Monday, January 27, 2014
In a world...
Very cute little movie. Lake Bell wrote, directed and starred in it, great cast all around. Somehow I was never in any real fear for Bell's character, but it was still an compelling and funny narrative. Made me almost miss LA. This will make me pay more attention to the narrator during trailers. Speaking of which, watch this film's trailer here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NuxApRnekWc
rating: 4 out of 5 microphones
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Pariser's Filter Bubble
In The Filter Bubble, Eli Pariser explores
how personalization on the Internet is surreptitiously altering what people
read and how they think. He weaves together strands of technological data,
media studies theory, political and journalistic history, psychological
effects, and pop culture references into an intriguing argument. In their
attempt to personalize everything, Internet entities (Google, Facebook, etc.) create
a “filter bubble” that is actually stunting creativity and frustrating
Democracy. In this book, Pariser attempts to push back against this trend of
hyper-personalization and “burst” the filter bubble. Eli Pariser is an author,
political and Internet activist, chief executive at Upworthy (a website devoted
to “meaningful” web content), president of MoveOn.org (a progressive public
policy activist group), and co-founder of Avaaz (a global civic organization).
Pariser
begins by diagnosing the problem he calls “the filter bubble”. In a competitive
race for users’ clicks and advertisers’ dollars, Internet giants have begun
catering every user’s activity around that user’s online preferences and habits.
But because the filter bubble is solitary (it pulls us apart), invisible (we
don’t know what algorithms are working where), and involuntary (automatic
participation means you must opt out,
not in), the whole filtering process is largely unnoticed and therefore
particularly dangerous. The aggression and analytical ambition that fuel
start-up companies do not magically disappear when those companies become
Internet giants that “rule the world”. (181)
The filter
bubble commodifies user data and activity for sale to the highest bidder—typically
advertisers who are keen on showing their products to interested parties. In
its infancy, the Internet was celebrated for its disintermediating potential,
but celebrants failed to predict how the absence of a middleman would affect
content and attention. For example, in the realm of journalism, it is now much
easier to go to an aggregated news site that collects stories from smaller
sources, all of which are relevant to you,
than to spend the effort clicking around those sources directly. However,
“while personalization is changing our experience of news, it’s also changing
the economics that determine what stories get produce.” (69) Thus, instead of
reporting on important or worthy news, news agencies have a vested interest in
publishing stories that are likely to garner lots of online attention.
Internet
giants are offering us more convenience, but “in exchange for convenience, you
hand over some privacy and control to the machine.” (213) As technology
continues to develop, even non-Internet corporations are figuring out new ways
to pursue consumers. Whether creating their own media content or augmenting
your “reality” to highlight their products, these companies are coming after us
with more aggression and less transparency.
Pariser
describes the delicate cognitive balance that has historically been the driving
force behind human creativity and ingenuity: our brains automatically “tread a
tightrope between learning too much from the past and incorporating too much
new information from the present.” (84) Thus, by measuring the novel and
unknown against the established and known, we can integrate useful news ideas into
the canon of human knowledge. Yet, the filter bubble removes the unknown from
our horizon, which lessens the impetus (and possibility) to learn and innovate.
“Left to their own devices, personalization filters serve up a kind of
invisible autopropaganda, indoctrinating us with our own ideas, amplifying our
desire for things that are familiar and leaving us oblivious to the dangers
lurking in the dark territory of the unknown.” (15) Any cognitive dissonance or
tension is flattened until a user’s Google self, Facebook self, Amazon self,
etc. all become the same and any chance for serendipity or identity
experimentation is nullified.
The dangers
of the filter bubble extend to the political sphere as well. As people are currently
only being shown news on issues that are “relevant” to them, public issues that
should be of at least marginal interest to everyone are ignored. Because the
same symbol or event means different things to different people, a fragmented
public is harder to lead. “Democracy requires citizens to see things from one
another’s point of view, but instead we’re more and more enclosed in our own
bubbles. Democracy requires a reliance on shared facts; instead, we’re being
offered parallel but separate universes.” (5) Citizens must be willing and able
to see beyond their own narrow self-interests, but the filter bubble makes this
increasingly difficult.
