Jason: The Kaja thing lasted until about 6.
Kiril: was she good?
Jason: I thought it was pretty awesome.
Kiril: yea?
Jason: Can’t synthesize the awesomeness for you though.
Kiril: why not
Jason: Semiotics, photography, horror, grief…
Kiril: what was so cool
Jason: It’s just too much.
Jason: Haha too much work to synthesize dude. You just had to be there. Though, you can read the book when it comes out.
Kiril: haha
Kiril: well gimme a highlight then
Kiril: without synthesizing
Jason: This is who the talk was abt. http://www.gerhard-richter.com/art/paintings/
Jason: A highlight… blah. I decline.
Kiril: whatevs
Jason: http://criticism.english.uiuc.edu/2008%20Fall%20pages/Silverman/
Kiril: mm
Jason: Oh yeah… Kaja did say that she is no longer a post-structuralist.
Jason: She is a post-poststructuralist.
Kiril: hahaha
Kiril: what does that mean, structuralist?
Jason: Now she is oriented towards psychoanalytic phenomenology.
Kiril: what is a postpoststructuralist
Jason: Not entirely sure.
Tag Archive for 'phenomenology'
Phenomenology
I told Kiril, “I think I’m a phenomenologist now. Actually, I think I’ve always been, but didn’t realize it. I found a ton of the same things I’ve thought and said in Husserl.”
Videos
I also told Kiril, “I don’t think I’m going to make videos anymore. Takes too much work, especially to make them not-boring.”
Minutiae
- I was much more sad about learning that George Carlin died than I expected.
Links
- Slavoj Žižek on toilets and ideology. (Via Kiril.)
More Digital Youth in East Asia
There was less on this day that caught my interest.
Roland Nozomu Kelts made an interesting point about the way in which certain technologies allow for you to feel things that you did not and wouldn’t have felt before. For example, after you get an answering machine you experience lament when you return home and discover that no one has called, but this is a new feeling that you didn’t experience before you got the answering machine. Unfortunately, Kelts appears to be a little anti-tech in an unnuanced way, ending with, “Let’s not be cut off by the machine,” and, in the question and answer session, exclaiming, “I think [Twitter] reduces you to like 90 characters. It’s so childish. It robs us of our ability to participate in the public sphere.” This was ironic since I had updated Twitter the day before to say that I was at the Digital Youth in East Asia conference.
Anne Allison had a great presentation on Takimoto’s Welcome to the N.H.K.. She questioned the relationship between the appearance of the keitai and our seemingly increasing isolation from each other.
Ken Kissoker wrapped up the conference by saying, “On Facebook you can list your relationship status as ‘It’s complicated.” And I think that’s the answer to these questions about digital youth — it’s complicated.” Brilliant. ( ^ _ ^ )
Links
- Seems a lot of people (who don’t have a direct interest in Japan) are sharing this Time article about “elder porn” in Japan.
- Eat your heart out Merleau-Ponty — I’M IN LOVE WITH THIS CANE!
Digital Youth in East Asia
Just a few things that caught my interest at the Digital Youth in East Asia conference.
Joo-Young Jung said that in Tokyo 88% use mobile internet and 26% have a computer, and Wan-Ying Lin said, “Time spent on the Internet has no direct/linear relationship with civic engagement.”
Sophia T. Wu started off her presentation by saying that her daughter goes to sleep with her mobile and has said that she would die without it. She also noted that young people use the camera phone transgressively (taking pictures of teachers) and to capture transgressive moments, argued that the “photo archive becomes experience archive,” and claimed that the cell phone allows these young people to “leave without escaping.”
In other words, they can surpass spatial boundaries while still staying within their confines, much like the Internet — though the same could possibly be said for older technologies, such as the book or the letter. Note: I’m thinking this now, not then. Though, one thought that I did have then was, “How is a cell phone different from a soccer ball,” in the sense that each allows for particular games to be played and various forms of play to emerge.
Cathy N. Davidson had a great point I hadn’t thought of or heard, though it seemed obvious afterwards, about how the play that people engage in on social network sites such as Facebook are actually a form of labor, because they generate revenue for the host site. As she said, DIY (do it yourself) quickly becomes DIFT (do it for them).
At the end I remarked that something seemed to be getting lost in discovering that this form of play was actually labor, because what seems crucial is that these individuals are experiencing this labor as non-alienated labor. David Slater said, “Alienated labor? I don’t even know how you would measure that.” But others defended my critique and said there was a need to consider what I would call the users’ experience of pleasure, though they might use different terms.
This was all followed up by some wonderful pecha kucha presentations, but the only one that I am going to mention is Minerva Terrades’s on technoaffectivity and users’ experiences with their cell phones.
Minutiae
- I had to switch to being a day-timer for the conference.
- As I also tweeted, “I lost my map of Tokyo and feel like a complete failure.”
- At the geikaiwa dinner a friend talked about being ignored as a gaijin even though he speaks fluent Japanese.
- I got my first twinge of power differential anxiety in Ni-chome when I met a gay guy who was a furita.
