http://www.howboringistheinternet.org

a while back during 1 of those pre-essay moments (where u really should b starting an essay, but instead distract urself with other things), i stumbled across this url: www.wwwdotcom.com

svendsen argues that “few types of apparatus destroy time more efficiently than a TV. There is ultimately hardly any other reason for watching TV for so many hours an evening than to get rid of time that is superfluous or disagreeable” (23). i wood argue that the net surpasses tv in this respect. this is bcuz of the nature of the net – a medium that encourages what we might call “superfluous” interaction. not only r websites created 2 be viewed by a passive audience, but the net is also a place, unlike tv, where any1 can contribute. MySpace, Friendster…even Blogger lol ;-) r websites that can produce some pretty mundane, pointless stuff. as we have seen in class, the personal lives of strangers are abundant on the net. plus, unlike tv, the net is limitless…this means the possibility of more and more crap floating around (i have a friend who spends hours on end each week looking stuff up on Wikipedia – learning things that may or may not b true).

of course, the net isnt always boring or provoked by boredom. it can often b the opposite through the sharing of (valid) information, academic message boards, etc.

but all of this is just pretense 4 what i really want 2 talk about: internet jargon. wtf is the deal with net language? does it represent some sort of boredom with the structure of the english language?

of course, poets have been subverting the english language 4 centuries – does this mean that webspeak is a form of poetry? i highly doubt it. poets go against the conventions of language because they are often highly aware of the language in the first place. someone in a chat room says “brb” merely because it is faster than typing “be right back.” if anything, webspeak shows an indifference 2 the english language.

internet jargon exists bcuz of a desire 4 convenience. i wood argue that convenience leads 2 indifference – how many peeple ask how their computer works, or how their bread is toasted?…we dont ask, we just accept it bcuz all that matters is that we can play Doom and minesweeper and that our complete-breakfast is complemented by one serving of grain. i think im fairly accurate in my assumption when i say that most peeple who use webspeak have little concern for grammar and spelling – the convenience of the language forces them 2 be indifferent 2 “proper” english (even if it is just momentary indifference).

simmel says that the “essence of the blasé attitude is an indifference toward the distinctions between things” (14). langbauer uses “boredom” and “indifference” as almost interchangeable terms 2 describe a feminist escape from masculine narratives. warhols indifference is in forgetting things and not wanting 2 find meaning in them.

indifference and boredom seem 2 be so closely tied together that i begin 2 wonder if convenience (which often creates indifference) should be somewhere in the mix…it would certainly correspond with the introduction of “boredom” as a result of the industrial revolution.

omfg this is much 2 difficult 2 keep writing in this jargon. i suppose im so non-indifferent 2 the english language that this exercise has been anything but boring 2 me and rather strenuous. im gonna end right there.

Boredom, Expectation, and Intent

This post is somewhat inspired by Mike’s post: Jay-Z: “If the war calls for Warhols / hope you got enough space on your hall's walls”, Or: Jay-Z is not always a good rapper.

When the Vancouver International Film Festival was taking place, a group of friends and I went to go see a film called Klatsassin. The blurb about the film in the VIFF guide sounded really interesting:

“Screening as a World Premiere, this Cariboo-set Western is Vancouver artist Stan Douglas’ Rashomon-like exploration of time and perception, bound together to create BC history. Using the events surrounding the killing of a Tsilhoqot’in chief named “Klatsassin,” Douglas layers characters and events in five different time periods, separating the tangled skeins of constantly shifting stories and versions of the truth, to reclaim the past.”

Unfortunately, about forty-five minutes into the film, we began to think otherwise…

Basically, as we discovered, the film consisted of only about twenty scenes looped together in a seemingly random order. So, after about twenty minutes, we started seeing scenes we had already watched – then, after about thirty-five minutes, there were no new scenes – by the time the film was over, we had watched each scene at least three or four times. Needless to say, by the time we had been sitting there for an hour, we were shifting in our seats, sighing, and rolling our eyes. This movie was not what we expected.

When the film ended, director Stan Douglas went to the front for a brief explanation and a Q & A. We were told that the film we had just watched was only an excerpt from an eight hour long film!!! We whispered silent, “Oh my God”s to each other.

But then, we were told that the actual purpose of the film was to have it shown as a continuous screening in an art gallery. In this context, the film could be viewed by spectators coming in and leaving at different points in the narrative. It would be a different film for every single person who saw it – seeing things in a different order and coming to different conclusions as to who the killer was.

This is where Mike’s post comes in. Mike says: “…as a painting, Empire is pretty. It is realistic. If you projected it onto an art gallery wall within a frame, people could walk past and admire as they pleased, at their own rate, and be happy about it. But as a film it is infuriating, precisely because it won’t be a film.” When we were forced to sit and watch the movie in a theatre, it was boring because it destroyed all the traditional conventions of film. But as soon as we knew the actual intent behind Douglas’ film, we all agreed that it was brilliantly exacted.

