about "The Birth of Biopolitics", lectures by Michel Foucault

The lectures transcribed in The Birth of Biopolitics are the sequel to those in Security, Territory, and Population, a book I read in March. Neither book title really describes the content of the lectures, and this is especially true of the sequel. But Foucault acknowledges this; the mishap is apparently owed to poor planning.

Now, the lectures' original subject, biopolitics, is the governance of phenomenon related to life and population--families, birth rates, disease, hygiene, etc.--and this is with an understanding that governance takes many forms, that population is a kind of construct, that multiple powers are in play, and so on (Foucault qualifies almost compulsively). However, Liberalism provides the frame of reference for understanding biopolitics, so we first need to understand Liberalism. Hence, The Birth of Biopolitics actually explores Liberalism's philosophy and development in terms of tensions which Foucault calls relations of power (Liberalism here being understood as the limiting of government for maximum (economic) effect given the natural phenomenon of the market).

Reading, I was interested but still found the content dry. The Birth of Biopolitics doesn't have the kind of insights I normally look for and value with Foucault. This is more of a history and articulation of a political philosophy than anything else. Mostly, I enjoyed some early sections tracing the movements from governance under a wise sovereign guided by truths to the invocation of a market place and population policed by the state to the limiting of modern government in response to the police state. But, in all, the most lively section for me was Foucault's explication of Adam Smith's famous "invisible hand" metaphor.

Notes:

• I re-read Security, Territory, and Population before starting this one and it was worth it.

dear prudence,

In the ensuing slump of days, moments and presence and details surrendered into the more easily categorizable "day" and "night"; one was for sleeping, the other, not sleeping. Pitifully, if only those two categories kissed in the permanent dusk of hopelessness, he could listen to Emo, maybe even enjoy it. But so relentlessly nameless were the times that nothing could be done.

Not until months later did he think to even look for her. When he did, he went about it craftily but efficiently, only looking in the most unlikely places: in the passenger seat, in the picture frame on his desk, and, early in the morning, lying next to him. Torture, a few days of this. Then he stopped and, on a sheet of wide ruled paper, wrote:

Today I listened to a song that not long ago reminded me of you. I hadn't heard it in awhile and, having come across it again, I feel now its connected not so much with you as with a time, a time that sounds ancient somehow, so I waited for dust to fill my nose.

Then I tried to think of an analogy: "You, your memory, is gum on my shoe: sticky at first, then less so, and then altogether less and less noticeable." But that sounded stupid and insulting and ugly--nothing like you. I know there is nothing like you. And I'll never not ever think of you again. I will think of you often at times, I expect. But now finally I'm getting on, I guess. Or,

But nothing else came to mind. So he folded the page, spelled her name on the front, and, with the magnet bearing the number for Poison Control, pinned the note on the refrigerator.

On the first of the month--16 days later--he restocked the refrigerator with fresh citrus and greens and a 12-pack of grape soda. Pushing closed the appliance door, he removed the note, walked to the study filing cabinet, and tucked the page away in the folder with his priciest receipts.

The New Girl sports her newness

This New York Magazine profile says a Zooey Deschanel is not an Apple product like we all thought. A Zooey Deschanel is actually a constant, expansive, and versatile market force carried out through a persona. And a Zooey Deschanel persona is a composite of associations--associations with sexuality, quirkiness (sometimes mistaken for "originality"), innocence, fun, and indie credibility with all its emphasis on authenticity and sincerity. People, especially those who fancy themselves hip and/or original, explore these conceptual areas for opportunities to escape consumer culture. But every attempt to step outside that culture just expands the Market's reach there (and beyond). A Zooey Deschanel is that reach manifest; her persona is singular in that it does not change whether on or off camera, thereby invoking a claim to authenticity and sincerity that empowers it to follow the hip and the original to new areas into which the market can flourish.