One way in which my re-engagement with phenomenology has been productive is in thinking about pleasure. In particular, it has helped to shift my emphasis away from motivational hedonism and the assertion that we are perpetually seeking to optimize our experience of pleasure (though I do still believe this to be the case), towards an emphasis on the way in which consciousness is primarily a hedonic experience in addition to being an “intentional experience.” In other words, my concern with pleasure is rooted in the fact that we engage with hedonic concerns on a continual basis — such as every time we shift in our chair for a better position, stop to adjust the temperature, reach for a snack, try to decide how much longer we can continue to work, or reflect on how we feel about what we are reading. It is my hope that framing my interest in pleasure in terms of phenomenological experience rather than motivational hedonism will serve to appease some of the resistance that I have encountered towards considering human actions through this lens.
Another point of resonance that I have found between my engagement with pleasure and phenomenology is the attention that is given to a distinction between physical and mental events. Husserl (in Moran and Mooney 2002:90-92) derives this distinction from the psychologist Brentano, and uses it to argue that the pleasure to be found from certain objects, such as “a battle of centaurs, seen in a picture or framed in fancy,” is not located in the objects themselves but is derived from an intentional experience of said objects. Husserl does recognize, however, that not all experiences are intentional, such as being burned by fire, such that he also implicitly recognizes the existence of non-intentional experiences of pleasure. Thus, Husserl (implicitly) distinguishes between the intentional experience of pleasure as a mental “feeling” versus the non-intentional experience of pleasure as a physical “sensation.”
In my own engagement with pleasure I have relied upon semiotics to think through this distinction between physical and mental pleasure. For example, among the three major types of signs that were identified by Pierce, icons, indexes, and symbols, I use indexes and symbols to talk about physical and mental pleasure respectively. (I do also use icons to distinguish a particular experience of pleasure, but that is not relevant here.) Just as an index refers to a sign that has a spatiotemporal relationship with that to which it refers, physical pleasure also has a spatiotemporal relationship with its cause, such as the pleasure that is derived by scratching an itch; and just as a symbol refers to a sign that has a contingent relationship with that to which it refers, mental pleasure also has a contingent relationship with its cause, such as the pleasure that is derived by completing a puzzle. Thus, indexical pleasure, which I also refer to as biological pleasure, is the same as the non-intentional experience of pleasure as a physical “sensation,” and symbolic pleasure, which I also refer to as cultural pleasure, is the same as the intentional experience of pleasure as a mental “feeling.”
In itself, this is not particularly remarkable. I raise this parallel in part out of my own pleasure (no pun intended) at finding this resonance between conclusions I have arrived at in my own thoughts and concerns present in the early beginnings of phenomenology. It is also helpful to find support for this distinction I had already been making (which, I realize, is also not particularly remarkable in itself) in an existing theoretical framework.
However, one terribly important point this distinction between biological and cultural pleasure does raise is the issue of the “anarchic body,” which “can multiply, distort, and overflow the meanings, definitions, and classifications attached to experiences, and in this sense … is capable of discursively undefined and unintelligible pleasures” (Oksala 2004:112). Poststructuralists are quick to point out the way in which all of our experiences are culturally mediated. What is left out of this assessment, though, is the way in which all of our experiences are also biologically mediated.
Another distinction that is rarely made apparent is the degree to which an experience is culturally mediated. A good example of this is the constant concern I have observed, among Americans at least, with whether or not one is ill. Individuals will sit and reflect on the sensations they are experiencing in an attempt to discern whether they are ill or not, and what illness they are stricken with if they conclude that they are ill. These sensations are certainly mediated by culture at all points, but my goal here is to call attention to the degree of cultural mediation that takes place at the point when one considers whether or not they are ill versus the point at which they are diagnosed with a particular illness, either by themself or by someone in the medical profession. I argue that there is a marked difference between the level of direct cultural mediation that occurs at the outset, when one is working through the process of semiosis to interpret the experience that they are having and this mediation is weak, versus the level of direct cultural mediation that occurs once a diagnosis has been made, and this mediation is strong. A similar process can be found with the respect to the shift in the degree of cultural mediation that comes to bear upon us before and after we discover the “meaning” of a curse word, as well as the process that many go through when they shift from the initial discovery of how pleasurable it is to stimulate their genitals to the meaning this experience is imbued with once it is understood to be “masturbation.”
Thus, the distinction between indexical/biological pleasure and symbolic/cultural pleasure, or physical and mental experiences more generally, is a site to explore the way in which experiences are both biologically and culturally mediated, or bioculturally mediated, which, as of yet, appears to be underinterrogated and undertheorized. What is at stake here is a nuanced and robust consideration of the way in which the body comes to bear upon our negotiated experience of culture. For instance, this distinction between biological and cultural pleasure allows for a consideration as such of the disconnect that some individuals experience when they have come to accept the dominant hedonic discourse on the pleasurability of sexual relations with the opposite sex, yet find that their body does not produce the expected pleasurable sensations, which in turn calls for a reassessment of the hedonic discourse that this individual has come to accept. This distinction also allows for a consideration of the mutual experience of pleasure at both a biological and cultural level, such as when an individual has a pleasurable sexual experience, where it is not only the “actual” sex that is pleasurable but also the idea of having sex that is pleasurable.
