consumerism

Jonathan Safran Foer (01/19/2011)

brittany — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

London, England

Jonathan Safran Foer spoke about the issues in his most recent book Eating Animals to a packed house at the London School of Economics. I haven’t read the book yet, or either one of his other two titles Everything Is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, so I went bracing for a preachy rally full of vegetarian dogma.

For those of you who have read the book, you probably know that I had no reason to fear. I’m a vegetarian, but both vegetarian activists and passionate meat eaters alike bother me. I tire of vegetarian propagandists shoving violent pictures of animal cruelty in people’s faces in an attempt to convert the nonconvertible. Just the same, I grow weary of telling people I’m a vegetarian and fielding questions like “No meat? What the hell do you eat?!” “Why? It’s natural to eat meat, y’know” or my favorite, “Ok, but jamon you eat, right?”

Thankfully, there were no leaflets handed out for either cause. Rather, I was captivated by Safran Foer’s social and environmental observations gained from the three years of research he put into the project. Safran points out that at this point in society’s development, everyone can recognize that eating meat is an “issue”, something we care about. However, voices from both sides are overly judgmental.

Safran Foer says vegetarian activists have helped create this strict dichotomy between meat eaters and non-meat eaters so much so that people do not see the benefits of just cutting down on meat consumption. “They have created a framework in discussing this so that they feel there are only two options: you’re a vegetarian or you’re a carnivore. And, most people cannot condition themselves to become a vegetarian… I think most people can condition themselves to eat less meat.” According to Safran Foer, if Americans can attempt to not eat meat for just one meal every week, the influence on the environment would be the same as taking five million cars off the road.

Vegetarians are often teased that they have canine teeth because humans are meant to eat meat naturally. Perhaps that was true during times when food was simply putting calories in our bodies. But Safran Foer points out that the huge social discourse surrounding the meat industry and the great lengths they take to create an idealistic picture of factory farms plays a much larger part in what we eat than we realize. According to Safran Foer, the animals in factory farms in the U.S. consume eight times more antibiotics than humans. Safran Foer asks “Is it natural to eat these kinds of animals that are raised in these ways? What’s natural about eating an animal that cannot survive without antibiotics? What’s natural about eating food that most nutritionists biologist and doctors I’ve spoken with say is probably the reason why girls are going through puberty at ages nine and ten?”

The system in which meat is produced is so distanced from consumers that we aren’t conscious of the externalized costs to the environment. Safran Foer says fast food “is presented as the cheapest food that’s ever been produced, when in fact it’s the most expensive food that’s ever been produced.” Indeed, the cost rung up at the supermarket does not include the destruction done to the environment. Safran Foer says the Global South has paid a huge price for this. Africa, South America, as well as parts of Eastern Europe all export food that they grow themselves but don’t eat to American and European companies. Their natural environments are destroyed in the process. Safran Foer asks “For what? Only for burgers. Not to solve the healthcare problem. Not to create peace in the Middle East. It’s for cheap burgers that make us fat.” Safran Foer also found that ninety-nine percent of the world’s soy crop is fed to animals concluding that, “No one eats tofu like meat eaters.”

Safran Foer claims that Eating Animals exists to begin a discussion about how people eat meat. He was not trying to create a book to persuade readers to become vegetarians, which is why he approached it journalistically, relying on the industry’s statistics and using two fact checkers. Even if you’re a die hard carnivore who scoffs at anything coming from the Kingdom Plantae or if you’re a vegan who refuses to swat a malaria carrying mosquito or somewhere in between, you should read Safran Foer’s book, if for no other reason than to learn about the affect the foods you choose to eat have on the rest of the world.

Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

An mp3 recording of the event can be accessed here.

Written by: Sara Custer, February 9th 2011

Neo-Feminist Cinema: Girly Films, Chick Flicks, and Consumer Culture

mandy — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Hilary Radner

Routledge

In the past decade, America cinema has shown a change towards producing more women-centered movies, depicting independent unmarried women who seek out their own empowerment and gradually changing society’s view of single women. The women of Sex and the City, for instance, celebrate their singledom, showing it not to be the pitiable state it was once thought to be. While these women possess many feminist qualities, they also have attributes that separate them from the traditional ideals of feminism, a perspective which media studies scholar Hilary Radner labels neo-feminist in her current work, Neo-Feminist Cinema.