Notes:

The NYMagazine profile writer is aware and even seems vaguely complicit with the permanent marketing campaign of a Zooey Deschanel--until sticking this jab at the end using a Zooey Deschanel's own words:

Hearing the CD reminded me of how she had gotten very impassioned when I asked her if she and Gibbard bonded over music the first time they met. “I’m wary about this thing about being in the generation of social networking where people are like, ‘I am my musical taste,’” she said. “I am not just a collection of music. Or a collection of movies. I think that’s a thing that people romanticize: ‘Oh my God, she likes this band so she is a dream.’ I’ve definitely learned that you can easily get stars in your eyes. I’ll meet directors and they’ll be like, ‘I love Godard!’ And they love screwball comedies and they love all these things I love, and then it’s, like, ‘Wait a minute, that doesn’t mean they can make movies.’“ 

Just because somebody likes something doesn’t mean ... anything, really.”

Right there a Zooey Deschanel shoots down the sole reason she is appealing, and apes the very reaction that people have to her: A Zooey Deschanel is so cute because she likes Hello Kitty! A Zooey Deschanel is a composite of associations and likes that constantly advertises those likes, thereby associating a Zooey Deschanel with whatever associations the audience has with the objects being liked.

In a sense, none of this is unique to a Zooey Deschanel, but it is perhaps taken to a new level and with a new audience.

I first saw a Zooey Deschanel in an Apple product commercial, and I noticed the face design that says, "You are looking at me" (or, "I am a thing that is looked at").

The Higgs, part 2

Back in July when the apparent Higgs Boson discovery was news, I posted here

The physics almost-news about the Higgs boson is simultaneously the most interesting and most boring thing going right now. Maybe this narrative conflict will resolve itself in a nice anti-climax.

This GQ article, "The Higgs Boson: Steaming Particle of Bull$#!%", seems to offer me exacting validation. Is it true that this is the thing that explains the existence of all things? No, "It just isn't true."

Angry Chair

Having watched both the (American) Democratic and Republican conventions a little each night, I found Clint Eastwood's improvised moment with the empty chair during the Republican convention to be the most compelling and meaningful part of the whole charade. But the pundits and critics, who claim to be ready for something authentic and substantive, finally got something that was just that, and they immediately rejected it.

Eastwood said he had cried when Obama was elected (presumably because it was such a powerful moment for a nation with a long history of racism). I take him at his word, and believe he was moved like so many others that night. So what was this moment with the chair all about?

Here's what: The chair was empty, signifying an absence, and speaking silence. This prompts the audience to wonder, Where is the Barack Obama I voted for? Because I don't see him anywhere.

Eastwood begins a sort of pitiful dialog with the missing Obama. He is attempting to recreate a ghost, the faded remains of the projection of his own hopes and dreams from four years ago: "So, Mr. President, how do you handle promises that you have made when you were running for election, and how do you handle them? I mean, what do you say to people? Do you just, you know--I know people were wondering. You don't handle that. OK."

Soon the projection lashes out, judging by Eastwood's reactions: "But, I thought maybe as an excuse--what do you mean shut up?" Here, the projection has taken on a life of its own, and is no longer merely a canvas. The candidate Obama from 2008 is no longer a willing, cooperative partner in this game of imagination. The exercise dissolves, leading Eastwood to his moment of resignation: "And I think it's that time. And I think if you just step aside and Mr. Romney can kind of take over."

Eastwood is hardly a champion for Romney, though: "A stellar businessman. Quote, unquote, a stellar businessman." His talking points covered, sarcastically. Finally, in a turn away from the chair to the listening audience, Eastwood delivers his real message, one of disappointment and disillusion with the whole process: "And, so, they (the candidates) are just going to come around and beg for votes every few years. It is the same old deal." And then, "We don't have to be--what I'm saying, we do not have to be metal masochists and vote for somebody that we don't really even want in office just because they seem to be nice guys or maybe not so nice guys ... "

It's a shame the whole exchange was written off as crazy talk by a misguided old man. Eastwood attempted to inject a moment of truth and sincerity into an obscene display of delusion and dishonesty, but instead he was rejected and held up as proof that the rest of the display is coherent and the system works.

