Discovering the Field and Parting Ways

Although I have been an avid fan of popular culture all my life, it took a while to realize popular culture could intersect with my work in academia. The change came when I was a Masters student in American Literature— a place where the fact that I’d rather be watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer over slogging through Nathanial Hawthorne was not the kind of comment you openly made in front of colleagues. I had always felt like a literature major merely by default. I loved to read, was apparently good at textual analysis, and to my knowledge, there weren’t many other paths to travel that rewarded those two factors. Then, as part of a teaching assistantship, I encountered James Berlin’s article, “Poststructuralism, Cultural Studies, and the Composition Classroom,” and discovered that popular culture had not only a place in academia but was also a field of study where rigorous textual analysis was being applied to the kind of texts I truly loved. I soon discovered there where whole journals devoted to the topic and a rich history of critical thought on popular culture (most of it lacking, in hindsight). To use a literary reference, I experienced a tremendous sea change, and was soon a doctoral student in the area of rhetoric, composition, and cultural studies.

In hindsight, Berlin was an odd introduction to integrating pop culture into academic studies and composition classrooms. After all, Berlin’s work, by his own admission, was much in line with the Birmingham Center for Contemporary Cultural Studies (a school I would now heavily criticize). Though the aforementioned essay discusses how Berlin brought popular culture into the classroom, his social-epistemic rhetoric ultimately had little to do with discussing actual popularity or how his students integrated popular cultural texts into their worlds. In fact, the focus was on how their worlds could hardly be called their own considering the problematic place these texts held in the larger power contexts of society. Following in the theoretical footsteps of Aronowitz, Giroux, and Shor, social-epistemic rhetoric strived to fill a savior function. Students (in theory) were taught the semiotic codes of their hegemonic culture with the hopes that they would come to resist these codes and become more aware, humane, and democratic citizens. Sure, a television show might have made it into Berlin’s classroom; however, the focus was on how students had a cultural pre-disposition to interpret the show through the lens imposed upon them by the ideological villain-of-the-week: capitalism, hegemony, jingoism, etc. With all the emphasis on postmodernism and poststructuralism in Berlin’s late work, the entire project was oddly centered on a misplaced, elitist, and overly-rational faith in Enlightenment at its core: give students the power of reason and they will realize their “true” selves are under attack from a malicious culture industry.
  
Nevertheless, Berlin, gave me permission to bring popular culture into my first forays of teaching composition. Most of my colleagues had little interest in following me down this path. They couldn’t wait to finally have a captive audience of students to preach to about the brilliance of their own favorite novel. I was mostly accused of pandering and just trying to make the class “fun” for my students (though why fun would be a bad thing is something I’ve yet to figure out). The irony is: my students were not having fun. In fact, they were resistant, suspicious, and outraged at every turn. If we analyzed commercials or print ads, they rolled their eyes as if to say: they’re manipulative; we get it. One of two results came from asking them to write essays about one of their favorite television shows and how its semiotic codes were implicit in social ills. One, I would receive a truly appalling essay that went through the perfunctory moves of so-called “critical thinking” but offered no sense that the student truly believed a word of what they had written. Or two, I would receive a brilliantly composed essay where the student clearly knew how to play the grade game. The conclusions of these essays were the most telling. They always had either an implicit or explicit: so yeah, but I still love the thing you forced me to critique.

And they should.  It took me a few years to realize that this is a woefully unproductive way to study pop culture or bring it into the classroom. Turning students against the things they love is an odd pedagogical goal. It also (willfully?) ignores the complexity of concepts like taste, pleasure, and entertainment itself.  I started to care less what pop culture texts "meant," "should mean," or what effects the texts maybe, kinda, probably, likely were having on culture. I jettisoned the notion that I was some hero that needed to "save" my students. I don't want to a.) assume they need to be saved or b.) imply pop culture is something evil that one needs saving from. In many ways, I'm still trying to figure out where I'm at now. Most of the time, I don't even like saying I do "Pop Culture Studies" due to the negative connotation baggage. It's probably more accurate to say I do Taste Studies. Not as catchy. Probably sounds even more potentially frivolous than pop culture studies often gets accused of. And Taste Studies, if I can make that a thing, is a potentially harder beast to describe as it combines network theory, systems theory, psychoanalysis, neuroscience and any other tool that helps explain people's encounters with and reactions to popularity.

Good thing I have a blog, I guess. 