Radner compellingly opens her book with a discussion of how neo-feminism differs from second wave feminism. Radner traces the start of neo-feminism to Helen Gurley Brown, who wrote the infamous Sex and the Single Girl. Groundbreaking for its time, the book idealized for women a lifestyle in which they maintained their own independent identities and lives from men, encouraging them to seek out both fulfilling careers and sexual experiences. Through her focus on being fashionable, attractive, and forever youthful in appearance, the former Cosmopolitan editor showed an extreme diversion in her views from that of feminists of the same era, including groundbreaker Gloria Steinem.

In Neo-Feminist Cinema, Radner connects Gurley Brown's views to the neo-feminist views expressed in contemporary works in which feminist-seeming ideologies are undercut by a focus on extreme consumerism (Manolo Blahniks, anyone?) and male sexual attention. Radner then dissects such other modern day films as Something’s Gotta Give, Legally Blonde, Maid in Manhattan, and Pretty Woman. Each films' focus on the girlishness of the characters, regardless of their age (even at forty- and fifty-years-old the cast of Sex and the City possess girlish qualities), as well as women's supposed fixation with fashion and extreme consumerism. Radner posits that neo-feminism replaces consumerism, instead of maternalism, as the primary feminine attribute. Radner’s analysis of each film is both compelling and convincing, though her method of devoting a chapter to each film results in redundancies, as many films possess the same characteristics.

Radner's work is most compelling in her definition of neo-feminism and her historical tracing back to show the roots of the term. Radner gives needed attention to how feminism has slowly filtered into popular culture, mutating the movement into a new form, one that furthers consumerism and maintains a woman’s focus on being sexually desirable to men.

Radner seems overly critical of popular culture in her work. While the neo-feminism expressed in popular works today may be a watered down, shallower version of the feminism second wavers expressed, it nonetheless is a positive step forward for the depiction of women in the media. The depictions of these images encourage women to pursue more self-actualized societal roles and encourages both genders to be accepting of women within such roles. Television shows and films have positively depicted empowered single women for over a decade, albeit ones who may not be quite what our feminist fore-mothers idealized as the future for modern women.

In the end, Radner’s work is both compelling and thought provoking, and she successfully pinpoints the media’s version of contemporary society’s ideal woman. Women who can lead successful and challenging lives absent of husbands and children are positive images to influence women, even if they encourage women to also spend undue amounts of time on their appearance.

Written by: Adrienne Urbanski, January 14th 2011

This One Is Mine

admin — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Maria Semple

Back Bay Books

It took me a few days and about 100 pages to feel compelled to read This One Is Mine. Finally, I reached the point when the story could have gone in several directions and I was persuaded to turn each page with anticipation and wondering what would happen next. The story follows the lives of a handful of characters living in Los Angeles and enmeshed in its wealth and superficial façade. Violet Parry is struggling to find something in her life that makes her feel alive again. She has been married to a successful music producer for years and increasingly she feels he doesn’t hear or care to know her anymore. This is amplified by the fact that she hasn’t worked since her young daughter was born and isn’t sure about her identity. Bringing more confusion is Teddy Reyes, a bass player with a completely different life path. He awakens questions and lust within her that she must navigate throughout the book. The other main character is Violet’s sister-in-law, Sally. Sally set her sights on an upcoming sports television personality. She believes if she gets him to marry her before his success explodes, it will secure her status and eventually allow her to live the life she wants. Of course, not thinking this plan completely through proves to be a bad move and the situation ends up more complicated than she could have imagined. There are also some points when the book turns to the point of view of other characters, such as Violet’s husband David or Sally’s ex-boyfriend Kurt. Though it was helpful to see their perspective, the constant switching of first person narratives was a little jarring. Violet’s husband David turned out to be one of the most complex characters. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to comfort him or hate him. He loved Violet, but didn’t always treat her well. He seemed to grow the most from his experiences and for that I ended up respecting his character. I believe the book was meant to be a bit of a satire of the poor little rich girl, but I don’t feel it questioned the overly consumer lifestyle of the main characters. Violet consumes without question until she meet Teddy, who happens to be a former junkie that can’t afford to get his car fixed. I appreciate that he isn’t depicted as a stereotypical drug user; the fact that he is an excellent golfer is one thing that helped add depth to his character. This is Maria Semple’s first novel and it has many strengths. The writing and descriptions are compelling and the dialogue doesn’t seem forced. It’s a good start to Semple’s novel writing career, but it isn’t a book I will be fiercely passing around my circle of friends.