Pariser
concludes with a few possible solutions to the filter bubble dilemma. Consumers
can try to vary their online activity, breaking habitual website patronage, and
choose transparent sites like Twitter over Facebook, which is notoriously murky
about its privacy policies. Companies can do their part as well. By being more
transparent, giving users the option to surf through relevant or novel
material, they can break the over-personalization cycle. Furthermore,
government can be more responsible about holding companies accountable
(regarding their user’s control of privacy) instead of succumbing to their
deluge of lobbyists.
This book
advances the understanding of Mass Communication in several ways. Primarily,
Pariser is to be commended for bring to the public’s attention (this book is a
NT Times bestseller) an issue that is universally important. This affects all
of us[1], in
almost every area of our lives, and whether or not you agree with Pariser’s
diagnosis, the issue certainly warrants discussion. Furthermore, this book
encourages people to be more conscious about what media they consume, from the
mundane websites we check every day to why we vote the way we do. Few areas of
electronic activity are unaffected by Pariser’s argument.
Overall, The Filter Bubble is largely successful in communicating its
message, but there are some failings. Pariser neglects to acknowledge the fact
that most of the entities he is criticizing (Google, Facebook, etc.) do offer users the option to turn off
personalization and return pure results. It’s simply that the default settings
of the programs are geared towards personalization. True, most users may never
change (or even be aware of) the ability to turn these settings on or off, but
the possibility bears mention.
Pariser’s argument also runs the possibility
of turning on itself. Through personalization, Facebook and Google indirectly control our online
experiences, so Pariser’s solution is that they should expose us to content we
don’t want. This would, in fact, put then in direct control. But who decides what is important for everyone? Do
we really want Google and Facebook determining what is important for us?
Furthermore, what incentives would
companies have to sell their products online if they aren’t going to reach
relevant customers? Pariser decries Cass Sunstein’s Republic.com for advocating a naïve “fairness doctrine” (where
companies willingly sacrifice profits for a more Marxist Internet structure),
but then advocates a similar set of solutions. Will companies ever spend
resources on something that doesn’t contribute—and might even be detrimental—to
their bottom line?
It is difficult to tell if Pariser
resorts to hyperbole in order to scare the reader into agreeing with him. According
to Pariser, RFID chips, ambient intelligence, DNA, and behavioral data make it
possible to “run statistical regression analysis on an entire society.” (199)
Whether this dystopian vision of a techno-society is a plegitimate threat or
not remains to be seen, but at least Pariser’s experience in political and
Internet activism make it credible enough to consider.
Pariser’s argument is strengthened
with some brilliant ideas. The notion of a falsifiability
algorithm for Amazon—one that tries to disprove its conception of you with
random genre suggestions—is simple and (more importantly) practical, since it
would actually give the company a more accurate and dynamic picture of who you
are. Other suggestions, like “a slider bar running from ‘only stuff I like’ to
‘stuff other people like that I’ll probably hate’” (235), are less likely to
occur but noble suggestions nonetheless. His general approach to thinking about
personal information “as a form of property” (240), instead of merely
sacrificing it for a little convenience, is a positive step in the right
direction. Pariser’s Filter Bubble
moves us toward balancing the current asymmetries of knowledge, data, and
therefore power.
Pariser's TED talk on the subject can be found here: http://www.ted.com/talks/eli_pariser_beware_online_filter_bubbles.html
[1]
Well, all of us in the First World. But the way things are moving, the problems
of the filter bubble are flowing into Third World societies as our technology
does. Moreover, sites like Facebook and Google are global in scale.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
World War Z
A few years ago I heard someone say that America's current obsession with zombie mythology would eventually culminate (before its inevitable decline) with Pitt's World War Z. Turns out he was right.
Many interesting things about this movie. I like that it is a "serious" zombie movie that isn't afraid to throw around the word "zombie". I like that it wasted approximately 7 seconds before throwing Brad Pitt into the fray. I like that it was a political but not heavy handed. And I liked the ending—not bleak, but not Hollywood.
I appreciated the surprise action catalysts (in a zombie film, these are usually loud noises that draw the undead whilst the heroes are sneaking around) like Gerry's wife calling him on the phone I forgot he had, or citizens of Jerusalem rejoicing. However, there were typical predictable ones as well. How many times in a single mission can the same person "accidentally" kick a can, step on a glass bottle, and smack a filing cabinet with their crowbar? C'mon Welsh scientist.
