tychoish, now without a net

This post grows out of a sort of smoldering rant that I’ve been having for a while now. As I sit here at one of these synthetic moments when I’m trying to figure out how past interests and experiences build up to the future–how do the things that I loved so much in college affect life/me now?–the purpose of social/literary theory (”philosophy with a cause,”) is one of these things.

The internet loves polemics, and so ‘theory has a venue here, but I’ve read a lot of blog posts and emails from people who seem to yield theory and critique like a baseball bat, rather than a toothbrush,¹ so it’s been even more on my mind.

What is critique? What separates “good” critique from “bad” critique, and what end does it serve?

I think if any of you are presently reading Stephen Greenblat or Elaine Scary–for instance–you might have a pretty good answer for this. But what about the internet? There’s a lot of critical work that’s out there on the internet, a lot of people working outside of the academy who contribute to a discourse that attempts to analyze the world and our culture, often with various kinds of political goals. This is also critique.

Now I don’t want to seem like (too much of) an ass, I read a lot of crap on the internet that, to my mind seems like either really bad critique or (more likely) critique that fails to really capture the spirit of what I think the critical mode is.

Feel free (and encouraged) to disagree, but lets do a little bit of brainstorming on what makes good critique or bad critique:

• Critique is synthetic. Critique really needs to draw together multiple perspectives and sources. You can’t critique something without consulting previous critical literature (this is why theory is necessary, without it, we are contextually adrift), without consulting similar and dissimilar works. Critique is the mode through which all of these perspectives come together.

• Critique is often positive. It’s very easy to assume that the purpose of critique is to go through some abominable text² and tear it to shreds, and often this is enjoyable, but it is not productive. “Bad” and otherwise objectionable content will either stand or fail on it’s own, and taking a positive approach to critique means, I think that critique can be more politically productive, because, critiques can say “this good thing is good,” which is more instructive to consumers and producers of content. This doesn’t mean that critique has to be unequivocally positive–far from it–but if there isn’t a substantial positive outlook, the critique suffers.

• Critique doesn’t pass judgement; critique that passes judgment is called “review” and I think “review” has a different role and mold. It’s unfortunate that people who produce in both modes are called “critics.”

• *Critique is contextual.: This is sort of an adjunct statement to the first, but I think it’s important to realize that critique that doesn’t contextualize both the works in question, and the moment of critique is useless. This is also, potentially controversial, but I don’t suspect we have very many New Critics in the audience. Texts and critics don’t exist in a vacuum, and criticism can’t either. From this principal springs a couple of subsidiary values:

  • Paradoxically, readers of criticism need not be familiar with the texts your addressing, though they are likely familiar with the larger body of work that the texts belong to.

• Critics can’t hold individual works accountable for “their times,” nor can critics rise above the constraints of their times in criticism. Attempts to violate these rules are almost always tragic.

• Critique has an agenda: People don’t create texts or critique those texts without an agenda. Period.

• Critique has data, that is to say “texts.” One cannot critique abstract objects, or at least I doubt that it could do that very well. Particularly when specific texts are at the heart the critics’ work. For instance you can’t critique victorian gender norms, but you can critique the ways that legislation, and fashion standards vis a vis a sewing manual shaped gender norms during a period. You can’t critique a political campaign, but you can critique the marketing strategy vis a vis the advertising of various candidates.

  • Often the more specific the data is the better.
  • Often it’s hard to get all the data surrounding contemporary texts and phenomena. This requires special considerations.

• Critique is a pathway to understanding: Looking for and elucidating mechanisms behind particular literary/artistic/cultural phenomena is one of the most powerful and important goals of critique.

That’s enough for now, but I’m interested in seeing what you all have to contribute…

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tagged: academia • the queer

So part of my job deals with listening to interviews conducted as part of a documentary about the civil rights movement. So as a result I get to hear all sorts of people talk about the civil rights movement, with a bunch of different perspectives. From people who knew and worked with Martin Luther King personally, to liberal (and radical) white activists, to community leaders and so forth.

I also apologize for the political digression, I usually try to avoid discussions of current politics, because they are difficult, and so often fail to address the important issues that are at play in our world. As an aside, thats why I write fiction. But with this as a backdrop, I was posed with a question that I think bears a little bit of collective pondering.