Written by: Andrea Hance, August 25th 2010

Made in Pakistan

admin — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Nasir Khan

Talking Filmain

These days, political analysts on both sides of the aisle are calling Pakistan a failed state. While the “most dangerous place in the world” does face profound political and social turmoil, such sweeping commentary fails to capture the more personal intricacies of the lives of ordinary people living inside the country’s borders. Pakistan is more than the Taliban fighters implementing Sharia law in the Swat Valley, and it’s more than the frequent bombings of embassies and hotels from Islamabad to Karachi. As a way of countering the predominant fundamentalist image of Pakistanis constructed by the global media, filmmaker Nasir Khan recently released a poignant documentary that defies stereotypes and sheds light on some of the common challenges faced by citizens with lofty and patriotic ambitions.

Made in Pakistan presents the way a new generation of young leaders negotiates the conflicting pulls of consumerism, family, politics, gender, religion, and traditionalism. The film follows four educated, upper middle class, young Pakistanis in Lahore—a working mother, a lawyer, an event/PR manager, and a politician—from General Pervez Musharraf’s declaration of a state of emergency and military takeover in November 2007 to former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto’s assassination in January 2008. Waleed Khalid is a lawyer and professor at the Pakistan College of Law. He is a devout, but not uncritical, Muslim who has joined others employed in the judicial system to protest government corruption, in part fueled by American aid. In addition to raising her son, Rabia Aamir is the editor of The Fourth Article, a newly established magazine by and for politically savvy Pakistani youth. Aamir is a cultural activist who wants to find solutions to the political, social, and spiritual upheaval in the country. These two characters were the ones with whom I felt most sympathetic.

On the other hand, we have Tara Mahmood, a girl for whom the whole world is one big party waiting to happen, and she’s the one organizing it. Tara provides a lot of comic relief to an otherwise weighty film (at one point she says, "Alcohol is not banned here; it is just not legally sold."), and I was particularly moved when finally given the chance to see beyond her bubbly veneer. By contrast, duplicitous politician Mohsin Warraich provides an ominous, slimy representation of modern Pakistan: The film doesn’t have an outright villain, but if it did he’s be the one. Made in Pakistan is a compelling view of the immense contradictions of modern Pakistani society.

Review by Mandy Van Deven

Originally published in Bitch Magazine

Written by: Mandy Van Deven, June 15th 2010

Hello Kitty Must Die

admin — Mon, 31 May 2010 23:59:00 +0000

By Angela S. Choi

Tyrus Books

To many, Hello Kitty is a mouthless cat in blue overalls who’s never spotted without her signature red bow, but to twenty-eight-year-old Chinese-American Fiona Yu, the feline is an embodiment of everything she hates and willing to kill for. Author Angela S. Choi makes her publishing debut with the crime novel Hello Kitty Must Die, and while it attacks nearly every stereotype that Asian American women face daily, it leaves a bad aftertaste that not even the saccharine sweet pop culture icon can cure.

Yu is that character readers will love to hate, but it’s not because of her cringing pessimistic personality or how she seems to despise everything that comes her way. Rather, Choi’s book is an unconvincing collection of bland one-liners and exasperating contradictions that fail to depict a tale of family values gone bad.

“My virginity will always be mine,” declares Yu in the first few pages of Hello Kitty Must Die as she decides to eliminate her hymen with a Lidocaine-coated dildo. Yet after making this bold choice that would have empowered some not wanting to wait for Mr. Right, she realizes that there’s no cherry to pop. As a result, Yu decides to have her hymen replaced solely to tear apart her “family honor.” It’s difficult to continue moving forward in the story as this is a poor attempt in showing readers that Yu wants complete control of her body, including the right to take her own virginity.

While it’s acceptable for any female to feel that she shouldn’t have a man just to “make her a woman," it isn’t believable that Yu would go through all this trouble simply to get rid of human tissue. Why would a woman purposely tear her hymen and then spend thousands of dollars to have it replaced just to prove she has full control of her womanhood? Choi doesn’t attempt to convince readers the purpose of making a sudden and very expensive decision, which leaves us wondering if embarking on Yu’s confusing journey is worth it.

