I don't like to read the IMDb trivia for a film. While interesting details are learned, often I also learn something about the film's making or its design that I can't unsee once I know it. This has occasionally ruined individual shots in films for me, and once or twice a whole movie.
I'm sure this is a common experience.
Knowledge has this side effect regarding a great many things. Outside of art, I prefer the effect. For example, I'd rather know that Alexius Comnenus of the Byzantine Empire wasn't expecting thousands of nutjob crusaders when he asked Pope Urban for help in 1095. I was told otherwise by my high school teachers. I also prefer knowing that the American and French revolutions were not grassroots popular uprisings, but propaganda campaigns by rich assholes who wanted to retain their properties while getting rid of their overlords. Again, not the story I was told. Likewise, many of us have learned much of what we were told about Christopher Columbus was horseshit, and likewise with regards to considerable host of other "heroes" and historical figures. I recognize that people don't like having these icons shattered, but I'm different in that regard.
Our discussion turned to the appearance of the villain males throughout ... not just Immortal Joe, but all of them. The desired effect of make-up, pins, nails and other freaky appurtanances is to evoke fear in the observer. The same principle underlies the various face-painting that's been incorporated in hundreds of cultures when preparing for war, and the subject could be left there. However, I feel compelled to point out that one's outward appearance is not of direct benefit to the wearer. I can wear the paint; but when I'm out there, I can't see the paint. No matter what others see, I'm still me.
Let's take that a step farther. In a primitive culture without mirrors, relying wholly upon the occasional askew reflection to be found in water, only occasionally, our looking frightful as primitives is a truth we accept from others. More to the point, I rely upon you to make my face, while you rely on me. When I make your face, I'm not able to make a face that you may necessarily find frightening; I must make a face that I find frightening. In effect, I create your outward "personality" and you create mine. This is a personality made prior to a battle, without my input. Yet, to maintain the respect of my clan, I must live up to the face I'm given — a face I'll never see.
This provides context for the tribalism that is fundamentally a part of our cultural structure. It's not the paint that makes us think this way, but the co-operation that allows individuals to forsake that individuality for the benefit of the greater whole. This practice has been co-opted for millennia, despite advancements in technology, because it's what makes humans ... human.
The practice of deciding how everyone is going to look, past the clothes and the helmets to precise ways of holding the weapon and the body erect; the manner in which everyone's facial hair will be maintained, the expression on everyone's faces, the tone of voice and ritual of speech ... once regimented in a specific, ritualised manner, the practice builds endurance, the willingness to stand fast in a fight, the willingness to die in place rather than forsake one inch, welds a group of individuals into a unit as unyielding as geology. One man will not break and run, because there is nowhere to run to. From birth, every man is indoctrinated to understand that cowardice is a permanent, irreconcilable social disgrace ... not only in that I will be disgraced if I'm a coward, but that I will perpetrate disgrace upon every coward I encounter, ruthlessly and contemptuously. Every man knows this. Better that I stand here and face impossible odds, knowing that I'm going to die, another faceless drone among an empire of faceless drones, than that I present the least sense of being an individual.
This is not a post about Fury Road ... but it is a post about the yearning of males, particularly white males, for individuals of the culture to conform with what they perceive is sacrosanct of that culture. The 80s films, the ones where all the women were victims, were "great fun" and "innocent" ... but this new Mad Max is nonsense, nihilistic, sterile and empty of meaning (because the originals were Shakespeare). What's changed? Certainly not the filmmaker, as he's famously still George Miller. Nope. It's that women are depicted in the film as able, capable and ultimately triumphant over the white, white, white, white males. So white, we have to paint them white, just to make the point clear.
Women are not "scary" ... painting them just makes them sexy. They haven't got facial hair; they can't put the same expression on their faces; their tone of voice doesn't conform, the ritual of speech doesn't ring true ... and most of all, if one of them backed out of a fight, there is absolutely no way that society is going to indoctrinate women to stand fast and be murdered, or indoctrinate men to ruthlessly express contempt for a woman who protects herself. Functionally, as humans, we just don't work that way.
Which can only exacerbate the fundamental, biological comprehension that males are disposable in war and battle, but women are not. Understanding that this is a "comprehension" from the male's point of view and NOT THE WOMAN'S. Still, males have been doing things in a particular way for a very long time, and they don't like that this way is turning out to be ... well ... limited.
Still, we are seeing an intensive cultural rise in white males abandon their individuality for the comforting conformity of a singular, co-operative, aggressive, discriminative outward-assigned communal value system. Why comforting? Because individuality is confusing and unsettling. It is full of questions. What do I believe? Am I a good person? Did I behave wrongly five minutes ago? What should I have done? Questions like these can dominate anyone's consciousness if they haven't something to ground themselves — like what my family told me to believe ... which is, in fact, just another outward-assigning group of people. Thinking for oneself — being an individual — just feels wrong for virtually everyone in the population. This is what's meant when sociologists or anthropologists talk about us having a "need" for belonging. What they don't say, of course, because it doesn't play well in the media, is that "belonging" means being told what to think, how to think, when to think and why not to think for yourself.
As enlightened people of the 21st century, we pretend this isn't true. We rush to spew out content like the comment above as though it's on point, imaginative and unique ... when it's exactly what I expected to find when I went to the comments section of IMDb's Fury Road page. It was the fifth comment down on the 1-star ratings. The other comments talked mostly about how the violence was "silly." Because violent films don't sell millions of film copies, at all.