Rating: 4 out of 6 zombies
Friday, September 20, 2013
Proposing a Return to Analog
I usually read a lot every day, so at night I need to read something completely unrelated to help me fall asleep. It needs to be theoretically interesting but packed with so much unnecessary detail so as to put me to sleep. Dyson's tale of the simultaneous rise of atomic weaponry and digital computation does just that. He spends a lot of time on the complete genealogical backstory of every person who had anything to do with computers, so if that is your thing, this book is incredible.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Actual Drinking Buddies
What feels normal at first, starts to feel slow halfway through as you wonder when the "action" is going to happen, then near the end you realize that it has been happening all along. Good writing, good acting, great directing, and it didn't end how I thought it would. Delightful!
Rating:
4 out of 5 pints
Friday, June 28, 2013
Present Shock
Present Shock: When Everything Happens Now by Douglas Rushkoff is sort of like Keen's Digital Vertigo, but a bit less disjointed. Rushkoff describes what he calls a "presentist" culture where everything is about the now. We have confused "flow" with "storage", kairos time with chronos time, and our current anemic state is the failure to reconcile two fundamentally different levels of identity: digital, where we are spending most of our (mental) time, and analog, where we still live and must return to inevitably. We are addicted to possibility and stimulation as the digital realm provides it for us. Also, Rushkoff's media ecologist tendencies sporadically flare up.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Man of FEEL
Saw Man Of Steel last night. Really enjoyed it. Gritty and re-boot-ish enough but still fun and campy in just the right places. With the exception of the random military woman saying Superman is "kind of hot" near the end of the movie, I was happy with my decision to suspend disbelief and enter its world. The Krypton technology, visual effects, awesome use of sound, etc. everything was great and sucked me right in. Even the story (specifically, the father/son relationships and self-control/fate issues) got me. I was on the verge of tears like 8 times. Despite our pre-movie debate where she claimed to prefer DC comics to Marvel, Vicky was not impressed with Man Of Steel.
I will make her watch the most recent Green Lantern and DareDevil movies until she repents.
Rating:
1/1 Seinfeld montages set to Superman music
I will make her watch the most recent Green Lantern and DareDevil movies until she repents.
Rating:
1/1 Seinfeld montages set to Superman music
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Side Effects may include
Steven Soderbergh's latest film Side Effects had me hooked from the long, opening tracking shot that panned from a zoomed-out city shot, graaaaadually, over to a zoomed-in shot of a single apartment. So in the span of the first minute or so, you already have the feeling of a single, lonely individual somehow stuck in the cold, mechanical structure of society.
That kind of thoughtfulness is rampant in this movie. Then, halfway though, the movie jumps genres. Everyone in our living room watching the movie let out a collective "Whaaaaaaattttttt?!??!?!" Great commentary on our proclivity to prescribe and the power of scorn/greed.
You should probably see it.
Rating: 4 1/2 out of 5 pills.
Storytelling Animals
Jonathan Gottschall's The Storytelling Animal has been my pleasure reading for the past week. If I wasn't in my final two weeks of Seminary I would probably write more, but I'll just say that this book was really engaging. I blitzed through it. Gottschall explores how and why human beings are addicted to fiction... so much so that we even create it in our sleep! The notion of story serves no apparent purpose, yet it has defined/motivated/explained human activity for millennia.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
His name is Mud
Saw Mud last night.. The poster (and even the trailer, to some extent) are misleading. It is not a tough-guy tale of Matthew McConaughey fighting for the love of his life, Reese Witherspoon. Well, it is, but only sort of. Really, it is a great coming-of-age-type story about a 14-year old boy, his best friend, and their adventures that teach them much about manhood, sex, love, hope, trust, and snakes. Those damn snakes. The two best "reviews" so far, that I have heard, came from my wife and friend right after we left the theater.
Luke: "I feel like it was a really good movie.... but I can't say exactly why...."
then 10 minutes later, walking home
Vicky: "I was constantly surprised! I never knew what was going to happen next!"
This is an impressive feat for a film that is over 2 hours and really takes its time divulging information. And yes, McConaughey's shirt does come off, but this is an "indie" film, so they make you wait 110 minutes for it.
Rating: 4 out of 5 snakes
Luke: "I feel like it was a really good movie.... but I can't say exactly why...."
then 10 minutes later, walking home
Vicky: "I was constantly surprised! I never knew what was going to happen next!"
This is an impressive feat for a film that is over 2 hours and really takes its time divulging information. And yes, McConaughey's shirt does come off, but this is an "indie" film, so they make you wait 110 minutes for it.