Yu complains of her family’s desires to wed her off, yet she, a Yale graduate and corporate lawyer, chooses to live with them. Is this Choi’s way of showing her audience that Yu is just an American girl who won’t leave the bird’s nest and isn’t as independent as she implies? These issues are troubling, yet they’re tossed aside, like the family-picked suitors Yu secretly gets rid of because they’re too fat, hideous, or unable to pay for dinner. There’s one leading man who’s more serial killer than prince charming that does get Vuitton-loving Yu’s heart racing, but even he can’t close this Pandora’s box of problems.

Childhood friend Sean Killroy may relish the hunt for unsuspecting victims, but it’s Yu, not the psychopath she secretly admires, that hits reader’s nerves. It’s difficult to believe that she feels no remorse for the poor “Hello Kitties” in her life, all because they merely represent a fate she refuses to accept. For example, when readers discover that her skin bleaching obsessed cousin Katie was found dead from a broken neck, all Yu could think of was how she saved herself from an unwanted marriage because the morgue isn’t “a good place. They don’t serve fifteen-dollar bellinis there.” She later wonders if “morticians gave their clients pedicures. After all, no one would ever know.”

Yu despises getting set up on blind dates just to walk down the aisle faster and comments how Katie “fainted all the time” because she was 90 pounds, but didn’t mind “the modern version of Chinese foot binding” with Prada, Dior, and Blahnik. We couldn’t help but wonder why she’s willing to stay single, yet goes on tangents over every designer label she owns just to flaunt her looks, which are meant to show her poor excuses for suitors why she’s the catch they’ll never have? This is one major flaw that’s never solved in Hello Kitty Must Die, only displaying Choi’s inability to produce a heart-stopping murder mystery for those seeking a bad ass Bridget Jones or Carrie Bradshaw. We’ll stick with cutesy cartoons any day.

Written by: Stephanie Nolasco, May 31st 2010

Ad Nauseam: A Survivor's Guide to American Consumer Culture

admin — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 16:00:00 +0000

Edited by Carrie McLaren, Jason Torchinsky

Faber & Faber

Ad Nauseam: A Survivor's Guide to American Consumer Culture is an anthology of articles (plus some new material) from ‘90s ad-busting zine Stay Free!. Since I write a zine that deconstructs feminine hygiene advertising, I couldn’t have represented more of their target demographic if I’d tried. So when I saw that it was up for review, I immediately requested it.

I was a little miffed when only a cursory mention of the industry that lent its name to Stay Free! was covered in Ad Nauseam, but I was not disappointed in any other regard. This book is ace. And it’s funny.

In a series of short, sharp essays written over the past fifteen years or so (and the older articles are, revealingly, still very relevant to current marketing trends), the editors and other contributors cleverly debunk, deconstruct and delight in the many ways that advertisers try to put several over on us. There is something for you here whether you are completely new to the topic or have studied it before. Subjects include (but are not limited to) television’s influence on the U.S. legal system, the ins and outs of subliminal advertising, brand loyalty taken to almost unbelievable extremes, and the techniques magazines use to sell ad space by marketing, well, us.

Spoof multiple-choice quizzes at the end of each chapter reveal creepy tidbits you can use to impress your friends. (This worked well for me at the pub last week.) There’s also a brief history of the advertising industry that will catch up anyone new to it, and refreshingly refresh those who've already got the basics down.

The final section is my favorite part—a chronicle of the merry ad-busting japes undertaken by the editors and others, followed by an encouraging word—and a few resources—for any potential japesters out there. Carrie McLaren and Jason Torchinsky acknowledge that although one small prank can’t combat the financial might of major corporations, it can still raise awareness and educate on a small scale, forging personal connections. McLaren continues this with a blog and Brooklyn-based alternative lecture series.

Does this book pass the feminist test? Yep. Historically, most of the advertisers were men, and most of the shoppers they targeted were women. Again and again, Ad Nauseam chronicles in detail and handily exemplifies that old traditions die hard. It’s an excellent tool kit for any feminist, male or female. At $18 in paperback, it's also an expensive toolkit, but its 335 pages are stuffed full of wittily presented stats and examples—all backed up with extensive references and notes, so it is actually very good value for money.

Ad Nauseam would make an accessible companion to a high school or undergraduate module on advertising or media studies, and I’d even go ahead and recommend some of the shorter segments that illustrate each chapter (easy to find on gray background pages throughout the book) for middle school students. Read it all in one sitting like I tried to at first, and your world may be so deconstructed that you can’t put it back together again. As a zine anthology, it’s made for dipping into, and I plan to keep mine on my bathroom bookshelf. (It’s the modern coffee table. You know it is.)