Notes:

• Eastwood badly misread or misunderstood his audience, who they were, and where they were coming from. He may have been misguided in several other ways, too, arguably, but his main point stands.
• His means of communicating was a little unorthodox, so for this reason, too, he was rejected.

Humanities

In a recent interview, Noam Chomsky was given the prompt, "In your new book, you suggest that many components of human nature are just too complicated to be really researchable." He replied,

That's a pretty normal phenomenon. Take, say, physics, which restricts itself to extremely simple questions. If a molecule becomes too complex, they hand it over to the chemists. If it becomes too complex for them, they hand it to biologists. And if the system is too complex for them, they hand it to psychologists ... and so on until it ends up in the hands of historians or novelists. As you deal with more and more complex systems, it becomes harder and harder to find deep and interesting properties.

about Slash by Slash

A few months ago I read Duff McKagen's It's So Easy (And Other Lies), but if I could read only one Guns N' Roses-centric autobiography, I'd read Slash because the latter offers more thrills (courtesy sex, drugs, and rock n' roll). That said, I'm glad I read both because they are different kinds of autobiographies and don't compare.

Slash is an American rock music institution and his autobiography works as such; it's a tell-all that only reinforces the myth because it can never tell enough. Every juicy detail leads you to ask, And then what? And then what? And what was that like?

Duff's autobiography is more traditional; it traces a personal and spiritual journey, one man's rise, fall, and redemption, sharing wisdom gained along the way; Duff has undergone a transformation and, though rock remains important, life is a wholly different venture for him now. Slash on the other hand is just Slash but older and with a relatively cleaned up act.

One thing, though: These two books have reinforced a suspicion I had about Nikki Sixx's autobiography, The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star--that some creative marketing contributed to its making.

Notes (and highlights)

• Mostly, Slash's version of Axl and the demise of real G N' R is that Axl just got too controlling and was either oblivious to, or totally unconcerned with, the needs and concerns of others.

But, more generally, " ... we didn't have a good line of communication among us about any of these issues, so the end result was serious misunderstanding. Since these points of interest were never discussed, since there was never a conversation about how to adjust our game plan to take everyone's needs into account, we kept doing things the way we had in the past, which considering that we'd changed caused us serious internal tension." Later, "None of us stood back and took a moment to ask one another or ourselves, 'How do we do this? How can we get everyone together and working and satisfied?' We needed to be clear-headed about it; if one thing didn't work, we'd need to keep trying. But we didn't do that."

• On hanging out around LA in the 80's: "I saw a lot, I liked very little, and I was fucking bored the entire time."

• On the past: "So I did everything possible to put distance between yesterday and the present. I've always been that way and I still am. It is why I don't have any memorabilia to speak of: I don't have gold and platinum records, only the guitars that mean something to me."

• About this girl Megan he had been living with for months, spent Thanksgiving with her family: "Before I knew it Christmas was around the corner and Megan started planning a lavish party: she was way into decorations, she bought a fondue maker, and she invited all of our friends to her winter wonderland. It was one of  the most bizarre things I had been involved with for a long time, and the fact that I was straight made that feeling pretty hard to ignore. The day before the party, she came home with about $400 worth of useless garbage that she'd bought at the market to decorate the house. That was my breaking point. I watched her decorate our place, thinking all the while, I don't even know who you are. We had the Christmas party, we had our friends over; and as soon as they'd gone, I set about telling Megan that she had to go as well."

• On hanging out with James Hetfield: " ... I remember that there was a girl that James wanted to fuck and I let him take her into my bedroom. They were in there for a while and I had to get in there to get something, so I crept in quietly and saw James head-fucking her. He was standing on the bed, ramming her head against the wall, moaning in that thunderous voice of his, just slamming away, and bellowing, 'That'll be fine! That'll be fine! Yes! That'll be fine!'"

• Slash was co-written by Anthony Bozza.