Rating: 4 out of 5 snakes
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Cosmopolis
What a beautiful movie. The dialogue and cinematography make for a hypnotic combination. The characters speak as though they are members of two societies—one that you want to live in, and one that you are afraid you already do. This movie is not necessarily accessible, but is poses funny and fascinating questions about wealth, technology, politics, time, power, and more. Pattinson is great.
Also, I never thought I would watch the hunky vampire from Twilight get a rectal exam in a limousine while lecturing an employee on her financial and sexual acumen.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Grace and Law, Sing Along!
Everybody started freaking out about Les Miserables, and I didn't get it. When Hathaway and Jackman started winning awards for the their performance in it, I didn't get it. Then I saw the movie.
Now I get it.
I mean, good God, just look at this image...
...and try not to get emotional.
I was never big on musicals (though I'll never forget the first DVD I ever purchased), but damn, Victor Hugo knew what he was doing. The treatment of Grace is incredible: Javer was a formidable villain, a powerful picture of the attraction and ultimate futility of the Law, and Russell Crowe was not nearly as poor a singer as I was led to believe.
I think everyone on earth can relate, in some degree, to Jean Valjean's struggle for redemption that lasts a lifetime. Are we ever free from our sketchy past? How many good deeds are required to absolve ourselves? I mean, if I told you this guy could sing like an angel possessed, you would laugh, right?
Monday, January 14, 2013
Agony & Ecstasy
For Cinema, Arts, & Theology class we are exploring the life and work of various artists in reality and on film. In The Agony And The Ecstasy Charlton Heston plays a somewhat petulant Michelangelo, squaring off against Pope Julius II (Rex Harrison). Their relationship is actually quite touching. For some reason I found myself more empathetic towards the Pope. I know, I know, tortured artists must be anti-social, defiant, self-absorbed, etc. Interesting themes of calling vs. burden, ego vs. humility, and, well, love. Why do we subject ourselves to an emotion that exposes us to such lows and highs, such agony and ecstasy?
Friday, January 11, 2013
Looper
It possesses many strengths and advantages inherent in the genre of Science Fiction (exploration of the obtuse, cool future gadgets, etc.) but none of its weaknesses (mercurial pacing, flat acting, etc.). The questions it raises about destiny, love, and what is worth living (or dying) for are rather profound. I want and love completely different things than I did even 5 years ago; I can't imagine 25 more.
Also, there were no less than three moments in the film that had me leaning forward, about to fall out of my chair, doing the Home Alone style face, complete with my palms on my cheeks. Very unpredictable and engaging!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
From Angels to Aliens!
In From Angels To
Aliens Lynn Schofield Clark explores the resurgence of interest in the
supernatural among teenagers. She theorizes this is happening, at least in
part, as a result of the legacy and suffusion of evangelical Christianity in
American culture. A generation ago, religious identity was something one was
born into; increasingly it is becoming something we chose for ourselves,
selected from various narratives presented in media and religion. (bricolage?)
People are less religious but more “spiritual”. This means that while people
(especially youth) are dissatisfied, confused, or disappointed with the job
science and religion have done providing ultimate answers for life, they remain
open to the notion that there may be more to our world than meets the eye.
In
their quest to form a religious identity, people develop certain strategies.
Culture, as Clark defines it, is the store of public symbols and stories that
flesh out and reinforce these strategies of how things should be done, making
them seem sensible and even meaningful (10). Film and television offer
satisfaction because they symbolically resolve conflicts that are troubling to
our society. Although teenagers may develop their taste in media based on what
fits their “style”, their exposure to various ideologies is one of the ways
they gather materials from which they construct identities. Identity is a
result of both parenting and exposure to cultural products.
Within
evangelicalism there has been a tendency to draw lines in the sand: us vs.
them, sacred vs. secular, holy vs. demonic, etc. In what was initially an
attempt to convert people to Christianity (“repent or burn!”), evangelicals
ended up simply encouraging Americans to accept the notion of cosmic,
incomprehensible forces at work in (or responsible for) our visible world. Thus,
today popular teen culture is rife with elements of the supernatural—vampires,
aliens, demons (does The Hunger Games
dystopian future count?) etc. Horror stories, especially those with
supernatural elements, “allow young people to experience and relieve fears
about death, the afterlife, and in general, the forces in life that they
believe are beyond their control—which includes quite a bit, from the teen
perspective” (64). Since the Divine can be somewhat ineffable, we occasionally
explore it through its negation.