Props to Faber and Faber for allowing Torchinsky to design the cover, which sports a lovingly rendered airsickness bag emblazoned with the book's title on a fetching field of blue. Can a barf bag be beautiful? Scarily, yes. It’s great to know that Torchinsky and his co-editor understand the industry well enough to manipulate it to their advantage, and that they’ve chosen to use their powers for good.

Written by: Chella Quint, October 31st 2009

Youth Knows No Pain

admin — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 04:07:00 +0000

Directed by Mitch McCabe

HBO Films

Four viewings of Mitch McCabe’s documentary, Youth Knows No Pain, have me scratching my head. I am puzzled over exactly what McCabe was attempting to say with this film. Is Youth Knows No Pain a love letter to McCabe’s deceased plastic surgeon father or an obsession with mortality? Is this is a commentary on the consumerism and increasing narcissism of Western society? How about a meditation on how youth obsessed Americans are? An exploration of how ageism and sexism conflate to render women of a certain age invisible? Youth Knows No Pain is all of these things and none of these things. The film is rather unfocused, never deeply delving into any of the issues raised.

The film all too often degenerates into navel-gazing. McCabe is obsessed with her own image, and there are no fewer than forty shots of McCabe gazing into mirrors or taking photographs of herself. McCabe admits she spends exorbitant sums on wrinkle creams, despite $70,000 of debt. She also says she would happily let her health insurance lapse so that she can afford salon visits every six weeks.

Youth Knows No Pain’s other subjects are equally shallow. Shelley soothes the pain of an impoverished upbringing with unabashed materialism; dropping $35,000 on plastic surgery in one year, she states that she misses being the target of street harassment. Lyndsay feels its her asymmetrical mouth that holds her back from a career in broadcasting. Dr. Zein Obagi injected his fifteen year old daughter with Botox. Erica, another daughter of a plastic surgeon, aspires to appear in Playboy. Erica’s father, Frank, regularly criticized his daughter’s appearance during her teen years, going so far as to ask her if her breasts were symmetrical. And I wanted to slap the taste out of Gary’s mouth when he suggests Hillary Clinton is long overdue for plastic surgery because, according to him, no one wants to see a woman looking “old and haggy.”

All of the subjects state that plastic surgery makes people feel good and that alone is a sufficient justification for it. The subjects equate aging with being ugly and alone, an assumption McCabe seems to share as she never challenges it. Many of the subjects insensitively insult McCabe’s appearance, but McCabe doesn’t have the salt to call any of them on it. She seems not the least bit interested in the “grow old gracefully” position, either. Two interviewees expressed outright disdain for cosmetic procedures, decrying society’s fear of the aged, but neither woman is identified by name and neither gets more than two minutes of screen time.

The film’s title is belied by an interview early in the film. One subject bursts into tears upon seeing a picture of himself at age twenty-four, stating that he was thinking of all the things he put himself through at that age. He also remains unidentified and is never seen again. Freak Out Over Aging would have been a much better title for this movie, which premieres tonight at 9 p.m. EST/PST on HBO.

Written by: Ebony Edwards-Ellis, August 31st 2009

Where Underpants Come From: From Checkout to Cotton Field: Travels Through the New China and Into the New Global Economy

admin — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 08:48:00 +0000

By Joe Bennett

Overlook Press

It’s absolutely astonishing to realize how much junk people in North America consume only to throw away. Most of it is from China. When I started to read Where Underpants Come From, I picked up various objects in my office—from the mechanical pencil I write with to my iPod—and I discovered that yes, everything had been made in China. Author Joe Bennett, who is based in New Zealand, does a fantastic job of describing his experience of traveling to that far off land to discover the process of how his cheap underpants were manufactured. The idea is absurd, but he runs with it anyway.

China is the cheapest bidder on manufacturing most of the convenient items we consume at an exhausting rate. It comes as no surprise that the giant nation is, as a result, driving its peasant labor force for meager wages and polluting the air, land, and water at an even faster rate. Statistics aren’t necessary; just take a look at the dirty grey-brown clouds of smog that hover over Chinese cities.

Bennett does more than observe the grainy air; he physically visits various places in China to see for himself what the industrial giant has created in order to keep the Western materialist appetite satisfied. It isn’t pretty, but his encounters are often humorous. As other journalists (such as Anderson Cooper, in the Planet in Peril series) have pointed out, China’s bid to create the cheapest industrial production of everything from underpants to machinery is creating environmental destruction on an astronomical level.

