Some minor venting
I haven’t been thinking too clearly of late. This might be a start, looking at examples of distractions that enhance this disorientation
I can hear the spectacle calling me from down stairs. Whooshes and explosions tempt me to be sucked into the dreamscape
When I walk past the television set downstairs around tea-time, as I attempt to quickly get a drink, not wanting to lose momentum from the work I am undertaking up in my room, there is often a film on, set to the typical action movie formula, which my father hasn’t so much decided to watch as become resigned to watching. After I have got that needed liquid, and I make my escape for the stairs back to the room where I’m working, I get caught by the action on the screen as if I’ve accosted.
Most ‘blockbuster’ action films (especially the recent re-makes) have but a skeletal amount of content, but have collosal heaps of spectacle; and it is at these moments that one (re)understands the almost-hypnotic power that spectacle (especially spectacle that has had millions spent on making it) has on people. It just draws you towards it like a light draws in a moth. It is seductive; you’re telling yourself to leave the room, to turn and make a dash, but it’s like the screen has hold of eyes from the sockets and his pulling them into a whirlpool.
Notorious for being empty of new ideas, Hollywood, which is the USA’S foremost propaganda machine (‘diffuse’ propaganda; to use Guy Debord’s word for describing the way that most so-called ‘democratic’ nations’ spectacle works), still shows us why the American way is still the most powerful; it’s seduction.
Facebook: the crowd in your lonely room
What I need to remember when I’ve got Facebook on whilst trying to do other things (things that rejuvenate my sense of self like making art, writing), and struggling to do so, is that Facebook is a crowd, even if it’s a non-physical one. One cannot think clearly when it’s on, when the blue and white rolling news channel of friendship is promising/or threatening (?) to put up the excitement-creating red cubes of communication in the top left corner on the screen. Although the crowd isn’t physical, and many members of the crowd may not even be present at certain moments, the potential of the presence of members of the crowd pulls the crowd mentality over us. Not a crowd mentality in the sense of an unthinking mob, but in the sense of the paranoia and self-consciousness, and the feeling that one should reply to everything said around their Zone/Facebook wall, like one often feels in a busy street or crowded room. This isn’t so great, regarding the places where we usually use Facebook: places like bedrooms, where one would previously have found only their mind at work; a place for reflection and clear thinking being encroached upon? But most of us Facebook users know it is so hard to leave this potential crowd! It makes us feel so lonely if we turn it off, or deactivate our online persona for a few days, even though we probably didn’t have this lonely feeling until it encroached upon our once completely solitary spaces. Its shouts have a spectacular effect, like the aforementioned films do, and they call us to back to the computer screen like the films call us downstairs to be subject to the TV (the dictator of the settee).
Elaboration in this will be needed at some point, I know! But I didn’t want to post it onto the place where 150 words fit more appropriately than this blog where I usually write in more detail: Facebook