Clark
then roughly categorizes her research subjects (interviews with teens and their
families) as having one of five various approaches. They refer to teenagers’
feelings on supernatural and organized religion, and range from loving one
while hating the other to the other way around. Science and religion are not
necessarily at odds with each other, as they might have been a few decades ago.
The line between them ranges from non-existent to blurry to firm, depending on
the teen’s family history (were they raised in a religious household?),
parenting style (do they limit media exposure?), socioeconomic status (how
marginalized to they feel?), etc. The group in the middle seems the most
normative or typical: seekers, or “customizers” are individuals who actively
select from various sources to make sense of their worlds and to meaningfully
participate in them (118). Some teens desire to distinguish between religion
and myth but have trouble doing so.
Teenagers’
wide range of perspectives on the supernatural is reflected in the ways their
parents raise them. Some parents see religion as harmful; some see it as
providing a good moral foundation. Media is approached in much the same
way—some let their kids be exposed to everything available in to help them make
“informed” decisions; some carefully filter the media their teens consume.
Clark states that the purpose of her book is not to celebrate some semiotic
democracy where infinite meaning can be constructed from a number of media
texts, but to demonstrate that “the choices teens have are limited…and were
influenced by their positions and their perceived relation to culture and its
resources” (231). Popular culture is neither completely toxic or redemptive;
the goal is simply to encourage teens (and everyone) to think and discuss the ways
in which they process the media they encounter, since it is frequently easier
to discuss media than personal life experiences.
Clark, L. S. (2003). From angels to aliens: Teenagers, the media, and the supernatural. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Communication as Culture
In James Carey’s Communication as Culture (1989) he
presents a new way of thinking about communication. Carey challenges
established perspectives, where communication is viewed merely as transmission of
information, and promotes studying communication from a cultural perspective. He
draws upon the work of previous scholars (Clifford Geertz , John Dewey, Max
Weber, Walter Lippmann, etc.) to apply a cultural studies methodology to the
study of communication. Carey seeks to “demonstrate how media of communication
are not merely instruments of will and purpose but definite forms of life:
organisms, so to say, that reproduce in miniature the contradictions in our
thought, action, and social relations.” (9)
Carey
suggests two ways of viewing communication. The transmission view (the more common
of the two) uses terms like “imparting”, “sending”, and “transmitting” to convey
one party giving information to another. It involves “the transmission of
signals or messages over distance for the purpose of control.” (15) This view
connotes the desire for control and power as it is derived from the spread of
Europeans in their global colonization, and although technology and science
have separated communication from transportation, some of the residual implications
remain.
Carey
opposes this with the ritual view, which uses terms like “sharing”, “participation”,
and “association”. This view is “directed not toward the extension of messages
in space but toward the maintenance of society in time; not the act of
imparting information but the representation of shared beliefs.” (18) Like the
transmission view, the ritual view has grown away from its religious origins
but still retains some of its metaphoric roots. There is an intellectual aversion
to this view because of the unfortunate assumption that science somehow
operates in a vacuum whereas culture is full of human error. Thus any method
that studies the activity of people within a culture must be flawed. So for
example, a transmission view of a newspaper would see it as a medium for
disseminating disinformation to exert control over a population; a ritual view
would see reading the newspaper as a shared experience by people in which their
worldviews are collectively shaped and confirmed.
Particularly
in America, communication studies (both mass and interpersonal) “have aimed at
stating the precise psychological and sociological conditions under which
attitudes are changed, formed, or reinforced and behavior stabilized or
redirected.” (44) American studies of communication have not given serious
consideration to the relation of forms of expression (art, religion, etc.) and
social order—how do meaningful symbols, and symbolic acts, affect real change?
Cary
suggests conceiving of communications as a cultural science as that will constitute
a more “human” model and deal with experience as it normally is encountered.