Chinese citizens are also just as disposable. When I was a little girl (in Canada) during Mao’s time, I became interested in not only American Vietnam War veterans, but in the Vietnamese and Chinese soldiers who—as the National Geographic displayed them—were left rotting in dilapidated vet hospitals. Bennett’s descriptions of countless health and safety hazards and substandard machinery show that while Mao may have died in 1976, the view that Chinese workers are easily replaceable has not.

Bennett’s account gets past the stats and much-repeated talk of China as an economic giant. He offers readers glimpses into people’s lives. He goes where the Chinese won’t—places like Urumqi south, where Muslim populations exist—and tries to communicate with the locals. His angle lends compassion and a sincere urge to understand all sides. He admits to his own prejudices against China and its peoples before he actually arrives and notes that people are people everywhere.

As I sit here and type my review on my ‘Made In China’ laptop, the darkness is lit by my ‘Made In China’ lamp, and I drink Chrysanthemum tea (grown and harvested in China) from my ‘Made in China’ glass, I hope that people will take the time to read Bennett’s work. Despite the pollution and slack labor laws and high rate of labor deaths, Bennett finds the people he encounters to be generally happy. Yes, they are driven, but they take time to live for the sake of living and family takes care of family. We Westerners monetarily benefit from the fruits of their hard work, but materialism has only left us miserably wealthy, fat, and insecure.

Written by: Nicolette Westfall, July 8th 2009

Christotainment: Selling Jesus through Popular Culture

admin — Sat, 23 May 2009 18:11:00 +0000

Edited by Shirley Steinberg, Joe Kincheloe

Westview Press

For years now, “Bible-thumping ideology” has clashed with a mainstream popular culture that seems to stand for everything fundamentalist Christians oppose. That is, however, until fundamentalist Christians discovered how they could harness the power of popular culture to sell their own messages of purity, penance, and prayer.

This is where Shirley Steinberg and Joe Kincheloe’s anthology Christotainment: Selling Jesus through Popular Culture begins. Christotainment looks at how conservative Christians have sold movies, NASCAR, music, toys, and even talking vegetables—and, in the process, peddled their own ideologies and values to a blossoming market of believers. Chapters dissect the social, cultural and political identities afforded to members of the “Christotainment” community, as well as the implications of turning faith into a commodity that one can purchase on DVD or wear as a shirt.

“Christotainment” is also approached as a political movement. Joshua Newman and Michael Giardina’s chapter “Onward Christian Drivers” examines how the Republican Party harnessed the loyal fan base of the “NASCAR nation” to win votes that propelled Republicans to massive victories in 2000 and 2004. Later, the politicization of faith is discussed within the context of censorship and the war against rock music. Through these, the authors suggest that the “ever ready army of right-wing Christian fanatics and demagogic populists” nurtured by “Christotainment” promote intolerance and threaten democratic ideals.

Like all good anthologies, Christotainment tackles a core issue from several different perspectives and engages a variety of audiences in the process. Ultimately, the critical lens they use to explore “Christotainment” may turn off those who are already a part of the “Christotainment” culture. However, their scholarly examination of the ramifications associated with the commercialization of faith remains sensibly balanced with enough cultural vignettes to keep it accessible and interesting to all readers.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, May 23rd 2009

Death by Leisure: A Cautionary Tale

admin — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 22:51:00 +0000

By Chris Ayres

Grove Press

Maybe the current economic meltdown the world-over has got me down, but I found Chris Ayres’ Death by Leisure: A Cautionary Tale a hard pill to swallow. Could it be that the time for cautionary tales has long passed? Every other fiction new release, it seems, touches upon environmental disaster, or endless war, or the disaster wrought by people living en masse beyond their means; this book touches upon all three. While the topics may be more relevant than ever now, Ayres would have done well to take a fresher approach if he wished to stand out from the ever-growing crowd of heralds trumpeting in the End Times.

Ayres paints a picture of Los Angeles through the eyes of an English transplant who is both repelled and possessed by the culture of consumption. The city is smothered in smog and mind-numbingly hot temperatures, while its inhabitants live out their lives blissfully unaware, drifting from air-conditioned apartments to air-conditioned cars. His L.A. is grit, sweat, anxiety, neuroses, and desperation, glossed over with a barely-there sheen of glamour and luxury.