Husserl, Edmund. 2002. “Consciousness as Intentional Experience.” In The Phenomenology Reader. Dermot Moran and Timothy Mooney, eds. London: Routledge.
Oksala, Johanna. 2004. Anarchic Bodies: Foucault and the Feminist Question of Experience. Hypatia 19(4): 97-119.
I am glad to have re-discovered phenomenology. It appears that my theoretical and intellectual stance was informed more by phenomenology than I had initially realized. Though, given the implicit influence of phenomenology on prevailing French theorists such as Foucault and Bourdieu, it is unsurprising that I could fall in line with phenomenology without it being identified by name. (I did, however, have a course in phenomenology and existentialism as an undergraduate, so that is where I was initially influenced by the perspective, and I have implicitly recognized it as part of my theoretical and intellectual stance.)
In particular, I now understand that my concern with sensations, feelings, experience, embodiment, affect and emotion can be rooted in phenomenology as a foundation, starting point, and overarching umbrella for these concerns.
I can also now see how my interest in micro-logical phenomenological experiences has made it difficult for me to connect my work to “larger” theoretical concerns. For me this phenomenological plane has nearly comprised the entirety of the grounds for my theoretical concerns, and it has been satisfying simply to consider subjectivity in terms of the experiences that make up a particular subject position in an attempt to capture “what it feels like” to occupy and live through that position.
This is partially what has motivated my concern with developments in communications technology, where individuals’ lived experiences change into something new as these technologies become attached to them as subjects and come to bear on their experience of the world. A simple example of this can be found in the anxiety many individuals experience when they forget their cell phone at home and feel as if they are missing a piece of themself. Another example that is harder to place and substantiate is the ubiquitous appearance of search capabilities, captured best by Google, and the way it generates frustrations with existing technologies, such as printed books, because they do not offer the same search functionality. Yet more difficult to place is the effect, if any, that these search capabilities and other information management technologies have on the relations we have with others. For example, just as we hunt through pages of search results and refine our search terms only to settle on one of the results, while believing that there is still a better result out there, does this same logic come to bear on contemporary romantic endeavors, where the right person can be found if only we search harder and better without ever being satisfied with what we find because there must be something better out there?
I do understand now, however, that this phenomenological plane alone is not enough in itself to sustain a project, and so, one of my goals is to figure out how to bridge my phenomenological concerns into a “broader” project. This will be assisted by identifying examples where this has already been achieved so I can draw upon them as a model for my own work.
Library
As my last task before leaving town I stopped by the library to get some books to read in Tokyo. I ran into Christobal and we had a good conversation about theory and our summer plans. He was returning Stoler’s Race and The Education of Desire and getting some other Foucault related stuff.
The library itself, though, was a fail. One of the main books I wanted (Queer Phenomenology) hadn’t been taken off of reserve yet, and the only guy who could do it wouldn’t be back for two weeks. I also wasn’t able to find this other book I really wanted (The Anthropology of Experience).
To further my demise, I got a parking ticket — eight minutes late. I’m not a big fan of the inefficient design of parking meters.
The Trip to Texas
I seem to have gotten used to these fourteen hour trips. I kept myself amused and awake by listening to music, NPR, and The Amber Spyglass; thinking; and by making a music video.
Links
- There were two incredible segments on NPR about parents grappling with their children’s experience with a so-called gender identity disorder. One child was taught to be masculine using aversion therapy, and another child was being given a hormone treatment to delay puberty. This quote by a parent about their experience of finally breaking down and getting their child a dress made my eyes water: “I thought she was gonna hyperventilate and faint because she was so incredibly happy. … Before then, or since then, I don’t think I have seen her so out of her mind happy as that drive to Target that day to pick out her dress.”
Allerton Park
I decided to take a trip to Allerton Park with Kiril, Martin, and Bharath. We bought kites, but didn’t use them, though I did blow some bubbles while we were there at least.
The park was beautiful, as usual. It’s really one of my favorite places, and it’s amazing that it exists in the midwest, carefully hidden away. It was a great setting for my conversation with Kiril about pleasure and morality.
One odd feature of the trip was our constant references to Tarkovsky’s film Stalker. Most of my friends, and most people in general, haven’t seen or heard of this film, so it was somewhat surreal for it to filter our collective experience of the park, such as when we were walking through the forest.
After the park we stopped in the small town of Monticello, and my companions were incredibly disturbed by it for some reason. Bharath said the town felt as if it were seething with a repressed urge for violence. I’d been to the town before, and it also reminded me of some of the small towns in Texas, like Brenham, so I suppose that is why I was unperturbed.
Minutiae
- I brought up my conversation with Martin about the ineffability of smell, and Bharath mentioned this book on perfume that touches on “the human experience of scent itself.”
- In the evening I saw this incredible high school jazz band perform at the Iron Post.