Culture is complex web of meaning which humanity has created, and “we are
challenged to grasp the meanings people build into their words and behavior and
to make these meanings, these claims about life and experience, explicit and
articulate so that we might fairly judge them.” (59) People exist simultaneously
in many different sub-cultures and a cultural approach to communication studies
offers us helpful insights that traditional (transmission) views do not. “Culture”
and “Communication” are not neatly delineated, finite artifacts or practices. A
ritual view allows for a more nuanced understanding of human societies where
the complexities of culture (and the influential, dynamic activities and forms
of communication) are accounted for. Carey desires to “press forward with a
form of cultural studies that does not perforce reduce culture to ideology,
social conflict to class conflict, consent to compliance, action to
reproduction, or communication to coercion.” (109)
The
second half of Carey’s book explores more specific facets of technology and
culture. He wants to debunk the rhetoric of an electronic utopia. “Electronics
is neither the arrival of apocalypse nor the dispensation of grace. Technology
is technology; it is a means for communication and transportation over space,
and nothing more.” (140)[1]
Carey offers a brief history of communication studies in North America and
traces the relation between time and space from local to global. He also traces
the history of the notion of “future” as it has been used to propel us along with
false promises of newer, better forms of human communication and the
eradication social issues altogether. Carey concludes with a detailed look at
the oft-neglected technological importance of the telegraph, the advent of
which marked the first time in history that information and transportation were
separated. Most of the attention Carey’s Communication
as Culture has received has been paid to its first half. The ideas he lays
out, although fairly simple, are a radical break from the way communication has
traditionally been studied.
[1] It is
perhaps here that Carey’s ideas seem somewhat dated; he was clearly writing in
a pre-internet era.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
We are what we like (fandom as identity)
In Fandom: Identities and Communities in a
Mediated World, Jonathan Gray, Cornel Sandvoss, and C. Lee Harrington have
edited a collection of essays that explore how fans make use of their chosen
texts and justify why this exploration is valuable.
The
editors give a brief overview of “fan scholarship”. Its first iteration took
inspiration from de Certeau’s notion of bricolage, where fans make use of mass-mediated
narratives in subversive ways. John Fiske and Henry Jenkins describe how fandom
was “a collective strategy, a communal effort to form interpretive communities
that in their subcultural cohesion evaded the preferred and intended meanings
of the power bloc”.
Public
recognition and understanding of fandom has profoundly changed over the past
several decades. Moving from broadcasting to narrowcasting, fans are no longer
ridiculed but courted as advertisers and producers compete for their dollars
and eyes. People now communicate (their identities, worldviews, etc.) through
their fandoms.
The
second wave of work on fan audiences focused on the replication of social and
cultural hierarchies with fan subcultures. Rather than see fandom as a means
for empowerment, the taste hierarchies among the fans themselves emulate the
wider social inequalities. Fans essentially maintain social and cultural
systems of classification. “Blackberries, iPods, PSPs, laptops, PDAs, and cell
phones all bring fan objects out with their users to the subway, the street,
and even the classroom. These changing communication technologies and media
texts contribute to and reflect the increasing entrenchment of fan consumption
in the structure of our everyday life.”
The
third wave of fan studies offers new answers to the question of what they are
for. Fandom itself is not an object of study, but part of the fabric of our
everyday lives, and can provide insights into our daily existence. The study of
fans can help us understand how we relate to others, meet challenges, identify
our place in the world, and how we read the mediated texts that facilitate all
of the above.
This
third wave is broken into six themes: emphasis on the symbolic and
representations that mark contemporary mediated worlds, the dissolution of
boundaries between different textual forms (high & pop culture), changing
relationship between physical and virtual space, interplay between global and
local in globalization, new identities arising out of the transformation of
production and consumption in light of social and technological change, and the
formation of conflict in mediated discourses (fan-tagonism).
Cornel
Sandvoss notes that synthesizing fan studies with reception aesthetics enables
us to explore aesthetics, a field sometimes ignored by critics, as a subjective
category with objective criteria. Matt Hills advocates the generalized hybridity of contemporary media academics (academics
who are also fans of what they write about) as helpful in avoiding the fallacy
that scholars are objective, bias-free bringers of free thought. Rebecca
Tushnet discusses the difficult notion of copyright law within the
transformative fair-use doctrine. Technology gives fans greater creative control
and re-mix capabilities, and there can be semiotic dissonance between what an
author (profession or amateur) intends to produce and what others think the author has produced. Alan
McKee argues that fans of theory are no different than fans of other cultural
phenomena. Similar to Hills’ contention, he advocates fan studies as a way of
opening up the methodologies of analysis. We all bring something to the table
(as a “fan” of some bias, approach, ideology, perspective, text, or trend) and fan
studies bring this out into the open. There are quite a few other essays here, but these are the ones that interested me. Henry Jenkins also does the epilogue and sums up the increasing salience of fan culture.
