism often takes the audience out of the plot entirely. It also forces the Griffin family to break character, as they act out a brief sketch to illustrate whatever reference or joke has just been made. For instance, in one episode, Peter mentions playing a joke on Ashton Kutcher. The scene then switches to a shot of Peter throwing a tomahawk at Ashton Kutcher, causing him to pass out. Peter then explains that he only hit Kutcher because that is the purpose of his television show—to go around filming himself hitting people with tomahawks. Then the scene ends, and the audience is returned to the regular plot of the show. This parody of Punk’d has nothing directly to do with the plot of the episode and seems to serve no purpose other than to make viewers who get the reference feel “in the know.”

This parody and other pop culture references like it within Family Guy, breaks up the show. Instead of enhancing the plot, it actually detracts from it. The quotationalism of Family Guy is often criticized because it is irrelevant to anything else going on in the episodes. However, the quotationalism can’t be that unfunny, or Family Guy would not be one of the most popular comedies in America. Rather, Family Guy takes the cult of pop culture knowingness begun in The Simpsons and raises it to a new level. In The Simpsons, the quotationalism still had a purpose within the show. In Family Guy, the quotationalism is its own purpose. It references purely for the sake of referencing, and only audience members who are in the know are assumed to be worthy of the joke.

This quotationalism for its own sake is, I believe, the natural progression of hyper-irony in comedy. If everything is a source of  ridicule and the best we can hope for is a constant game of one-up-manship in the rules of a particular ideological discourse, then Family Guy does not try to disguise that game behind a plot. Instead, it blatantly exposes the game and acknowledges that it is being hyper-ironic. The show even mocks itself for its constant breaks in the flow of the plot, as occasionally characters will make a bizarre pop culture reference or mash up and then pause. “I thought we had a clip for that,” Stewie says on one such occasion. “Oh? No we don’t? Never mind, then.” The show makes fun of its own quotationalism, proving that even it is not free from ridicule.

Though Family Guy is fresher than The Simpsons, after nine seasons, it too seems to be stalling. Just as The Simpsons has settled into a particular ideological comfort zone of family values and liberal-leaning politics, so too has Family Guy. For instance, in the episode “Trading Places,” in which Meg and Chris swap places with their parents for a week, Chris eventually becomes so stressed that he has a heart attack. When he revives in the hospital and admits that being an adult is harder than he thought it would be, Lois comforts him with a reminder that he still has his family to help him through difficult times. Many recent episodes have ended with a reinteration of family values, and the Griffins seem to take comfort in the fact that while the world may be cruel and unpredictable, at least they have each other to depend upon. In older seasons, this idea of the importance of the family would be under-cut, and to some extent, it still is. After all, what kind of family does Chris have to depend upon? Peter is a selfish drunk. Meg is superficial. Stewie is too concerned about planning world domination and understanding his sexual orientation to care about anything else. Brian is too busy finding a girlfriend and working on his novel (or drinking and thinking about working on his novel), and while Lois might mean well, she rarely offers real solutions to her family’s problems. However, the episode and many like it, seem to end with the message that even though the Griffins are all flawed, they love each other, and that love is enough overcome their faults. This uplifting end note is becoming a common theme on the series, suggesting that Family Guy may be slowly dropping its hyper-ironic stance for a more touchy-feely message.

So why have The Simpsons and Family Guy gone soft? I believe that their nature as  situation comedies prevents them from upholding their hyper-ironic cynicism for too long. Because both shows involve a regular cast of re-occuring characters, these characters and their relationships must develop in some way after a period of time. After all of their wacky adventures and mishaps, how could the Simpsons or Griffins not have a strong bond with each other? In twenty-two minutes they undergo some sort of crisis, resolve it, and return their world to normal. In some sense, the love that they have for each other is enough to get them through any kind of trouble, simply because at the end of each episode, they must have re-established their normal lives so that they will be ready for the next episode. The nature of the situation comedy forces them to find some sort of ideological ground, even if it is a tenuous one.  Chris, voiced by Seth Green, can depend on his family, because the medium in which he exists insists that he can.

But another show involving Seth Green does not have such limitations, which brings us to the next progression of hyper-irony: Robot Chicken. Unlike situation comedies, sketch comedy is under no compunction to always include regular characters and plots, thus it does not become entangled in requiring those characters to grow or change in some way. It is neither required to force its quotationalism to conform to their plots nor does it need to break a plotline to include it. Its quotationalism is purely for the sake of comedy, but it avoids the criticism that plagues Family Guy. Because nothing about sketch comedy is required to be constant, it avoids the risk of settling on some ideological platform, and instead may freely mock anything and everything. Sketch comedy appears to be hyper-irony’s most suitable medium.

What makes Robot Chicken different from other sketch comedies, such as SNL, however, is that it relies entirely on hyper-irony for its humor. SNL contains multipe parodies of popular culture and current events, but these sketches usually exist to convey some sort of message. SNL also relies on physical comedy, absurdism, and its audience’s ability to relate to uncomfortable social situations for humor. Quotationalism is a large source of its comedy, but it is not the only source. And there are lines that SNL will not cross. RC, however, leaves no sacred cow unskewered. It exists purely to under-cut and then to under-cut its own under-cutting.

In some sense, hardly any of its material is wholey original, because nearly all of its sketches references at least one form of popular culture. The Simpsons and Family Guy may borrow from popular culture, but they also feature their own original characters and plotlines. RC is almost entirely intertexual. It plays the pop culture referencing game better than any other contemporary show, but that is because sketch comedy is the natural progression of hyper-irony as comedy. There are multiple playlists on YouTube consisting of just the cutaway gags from Family Guy. Why bother with regular characters and a plot when the best bits are quotational? Unencumbered by regular characters and their relationships, which must be held together in some manner for the show to continue and thus demand a commitment to some sort of ideology, RC may be as irreverent as it likes. (The fact that it is shown on Adult Swim of Cartoon Network, a cable channel that runs adult-themed cartoons at early hours of the morning also helps, as unlike The Simpsons and Family Guy, it is held to much looser standards of censorship.) It holds to no higher authority, even its own, and its medium allows it to move fluidly from one subject of mockery to the next.

Robot Chicken, then, is the culmination of comedy in our postmodern society where there is no ultimate source of authority or truth. It is a show where every source of understanding is constantly put into question. It engages in a rapid-fire battle of pop culture analogies with its viewers, challenging them to get the references quickly before it moves on to the next sketch. We may not be able to ultimately know anything, but we can at least prove that we know how the pop culture game works and we can play it better than anyone else. After all, in a society where all authority is questioned, the old rules no longer apply. The old jokes, like “Why did the chicken cross the road?”, are no longer funny. Instead of attempting to remake the old, we must make something completely new from what’s left of the past. We’re not entirely sure what we are now or where we are, and like the robot chicken, all we can do is sit back, watch the whole experience, and laugh.