I was listening to an interview with a former member of Lyndon Johnson’s administration, who was largely saying, “look at all the wonderful things we did,” and I have little tolerance for this, because it’s clear that this is really just posturing. I mentioned this to someone I work with and they said, (as many liberals these days say,) “yeah, and he was probably better than what we have now.”

Of course, being the ornery sort that I am, I’m wondering if this is really the case.

Johnson started (or escalated) a war that was a farce, and lost control of the political situation to such an extent that he deployed federal troops to put down riots in ‘66 and ‘67. Let Johnson also not avoid responsibility for J. Edgar Hoover’s behavior in the 60s. There are also plenty of reports that Johnson, was as a person, something of a creep (though we don’t have a good comparison on this point) I think it’s not worth ignoring.

And while Johnson is credited with passing the civil rights act and the voting rights act (and what has Bush done that’s that good?), I’d argue that the civil rights acts are hardly an example of timely and forward thinking/progressive government. Not that I think they’re bad, just that they were “as little and as late as possible.”

So what do you think?

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tagged: academia

A year ago, I read a book on the history of academic women’s studies called: “When Women Ask the Questions: Creating Women’s Studies in America,” by Marilyn J. Boxer. While I’m sure some of my classmates would describe the book as staid and boring, I thought it was bearable at the least. I’m sure they’ll all comment if I miss the mark on this one, but I thought that it was pretty complete and accurate.

I got the feeling that despite the fact that history is largely an interpretive endeavor and therefore not apt for judgement of “true” and “false,” but I remember from this book getting the sense that she reported a series of events that, in fact, really did happen, pretty much the way she said it.

Now, to be fair, maybe the reason I felt this way is that she was telling a narrative that I was familiar with, and could then–and particularly now–supplement as needed. But I think there might be something more.

Boxer (and there are other historians who do this; we’ll get there in a second) accomplishes this because, rather than angst and attempt to eliminate her bias’ it’s just out there. These histories are effective because the writer is very through and on top of that reader always knows where the author stands. At the same time

I was talking with my parents about this, and they immediately citied Trotsky’s History of the Russian Revolution as a similar sort of thing, which–though I am much less familar–I think is a much less insular example of this same kind of sub-genere.

I think it’s a cool kind of writing/book, and I tend to think of my historian characters as fitting into this model (this is how this connects up with the previous post), but I’m interested in hearing what the rest of you with an interest or expertise in history have to say about this.

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tagged: academia • writing

Overheard this past week:

“I think because queers (guys specifically) mostly don’t get a chance to be teenagers–with the flirting and the sex experimentation and what not–when they’re actually teenagers, we spend a lot of time after we’re teenagers fumbling through our love lives acting like teenagers even though we know it’s not right, because we have to get it out someway,” I declared. My discussions with C. about of our romantic woes often began with broad decelerations about sociological phenomena.

Strangely this was comforting.

“I don’t think it’s a queer, thing–I sort of feel like I’m in the same place. I think that’s how everyone who was nonsexual in high school deals with their twenties,” she asserted. C. is often right about these things, but I don’t have to like it. I propose some theory of the nature of queer life, and she asserts that it’s more universal; almost always true, but far less exciting/original that way.

“Remember how I used to call you ‘almost queer,’ and you used to laugh at me for being absurd?”

“Yes.”

“This is what I meant.” I stare, but there’s probably a twinkle in my eye. She laughs, and I feel relieved, Making C. laugh is something I donate a lot of energy to.

“It’s like we all have teenager to get out of our systems–” C. begins.

“–and it takes forever because we know we should be beyond it by now.” I finish.

“Imagine how awesome we’d be now if we got laid in high school.” C laments.

Now I’m laughing, “I think it probably has less to do with the sex and more to do more with the flirting and crushing and all that good old trial and error romance stuff that folks do when they’re young.”

“Probably.” C. says after a moment. “So, speaking of what did our mututal crush say to you this time.”

“The usual,” I say, and roll my eyes. “G-d, I wonder how did I seem so together when we were in college,”

“Eh, it’s not him is it?” C. is uncanny.

“Ok you can stop being psychic now.”

And I wonder why there are entire journals devoted to queer studies sometimes. Actually come to think about it, I’m sort of writing a paper on this subject. I like how even in my absence from academe, where I’m trying to relax and refresh as much as possible so I can build new connections and foundations when I get back to it in a few months/weeks, everything still seems to be connected.