Gray, J., Sandvoss, C., & Harrington, C. L. (2007). Fandom: Identities and communities in a mediated world. New York: New York University Press.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Honor, Patronage, Kinship & Purity
In
Honor, Patronage, Kinship & Purity
(2000) David A. deSilva gives us a look at first-century cultural values and
explains how understanding them will allow for a greater understanding of the
world which produced the New Testament. To hear and understand scripture
correctly, one must correctly understand the world in which it was written.
DeSilva’s goal, as he puts it, “is to introduce the reader to another dimension
of the context within which the New Testament texts were composed and within
which they effected the purposes of God for their readers” (19). When we are
better readers of scripture, we are better disciples, and can actively
influence the communities into which God has called to live.
The
text is divided neatly into the four titular categories: honor and shame,
patronage and reciprocity, kinship, and purity and pollution. For each cultural
value there are two chapters: one chapter expounding on its role in the
Greco-Roman world of the 1st century, and a subsequent chapter
integrating that exposition with our understanding of the New Testament. This
book posits an enlightening set of ideas into discussions on contextualization,
historicity of scripture, and even basic New Testament hermeneutics by
situating the bible firmly in its 1st century Mediterranean culture.
DeSilva’s text would appeal to Biblical scholars and curious Christians alike.
DeSilva begins with honor and shame. The notion of honor was one of the
foundational values for the first century world. Their world was “every bit as
socially sophisticated as ours and, in some ways, far clearer and more
articulate about the values that defined and guided each group” (27). A person
had honor based on the family into which they were born, but honor could also
be achieved through virtuous dealings and building an estimable reputation
(like a solider who demonstrates extreme bravery and loyalty). The quest for
honor kept all members of a group in check. If one deviated from the honorable
path, that person would bring shame upon themselves and the group(s) with which
they were affiliated. While the Jews were once the dominant group, they had for
generations been subject to the laws of other groups and struggled to maintain
their identity. This meant a Jew decide between Torah adherence, which gained
them honor within their Jewish circles (but contempt from everyone else), or
acquiescing to the dominant cultural values and the consequent shame from their
own kind. The early Christians, like their Jewish peers, promoted cultural
values that were fundamentally at odds with those of the dominant Greco-Roman
culture (like ultimate loyalty to God instead of Caesar). Christians
experienced everything from shunning to execution as resistance in their
commitment to Christ, and so neighbors and friends attempted to dissuade them
from their path. New Testament writers frequently encouraged their audience to
remember that God’s ultimate code of honor and shame was more important than
the temporary, worldly one. While Christians today are certainly familiar with
the notion of earning a certain group’s approval, we are generally
uncomfortable with conflict and shame, and so avoid discussing or rebuking it
in others. However, if we can become more sensitive to the cultural text of
honor and realize what a core cultural value it was for New Testament
audiences, we will become attuned to clearly hearing what the New Testament has
to tell us about our own personal value (self-respect and validation) and what
gives us our worth (86).
The
next value deSilva deals with is patronage and reciprocity. The first-century
Greco-Roman world was one “in which personal patronage was an essential means
of acquiring access to goods, protection or opportunities for employment and
advancement” (96). Patronage was not only allowed but promoted, and it is tied
to honor in the sense that the honorable thing to do was remain loyal in one’s
relationships. Patronage even crossed socioeconomic boundaries; the term
“grace” (for New Testament audiences) would have had connotations of
reciprocity among the rich, poor, and even among humans and gods. Grace meant
showing favor that was selflessly interested in the benefit of another. It was
not mandated to repay someone; the cultural shame of failing to reciprocate
grace or favor was enough. Grace was like a dance in which honor or favor was
freely given to a client, patron, or friend, and was freely repaid in kind. The
New Testament authors reframed this discussion in terms of God being the
ultimate benefactor for us. He[1]
seeks us out to give us life; this formation of a grace relationship “runs
contrary to the normal stream of lower-echelon people seeking out brokers who
can connect them with higher patrons” (130). As the ultimate mediator of God’s
favor, Jesus voluntarily gave his own life to grant deliverance from sin and
death. Not only that, but Christ continues to intercede on our behalf before
the Father. In the face of such incredible grace, our only response must be
more grace, in the form of the words we speak and actions we live out. This
attitude rightfully re-orients our worldly pursuits around those that bring
honor not to ourselves, but to God. Failure to promote the kingdom of God, who
is our supreme benefactor, results in disloyalty to the one we should only
please (156).