But not everyone in the theatre found the repetition boring. During the Q & A, many audience members explained that they were not bored because they kept finding new details when they saw a scene more than once. Like Sherlock Holmes, some people are able to find the uniqueness and newness created in repetition. This is very possible in a film like Katsassin…but is it possible to find newness in the repetition of Empire? Without sound, without movement, and without detail, can we find new things after viewing this image over and over?

On a side note, during the Q & A, I discovered that over-analysis of something can be very boring. One woman in the audience asked Douglas a question about a couple rusty utensils hanging on the back wall in one of the tavern scenes. The woman was wondering whether the rust was meant to be a self-reflexive detail to symbolize the time that has passed between the contemporary viewing of the film and the historical setting of the film (she took about five minutes to ask the question, but this was the gist of what she said). Douglas replied by saying that it was a detail he was not even aware of.

Is forced meaning, where there is not supposed to be any, boring? Warhol claims that he doesn’t want us to find meaning in his work. In a piece such as Empire, the only way to really find meaning is through what we might call over-analysis (the only conclusions we can come to must be based purely on assumptions and inferences – not on any specific details). Perhaps Warhol finds this very analysis of his work as boring, and by telling us he does not want us to find meaning he is merely trying to save us (and himself) from the potential boredom of analysis.

Situationist Spidey

Here is a detournement of my own:

Hacking up a Boredom-ball

I have two cats, and I don’t think they are ever actually bored. Boring, yes. Sometimes they can be very boring. But when they are sitting around doing nothing they always seem very content.

Even if boredom is a uniquely human condition, I think we can still learn something from our furry friends. Assuming that my two companions do not have the capacity to be bored, I must ask the question: why not?

Science assumes that the human powers of reasoning and interpretation are far superior to the skills that animals possess. Humans, therefore, can search out and find meaning in things, whereas animals rely on instinct – the extent of their “meaning” relates only to survival and mating.

Hence, my two cats, without ever experiencing Warhol and without ever being exposed to any kind of critical theory, have singlehandedly discovered the postmodern solution to boredom. They can never be bored because they have no desire to find meaning or newness or originality.

They might lose interest in something, yes (as in those stupid coloured mice that sit in the corner of the living room, only to be played with once every few weeks). But losing interest in something does not necessarily imply boredom. Perhaps new stimulation comes along, or (similar to Warhol) perhaps my cats simply forget how much fun they were having with the string only a moment ago.

So why it is so difficult for us humans to be like the cats? I’m afraid that although the postmodern boredom solution works wonders for Colleoni and Martini, because we humans are born into a species which seems to inherently search for meaning, it is nearly impossible for us to empty our minds of it. To use an analogy: finding meaning is like understanding the sensation of touch – once you learn how to do it, you can’t consciously stop doing it. You can stifle it, or slightly ignore it to an extent, but it will always be there.

I wonder if children raised by wolves can get bored?

Justin Timberlake: Justified Boredom?

Is pop music boring?

Pop music is synonymous with the radio. Without mainstream play over the radio (and television) waves, pop music cannot exist. By definition, pop music is a genre of easily accessible repetition. Not only is each individual song an object of repetition, but the genre of pop music as a whole is based in repetition.

Okay, okay…arguably, repetition is the staple of any genre – there must be a common theme which unites. But whereas some genres such as ‘alternative’ or ‘punk’ exhibit a familiar sound shared by their artists, these are genres which also pride themselves on creating distinctness or even defamiliarizing themselves from the genre itself (in this sense, could we call Bjork a situationist?). At least, traditionally this was often the goal – the lines seem to be blurring a bit now that indie bands are becoming mainstream. But in comparison to other genres of music, pop thrives solely in familiarity, recognizability, and adherence to the status quo. Its goal: radio play. And this cannot be accomplished without normalization of its lyrics, themes, and sounds – if it doesn’t fit, it won’t get played and ceases to fall under the category of pop.

As we have discussed in class: repetition can be boring – and pop music, as I have explained, if full of it. Secondly, a search for meaning that doesn’t exist can also be tedious. Those of us who actively seek out meaning in pop music usually fail to find it. For the person who desires intellectual stimulation from their music, pop disappoints them – their effort in seeking meaning quickly turns to boredom as the search is revealed to be futile. Pop = aesthetic = boring. As Debord would probably say, pop music is the spectacle; it encourages passivity and is therefore a bad thing (granted, Debord would probably say it in a much more intellectual manner sung to the tune of a Britney Spears song).