And Today the Miley Meta-Criticism

Ok. So the internet got a little crazy with the whole Miley thing yesterday. I saw a lot of good and a lot of bad analysis and conversations. So what happens today? Well, some people are still pushing the same button. “Twerk” has probably made some considerable leaps into the top echelons of our lexicon.  MTV is enjoying people actually discussing something that happened on their network. And then there are these: 

1. Complaints that all the complaining does nothing to actually change the entrenched cultural  structures of sexism, patriarchy, and inequality that lead to the shaming that Cyrus received

2. Passive aggressive suggestions that while “you” (the collective “you”) were distracted by the Cyrus frivolity you were willfully and stupidly ignoring some more important cultural issue/controversy

In regards to number one, I completely agree.  Even the best written, most read blog post in the world is not going to change the deeper problems. It’s likely not even going to scratch the surface of those problems. Twitter jokes too, sadly do not change the world. However, although I agree with this sentiment it’s likely not for the same reasons as the people making it. That’s not really what I want to focus on right now, but let’s just say the title of this blog isn’t for the sake of using a big word. I am skeptical of any and all attempts to directly make change in the world. This is not to say we can’t make change in the world. However, we cannot change it directly; we must perturb or irritate cultural systems into changing themselves. Let’s just call that a coming soon.

Number two is the one that I find insulting. For one, the issues brought up in regards to Twerkgate 2013 were far from frivolous even if they may have come from a frivolous award show. I don’t believe people are directly affected by culture as much as some cultural critics do; however, that doesn’t mean discussing people’s reactions is a worthless pursuit. And I’m sorry, but just because critical attention was given to Twerkgate for a day does not mean people don’t have other concerns. There is such a thing as divided attention and intellectual multi-tasking. Talking/discussing/ranting about Miley for a moment doesn’t mean the human brain suddenly stops remembering all the other problems with the world. That’s ridiculous. Now, it’s a fair point to observe that other issues in the world don’t receive the same sustained laser sharp focus and this does suggest something about cultural priorities. But suggesting it was frivolous to stop for a moment to consider the slut shaming and racial appropriation issues of that Miley Moment we all went through is just another example of writing off popular culture as some irrelevant, shallow, Otherness that can be avoided or stepped out of for an objective perspective. 

That, my friends, is a dangerous and elitist position to hold.

Miley's Slut-Shaming and the VMAs' Version of Teen Culture

Newsflash. Last night in pop culture a young girl whose appearance does not conform to traditional signifiers of “femininity” did crudely, over-the-top, tastelessly, hyperbolically raunchy things that a million male rock and pop stars have done before her. But don’t worry, she was properly slut-shamed, accused of needing religion, and judged harshly for it despite being happily engaged, displaying no signs of hard drug use, and probably more in need than anyone to give a giant middle finger to the squeaky clean Disney machine that her family pushed her into. Soooooooooo, what have we learned?

Slut-Shaming is Alive and Well

No real shocker here. The point here is not about the quality of Cyrus’ performance. Despite what I just said, I didn’t care for it. If the performance were boiled into a cup of tea, it would not be mine. But that’s really not the point. I don’t care if it were the worst thing ever broadcast on television. We live in a world where girls are taught from a very early age to be sexual and then subsequently bombarded with every contradictory and confusing message possible. When you freak out about Miley’s twerking, or tongueing, or gyrating, you play into the message: be sexual but there’s a line you better not cross. Cross it and receive the mighty hand of judgment. That line hardly exists for our culture’s males. 

Hating Teen Girls is an Old Norm

I wrote a lengthy article about Avril Lavigne back in the day because I was fascinated by the response to her early career. Here was a girl who actually played an instrument (at the height of Britney and Christina), had surprisingly feminist lyrics at times (and not in the passive “girl power” sense, rather in the actively “take your own power” sense), and whose style could best be labeled “tomboy.” And yet she was crucified predominately for supposedly appropriating punk culture. Even though she never claimed to be punk. Even though experimenting with different cultural styles is something virtually every teen girl does. If we’re gonna hate on teens for dressing in a way they feel looks cool, then we should probably point fingers back at every single one of our teen years.

Or take Taylor Swift who has lyrically and stylistically been about as tame as one can be. Yet, she’s dated a completely normal amount of boys for her age and receives her own share of slut-shaming for it. Sure, her perpetually fifteen-years-old princess fantasies are getting a little grating, but the leap to call her a slut is ridiculous (and probably says more about the accusers than they do T-Swift). And, like her music or not, she can rock a mean banjo.

There is a strain of deeply rooted mistrust, hatred, and suspicion for young girls in popular culture—as both performers and fans. The culture seems to want them sexy but not too sexy. Certainly not a sexy where they seem to be confident or in control. Certainly not while displaying style of hair or dress that are not traditionally “feminine.” It’s getting tiring. It’s been tiring.