Kinship
was vital to first century life. One’s identity, like their honor, was tied to
the reputation of their lineage. Jewish culture placed even more value on one’s
parents and family. Harmonious living with one’s family involved cooperation in
maintaining their honor, hiding the shame of kin, and mutual trust in the
pursuit of honor and preserving the family lineage and reputation. Divorce
brought complications, but in general the man had dominion over the woman, who
was expected to stay at home to raise and educate the children to carry on
their family’s trade. With family ties so strong, it becomes more radical to
think of how many disciples left their families to follow Jesus. “It is now
attachment to this Jesus that determines whether or not a person is in the
family, rather than the person’s bloodline or natural lineage” (200). Christ
redefined the “descendents” of Abraham to allow for anyone to be adopted into
the new family of God. As members of God’s household, we are now bound to its
code of honor and values. As the church, we have a great opportunity to
re-imagine what it means to treat each other as those joined by the blood of
the Lamb.
Purity
is something of a foreign notion for modern evangelicals. We have made a holy
God available to everyone and have done away with the need for professional
mediation. However, we do understand what when food falls from a plate to the
ground (or dirt is brought inside the house) that an unhealthy boundary has
been crossed and contamination has occurred. This contamination disqualifies us
from entering in to the presence of a holy God. To avoid pollution and boundary
crossing, maps of people (and their bodies), locations, and times must be made
known, and sacrificial systems developed to atone for a transgression of the
sacred. “Only as we come to appreciate the revulsion of sin (and feel revulsion
ourselves) will Scripture have done its work building the all-important barrier
between our desires and forbidden things…” (269) Jesus essentially re-wrote the
maps of who, what, where, and when was permissible. Ritual moments are
important for helping us remember boundaries and retain holiness.
I
found deSilva’s text to be enormously informative. We have grown accustomed to
reading, understanding, and applying scripture within our own contemporary
cultural context; it is incredible how rarely we stop to think about what, say,
Paul’s letter to the Ephesians might have sounded like to the Ephesians themselves. DeSilva’s methodology is effective. By
breaking down cultural values into four manageable, finite (though dynamic)
concepts, it becomes possible to isolate specific intersections and
applications of concrete first century ideals with New Testament passages. This results in a richer understanding
and appreciation for the New Testament, the world into which its texts were
written, and even possible implications for discipleship in today’s world.
This
is particularly relevant for churches that are trying to live out the Gospel
amidst a generation of people whose identities are fragmented, individualistic,
and dynamic. How can someone who lives alone understand the value of kin? How
can a kid who sees people get famous for whoring themselves out possibly
understand the value of honor? As deSilva notes:
Studies of Generation X have shown
relationship to be the way of reaching those born into a postmodern worldview,
the way to show the reality of our faith. A church can no longer afford to be
mainly a group of people who agree on propositional truths…but must become a
group of people committed to one another in love, loyalty, and mutual support
(239).
We live in a culture that celebrates the “now”[2]
and the “me”[3].
When we read the New Testament we cannot help but bring these presuppositions with
us to the text. DeSilva is trying to help us understand what the New Testament
might have actually sounded like to those it was originally intended for; this
will help us be more self-aware of our baggage and at least attempt to come to
the text without an agenda, willing to be shaped by it.
Discussing
the established cultural norm is a great way to understand how powerful Jesus’
words and deeds actually were. For example, understanding how powerful
individual and group honor was in the first century sheds light on the constant
New Testament reminders to hold one another accountable in discipleship of
Christ (82). Also, understanding that violation of purity required a three-phase ritual process of
restoration in some groups underscores the radical dynamics implied in
statements like “everything is now permissible” or when Peter had a vision that
all food was now acceptable (266). Modern readers typically gloss over
pollution mandates, but deSilva shows how this would have meant a complete
break of traditional ways of living for first century readers!
I
found this text to be a quick and engaging read. It reminds us that we have
systematized our theology based on a few letters of advice and encouragement
written to real people two thousand years ago. Only once we understand their
world can we understood how it would have shaped their reading of the letters
and documents that became our New Testament. By attempting to understand the
original context of the New Testament, we can become more adept in living it
out (as disciples of Jesus) in our own.
DeSilva, D. A. (2000). Honor, patronage, kinship & purity: Unlocking New Testament culture. Downers Grove, Ill: InterVarsity Press.
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