We pretend that everyone is special and that our tastes are so unique, but everyone's list of top ten anything always includes the same tired list of the same approximately 100 shared items. We know inherently that if we include something obscure and commonly frowned upon in our list when sharing it publicly, we'll have to explain ourselves ... and that just brings up that list of self-abusing questions that make us run for the communal experience in the first place. Everyone recognizes that if we post a list of, say, "top 10 films," what others see will cause them to judge us. It is easier to pick "safe" options than to risk being judged. As a result, we're taken at our word ... and most of us have found ourselves in some situation where we've agreed that Return of the Jedi is one of our "favourite" movies, only to have to sit miserably through it when family members set up a surprise birthday party where we're expected to be pleased as punch to sit through this awful, terrible film. Again. Rather than admit we never liked the thing.
Our clothes don't reflect our inviduality so much as the "individuality" we think others will accept quietly. And those who don't behave this way, who dare to be actually individual, get to endure this constant, abusive, unrelenting joke-making, under the rubric of, "I don't mean to be disrespectful." Because this is how things are.
This blog is hostile, but not towards those who fail to conform, but towards those who do. This gives me the semblance of "affecting greater importance" than other people, because I have zero interest in identifying with other people. The very fact that I don't care to identify suggests it's because I feel "superior" ... when, in fact, as a single, isolated, totally vulnerable outcast without a tribe, I'm vastly inferior to the forces arraigned against me. A single individual makes a terrible army.
I speak disloyally of the D&D pantheon of holy inventors because I didn't sanctify them and I don't recognize the faith granting that sanctification. I don't believe in any faith. "Faith" is what we have when we let someone else paint our face for the greater good that I won't choose. Fuck faith, and the seeds it gestates.
Finally, I scorn the words of bloggers who love editions, modules, artworks and other elements of traditional D&D because I can see plainly that these are not the blogger's words. They are repeated words, unexamined words, ritually repeated and never truly defended, because they are indefensible. This blog is a campaign that repeatedly examines the words, exactly the thing that individuals do, but which belongers are terrified of doing. Over and over I post the words, ask questions, demonstrate the failings, demand explanations for why such as such is so popular, or what makes it good, when it is so obviously, flagrantly shit, especially compared with words originating from sources other than D&D. Traditional D&D is bad game design, bad writing, bad interactive advice, badly organized publishing, mawkishly disastrous business envisioning and, on the whole, irascibly resistant towards educating non-players HOW TO PLAY. This last, obviously, should be the first thing addressed, but it's the last thing every admitted.
The crime that other people see is "not conforming." I know that. But the crime I prefer to address is "the game is shit as written."
The British Army was once an irresistible military force; I don't question that. But it was a force that defended racism, brutality, theft, systematic murder of both cultures and people and ultimately the perpetuation of human misery.
Letting someone else paint your face may be all well and good for you, but I'm not a native. I don't live in a tribal group because tribes are selfish, territorial, coercive, ultimately enslaving entities, whose practice in dealing with any desire for freedom is to shame, hate and ultimately to ostracise, which once upon a time meant dying in the wilderness alone.
Civilisation has taken the teeth out of ostracisation. I, for one, am happy in the wilderness.
I enjoyed reading this, thank you. It's another helpful clarification of what you do here on the blog.
ReplyDeleteA thought occurs to me. You attribute conformity to tribal, primitive, or maybe even outdated attitudes. You say that civilisation has taken the teeth out of ostracism: that being outside of the group is feasible, even comfortable for you because space has been created for it by modern convenience, the dearth of violence in the modern West, etc.
Under this model, where has this space come from? Why are we better now at tolerating inconformity than in our tribal days? If state-based civilisation has arisen directly from tribal organisation, why is it easier to step outside of a state than a tribe? Did a nucleus of individuality survive long enough to transition, or could it be the effect of federation / multiculturalism - the contact with enough different attitudes, different groups, to leave 'gaps' that individuals could slip into safely?
I know I've simplified a lot by putting things this way. I suppose I'm just wondering why you're 'allowed' to exist as an individual: why it is no longer an affront to me or my fellow readers, when it might have been in days gone by.
Fuzzy,
ReplyDeleteThe key is specialisation.
The systematic effectiveness of the British Army of the late 19th century was challenged by the Boer War to start and then the impossibilities of modern warfare. Suddenly, a successful battle no longer relied upon soldiers doing the same thing in the same way, but upon individuals acting thoughtfully in unexpected situations. The lesson wasn't learned easily; a LOT of men were sacrificed in on the Western Front by old school British officers.
As the 20th century progressed, more and more specialised work and professions arose, enabling people with unusual skills to find a niche where they could prove themselves irreplaceable. Being one of the group became less and less important in the need for productivity, design and innovation.
I've escaped the tribal organisation by performing essential services in various creative ways; though it hasn't always worked out for me, as a serious downturn in the economy or a period of being unable to find reliable, stable work can put me one step from the street, as it were; thankfully, I've been a good friend and a good parent, so when I fall, I've had others who are ready to catch me. This blog turned out to be my salvation; the specialised ability I have to talk about D&D in a particular way has made me valuable enough to people that they've been willing to support me. Unlike the poet Charles Bukowski, I haven't had to live on the street or in an asylum. Unlike Somerset Maugham, Karl Marx or Frederic Nietzche, I haven't had to starve. But I have had to work dirty jobs; occasionally humiliating jobs; and accept some hatred and resistance to my ideas. So it goes.
In this society, as long as you have a skill, pay your bills and your rent, be true to your word, avoid toxic self-destructive habits and obey the law, you can co-exist with tribal folk; the only thing you may have to do from time to time is pretend to be one of them: i.e., say you like the things they like, keep your opinions to yourself and find a reason to leave as soon as possible.
I want to write a thoughtful reply here. You touched on things that are and were important to me. But it's late, and the post makes me ache uncomfortably in the way that I know what I would type would not be sufficient for myself at the minimum.
ReplyDeleteThis post made me feel a thing. So that's good. I appreciate that.