The Kids are Alright

What you saw at the VMAs last night was not representative of teen culture.  Let me rephrase. It was representative of teen culture but only one version—a version offered by a gigantic mega-corporation with its head up its ass (because there just might be more money there). Don’t let what I’ve said so far suggest that I think the VMAs (or even Miley) are beyond critique. And a lot of critique I saw on Twitter was from MTV’s target demographic . . . and they did not like what they saw either. I’ve always argued that people (even teens) are much smarter than we give them credit for in regards to navigating popular culture. The brainwashed zombie theory should have died with the Frankfurt School if you ask me. I’m not going to go so far to say there’s a “real” teen culture out there because I don’t want to play into the authenticity trap. But there are different versions and permutations of that culture that bare no resemblance to what MTV showed us last night. There are thriving and fascinating versions of teen culture that fly under the radar of MTV and other major media outlets. Cling to that if you’re feeling horrified about the state of today’s youth.

At the same time, I easily fall into a trap I try so hard to avoid. By just positively highlighting the critics, I implicitly suggest that anyone who liked what the VMAs had to offer is wrong or misguided. That’s not my intention. Pop culture studies need to get out of the business of judging people’s subjective tastes and longing for non-existent authenticity (that judgment will happen anyways amongst the everyday consumers). We also need to remember that just engaging with something does not guarantee an adoption of its values.

Batfleck in Hindsight (Yeah, It's Already Not Worth Complaining About)

What have we learned from the Ben Affleck as Batman brouhaha? Can we even ask that a few hours later? Yeah, probably (unless you’re these people). Like much pop culture outrage, it burns passionately and brightly with about as much duration as the lamest firework in the value pack on the fourth of July. Personally, I’m not too invested in it. The first Superman reboot was pretty bad disaster porn so I’m not expecting a quality sequel regardless of who is cast. Plus, my bat-love doesn’t even come close to my Spider-Man allegiance.  Still, it’s worth seeing what we can take from this.

People Love to Rant (Shocking, I Know)

When popular culture officially made a love-child with social media, the result was a forum for the angry little critic in all of us. And this is a wonderful thing. As my own work argues, popular culture is best studied from a sociological/rhetorical standpoint. I’ve got little interest in dissecting and analyzing a text to death and suggesting what effect it has on culture en masse (see last post). Why and how people took to their Facebooks, Twitters, blogs, etc. to whine about Affleck will always be a more interesting conversation than any discussion of the actual film once it comes out.  Some of the tweets I saw will always be infinitely funnier than any line that gets written into the movie. By the way, people complained about Heath Ledger too.

People Are Invested in Characters

Again, hardly shocking news here.  Questions. Are certain kinds of characters more subject to representational scrutiny? Are characters from certain genres more likely to be scrutinized this way? What causes these deep investments with characters, and how does that investment become altered through varying representations of the character? What responsibilities (if any) do people put in charge of a pop culture icon have to fan expectations and desires? Does Affleck have a “no bat nipples” clause in his contract?

Ben Affleck/Batman is an Assemblage

Affleck might do a bang up job. I doubt it, but I was wrong once. Did I mention people complained about Heath Ledger too?  The thing is: Affleck comes with contextual baggage of cultural associations. These are different for everyone, but a generalized referent certainly emerges. The overwhelmingly negative backlash proves this. The touchstones of this referent can be seen most clearly in the kinds of comments people have made (his Daredevil and Gigli debacles seem to be big ones). Again, this isn’t exactly a mind-blowing observation (I’m trying really hard here, huh?).  But Batman, as a character, is an assemblage too (like any pop icon with a long history). No two people love Batman for the same reasons, but it’s more interesting to rephrase that as: no two people love the same Batman.  Take this further.  No two people love or hate the same celebrity (a celebrity being, to the general public, somewhat of a character his or herself). Mash the personal (but not without those cultural touchstones) feelings about a celebrity and a character together and you’ve got a complex network of varied investments ripe for exploration. 

Where might that exploration lead? It depends on what you’re interested in. But if all identities, to a certain extent, are characters we play, and if all identities are assemblages of who you believe yourself to be interacting with who others see you as, you might wonder how your own surprising, unexpected, or “out-of-character” actions/responses similarly disrupt other people’s expectations. I echo and alter a question from the previous section: What responsibility do you have to control your own expected image in the eyes of the Other (insert Lacan here). Can you? In fact, I want to take this opportunity to coin the term "being Afflecked" to refer to a moment where criticism highlights for people that they have a public identity assemblage that is not entirely their own.

We ended up pretty far from Batfleck at the end here. Which is what the study of pop culture should probably do.