But on the other hand, many would argue that pop music is the opposite of boring. Its upbeat and catchy tunes provide an immediate stimulation to drag us out of our boredom-induced stupors. Also, maybe we just perceive that we are overly familiar with pop music. Perhaps we need to look at it in a new light (like Sherlock Holmes does with the everyday) to find meaning. There is no rule that pop music must be devoid of meaning – maybe we just need to look harder to find it. In this case, listening to pop music seems like an even more dynamic activity than listening to other genres. Besides, there is also no rule that says we inherently need to find meaning in political or socially conscious bands – sometimes we can listen to Radiohead just as an escape, without even thinking of the significance of Thom Yorke’s lyrics.

As Susan discussed in one of her recent posts, it is sometimes the unknown which produces boredom. To those of us who are not politically aware of the world we live in Rage Against the Machine’s lyrics would be infinitely boring. The unfamiliarity of Rage’s themes would create even more passivity in the listener, as they would not even have access to the issues being discussed. In a sense, the music would cease to be political, the lyrics would fade into the background, and Bulls on Parade would just be another catchy tune on par with 50 Cent’s P.I.M.P.

But non-pop music can become boring in other ways as well. Motivation to get heard is a major factor. The Black Eyed Peas, believe it or not, actually used to make good music. Before they sold out, before they added some big-breasted tart to their group, and before they used loops of Justine Timberlake for their choruses, the Black Eyed Peas collaborated with the likes of De la Soul, Jurassic 5, and Mos Def to create an original sound (sorry for ranting about this, but the Black Eyed Peas really piss me off nowadays – they are a fine example of what I like to call “hip-hop-ocrisy”). BEP essentially became pop.

Non-pop can also become boring when a band produces the same re-hashed sound over and over. Coldplay may have continued to deal with important, thought-provoking themes, but their sound became so familiar that fans began to associate their music with the repetition of pop music. Radio stations latched onto this as well. Coldplay’s own repetitive techniques caused them to be perceived as pop, even though they may not have technically been “pop.” Essentially, they could have been placed under the heading: alternative pop.

Lastly, the repetition of one or two tracks from an album can give the perception that a band is boring. Usually, the singles that are played on the radio are the most pop-esque songs on the album – the songs that are most similar to other singles in the same genre. This forms a perception in the minds of people who never actually bother to listen to any of the band’s other music. Examples include the singles from Rage Against the Machine’s third album, or the numerous top-40 Kanye West songs. Even though the tracks may not be a wholly accurate representation of the band, they are the only ones that many people actually hear.

Conclusions:

I would argue that the reason that non-pop music can become boring is directly related to the mass consumption of pop music. Either the music becomes incomprehensible to its listeners (Rage), actually becomes pop itself (BEP), creates its own sameness-based subheading of a greater genre (Coldplay), or is overplayed and disregarded as pop music (Kanye West). Each of these transformations is in relation to pop music – not only does radio play offer an ultimate goal for struggling bands, but the over-exposure to this repetitive genre has dulled the minds of our youth, teaching them to be passive in their music listening.

The solution: obliterate pop music from Aaliyah to Jay-Z. Then, I think we would gradually move away from the urge for music to be a product of global mass consumption (granted, for this to work we would also have to destroy all capitalist ideology in order to stifle pop music from rising up again). In a world without pop music, some music might still be boring, but I believe it would be a much less dangerous sort of boring. I think the Situationists would be with me on this one. To quote Dead Prez: “Turn off the radio! Turn off that bullshit!”

Another Great Buseyism

Here are some words of wisdom on boredom from former alcoholic/ washed-up movie star Gary Busey:

"I learned that honking at geese keeps the boring away. Geese live down there in Malibu, and then they come by--Honk! Honk! They hear that and they wave their little wing at me, and they turn around and go back. If there's no geese, what do you do? You honk. Pretty soon geese will come. I've always had a way with birds."

Forget Adorno. Forget Kierkegaard. Forget Svendsen. All hail the genius of Busey.

In Case You Get Bored...

This is not really class-related... but for those who are interested, I am part of a literary magazine called Memewar and we are having the launch party for our second issue this coming Thursday. So, if you are sitting around bored on that night, then you should fight the boredom by coming out to the launch party.

It is this Thursdy (October 19th) at 8pm at the Marine Club. Cover is $8. There will be poetry, music and beer. You can also check out our website at www.memewaronline.com

Everyday Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition Repetition…

What is the everyday? And is it boring?

The Oxford English Dictionary defines the word ‘everyday’ as: “to be met with every day; common, ordinary.”