Also while this conversation reflects–more or less–an actual conversation, it’s a format (albiet with more science fictional elements) that I’m playing with for a new project that I’ll probably launch sometime this summer. Does the ultra short, potentially serial, format appeal?

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tagged: academia • the queer • writing

So there’s this book of knitting patterns called “classic knits for real women”

I am naturally hesitant to get behind a book that’s presupposes some notion of “real womanhood,” right? but this book has middle aged women on the cover which bodes well (white, admittedly, though it’s a British publication from a pretty rurally located company).¹

And the designs look to be simple, non-fashion designs, with a traditional edge, with good yarn, and what not: I think they’re using “real” in contrast to “couture fashion model,” which is a heart warming development.

On the one hand, the language kind of sucks, and on the other, I’m thinking rock on sweaters that people can wear.

Thoughts?

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tagged: academia • knitting • the queer

With a title like the “Daily Grind,” I suspect you’re expecting a post about how I’m acclimating to my new 9-5 job. Wrong. I think this one is more about publishing schedules in new media, but, it’s probably a lot more connected than I want to think about.

I suppose first off, I should cop to the fact that I am totally guilty–when I know I’m going to be in crunch time–of writing entries in runs of six or so, and then posting them out one by one, so that the blog maintains a daily publication schedule, and I can put energy when it needs to go.

Second off, I should note that I’ve been listening to Jared Axelrod’s’s now daily (or almost compleatly daily, at least of ep ~60-70 where I am now) podcast “The Voice of Free Planet X.” I’ve been listening to VoFPX for a while, and I’ve always liked it (so if you don’t listen to it, you should it’s good stuff), but Jared’s said something interesting recently–by my frame–that I want to reflect upon.

Jared reported having some trouble keeping a weekly posting schedule, because it was something that you could put off if things got tight and still–more or less–keep your schedule. In contrast, you can’t really put off something that is supposed to happen daily more than a few hours or else you don’t meet the deadline. I’d also add that in a lot of cases as creators we say–at least to our selves–if it comes out weekly it has to represent a weeks worth of work, whereas if it comes out daily it represents–in most cases–proportionally less work, and just has to exist.

And the truth about writing, and creating–particularly on the internet–is that success is pretty random. Having a story, or a site, podcast, or a video that “works” and becomes popular is not the effect of some transcendental skill, and even a not incredibly strongly correlation to skill; but rather a function of the quantity of output. You got to keep putting things out, keep making things, and the more you make the more likely something is to really “make it.”

When blogs first started, everyone praised them because they made publishing online really easy. You wrote something and hit post. That was it. For the most part blogs (and other related media) succeed as we hit the post button more. And this corresponds to our reading style. It takes just as long to read a blog post with meticulously crafted prose as it does to read one that was written in the morning on half a cup of coffee. And the chances are, that posting frequently will lead to more success (where success equals audience size) because people will check regularly updated sites more often than sites that update less frequently.

As a result of this I’ve made the observation on a number of occasions, that while a firm and regular posting schedule will cement and stabilize a your audience/readership of plus or minus a few percent, you can’t “jump” levels simply by increasing volume of content generation.

So I guess there are a couple of threads to this argument the “schedules are good for audiences” and the “schedules are good for creation.” Having trounced the former sufficiently, lets move on to the later.

I think clearly we all work at different speeds, and we do different things, I think I do better with this kind of scheduling. It’s helped the blogging, for me, and projects like 365 Tomorrows, and Thing a Week, j.r. blackwell’s photos and so forth, all seem to be creative successes (and I suspect distribution-increasing successes as well.)

It’s just a hair brained idea at the moment, but I think it might be fun to start a project like this for the fiction writing that I’m not doing at the moment. A daily routine would have the effect of a) getting things out there. b) inspiring an increase in productivity, and writerly practice. Also, I think I’m likely as busy at the moment as I’m likely to be at any time in the next couple of years, and I think I feel like I’ve “got” the blogging rhythm down, and it’s time to add a new project. Just a thought, and I’m making no promises, that’s for sure. More musings in the future.

Onward and Upward!

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tagged: academia • interwebs • journal • writing