When we think of the everyday, we think of routine. Things that we do or experience on a regular basis: feed the cats, go to work, go to school, buy groceries, wash the dishes (or put off washing the dishes for yet another day), etc, etc. As Langbauer states:

“For these theorists [Barthes, Certeau, etc.], the dailiness of urban life reflects the subject’s placement in the senseless replication and endless monotony of commodity capitalism. The boredom of everyday city life is the boredom of the assembly line, of one thing after another, of pieces locked in an infinite series that never really progresses” (The City, the Everyday, and Boredom: The Case of Sherlock Holmes, 81).

Think about what you consider to be your everyday life. Is it boring? Maybe…but the greater question to ask is whether or not the everyday has a purpose. By asking this, I don’t mean to ask if the everyday has meaning (meaning in the sense of some sort of semi-intellectual/thought-provoking essence), as meaning and purpose are two separate things; an action may be devoid of meaning but still be highly functional. All I am asking is whether or not the everyday has a practical use.

Is eating boring? Is brushing your teeth boring? We carry out these actions every day. In fact, we often perform these actions more than once in a day (disclaimer: I’m not judging anyone if they only brush once). These actions hardly lead to any edifying enlightenment, but they are necessary in keeping us from starving or losing our teeth. Everyone always seems so down on the actions they deem to be repetitive and without meaning, but many of these actions are the everyday activities that keep us alive. When you think about it, sleeping, eating, and cleaning are the most boring activities we can partake in, but yet watching TV and playing video games (which might actually constitute some manner of inherent meaning) take all the ill repute. Hardly anyone would classify taking a shower as boring – it is something that just needs to be done, so no one complains about it.

Much of the everyday is essential to our survival, but even at a less fundamental level, the everyday’s functionality runs its course and surpasses boredom. We think about money so we keep from going broke (well…most people), we put on our clothes in the morning so we avoid the embarrassment of showing up to school or work nude, and we sit on the toilet for hours on end so we don’t dirty our underwear. So is the everyday boring? Yes. But it appears that functionality renders boredom obsolete, or at least makes us forget that an action is boring in the first place.

We cannot escape these facets of daily life. The everyday is inescapable. Take, for instance, the individual who goes to Mexico for a week on holiday – this person escapes the daily office life for seven days, but he still eats, drinks, pisses, shits, and sleeps no matter where he is. We need the everyday. If we didn’t have it, we would all be roving around wondering what we should do next.

But the everyday includes much more than just these fundamental practices. The repetition of making your bed every morning can be boring. Riding public transit for an hour to get to school every day can be tedious. These actions are functional, but the ends of their functionality are far less important than the ends of eating and proper hygiene. So the question remains: is this less functional part of the everyday boring?

I would argue that it comes down to an individual perception of the everyday. In the case of Sherlock Holmes, the everyday does not appear to be a repetition of events; rather, it is an ongoing mystery laid out for him to solve. Holmes is not bored with the insignificant details of the everyday – he embraces them as if they were something completely new and original each time he is confronted with them. So what is it in Holmes that allows him to enjoy this insight, and keep from being bored with the trivialities of life?

Essentially, because of his point of view, I would argue that Holmes does not even experience the everyday – or, at least, he does not experience the everyday in the general sense of the word. If Holmes sees absolutely nothing in his life as mere repetition of the ordinary, then there is no absolute dailiness inherent in his day-to-day life. Holmes’s ‘dailiness’ is more accurately described as differentness; likewise, his ‘everyday’ is more accurately described as un-everyday. Boredom aside, Holmes’s paradoxical dailiness reveals that the definition of the everyday is an individual perception.

Adorno seems to agree with the notion that individual perception of the everyday determines what is mundane: “If people were able to make their own decisions about themselves and their lives, if they were not caught up in the realm of the eversame, they would not have to be bored. Boredom is the reflection of objective dullness” (Free Time, 192). If something is not perceived as being repetitive, then it can cease to be boring, and can cease to be a part of the everyday. As Billy explained in class, taking one’s dog for a walk every night can be an enjoyable event – to Billy, even though the action is repeated daily he does not see it as a repetitive action, but as a different experience each night. Hence, Billy's dog walking cannot accurately be classified as a factet of the everyday. But to someone else, that responsibility may be just that: a responsibility that is both required and performed day after day, where only the action itself is noticed and "walking the dog" becomes the same activity time and again.

So who are we to judge what constitutes the everyday and what does not? The everyday is an internalized notion, unique to each human being. Just as we can’t accurately call someone else bored (even though they might be boring), we also can’t assume what characterizes the everyday (even though it might be everyday to us).


***
On a side note, the way Sherlock Holmes views the everyday made me think about patients who suffer from Alzheimer’s. These people experience everything as a new sensation, completely free from routine and free from Watson’s foolish preconceptions. Ironically, Alzheimer’s patients lead highly repetitive lives – but their perceptions of the world around them prevent them from seeing how very boring and cyclical their lives really are. To them, like Holmes, there is no such thing as the everyday.