Particularly in his romantic pursuits, Ayres exhibits a calculated level of self-deprecation and apathy. Sent to L.A. as a journalist and correspondent for a British newspaper, Ayres daily life is structured by assignments and demands from The Beast on the other end of the telephone line. It becomes clear that whatever journalistic zeal he arrived with, Ayres has lost. Rather, he uses his credentials to score access to exclusive parties, to which he invites women he hopes to woo. Ayres is no fool; he can see the writing on the wall, and the writing spells certain destruction, environmentally and financially. It’s his refusal to act outside of his own needs, in spite of this knowledge, that remains his least endearing quality throughout the book.

The real estate bubble of the United States is stretched to its limits, poised to burst, nowhere more obviously than in Los Angeles. Yet Ayres wheels and deals with reckless abandon to finagle a “piggy back” mortgage while the getting’s still good that will land him in a multi-million dollar home he has no prayer of affording. Reader, bear in mind, the protagonist has been hawking furniture on CraigsList to pay the rent on his apartment. Toxic assets, sub-prime mortgages, financial acrobatics—oh, what a twisted web, and all that. His high jinks couldn’t be more timely, or infuriating.

Yet, under the guise of a jaded Los Angeles satire, there are grains of wisdom to be found in Death by Leisure: A Cautionary Tale. When there is nothing left to be done, get the whole mess down on paper and don’t take yourself too seriously. Find someone to make a home with and try to be happy. Wean yourself off the things you don’t need. Have a baby, even if you’re not sure this is a world you want to bring a child into. That mess you got down on paper, however sarcastic or seemingly apathetic, might start to mean something. It may not be too late for that cautionary tale.

Written by: Kelly Moritz, April 29th 2009

The Aftermath of Feminism: Gender, Culture and Social Change

admin — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 18:03:00 +0000

By Angela McRobbie

Sage Publications

UK-based scholar and author Angela McRobbie has written extensively on women in contemporary popular culture. All of her writings present interesting and thought-provoking analyses of the roles assigned to women in various cultural spaces ranging from women's magazines to visual media. While her previous writings appear somewhat more optimistic about the ability to use subversive strategies as a form of resistance to the power dynamics and constraints inherent in popular images of women in the world of consumer culture, her newest book represents a departure from her earlier lines of argument. In [The Aftermath of Feminism](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0761970622?ie=UTF8&tag=feminrevie-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0761970622), McRobbie examines our current social and cultural landscape, one that is often referred to as "post-feminist," and presents a compelling analysis of how images of women in contemporary pop culture contribute to an "undoing" of feminism. Throughout the book, McRobbie positions post-feminism as not just anti-feminism (in the sense of anti-feminism being a straightforward backlash against feminist positions and ideas), but as a form of backlash that "takes feminism into account." This taking into account casts feminism itself as a thing of the past, as something that is no longer needed in a time when women are encouraged to pursue an education, a career, and be sexually independent. At the same time, it plays off of stereotypes that have cast feminism as associated with and often equivalent to hatred of men. McRobbie convincingly exposes this "taking into account" in popular television shows and movies, like Sex and the City and Bridget Jones's Diary, and analyzes how the obsession with femininity and middle-class whiteness in these and other programs undermines feminism as a whole.

While the analyses revolving around popular culture are enlightening and rich in complexity, the most powerful passages of the book are those in which McRobbie ventures beyond pop culture and analyzes the post-feminist "undoing" of feminism in consumer culture, the workplace, representations of "female" disorders or (symbolic) violence. It is particularly this venturing beyond analyses of television shows that turns [The Aftermath of Feminism](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0761970622?ie=UTF8&tag=feminrevie-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0761970622) from an interesting read into one of the most powerful analyses of why feminism is not a thing of the past and maybe more needed today than ever before.

Written by: Annette Przygoda, January 21st 2009

Sex and the City: The Movie

admin — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 12:05:00 +0000

Directed by Michael Patrick King

Far as I can tell, there’s never been a consensus on Sex and the City’s feminist appeal. It shows intimate female relationships, but it’s heteronormative, white, and the characters often talk past each other. The women live (mostly) sexually liberated lives, but they’re nevertheless forever in search of the perfect man to fulfill their emotional needs. The ladies are also all highly successful in their own careers, but their love of expensive shoes and sex toys supports a patriarchal, capitalist model.

I was not an original follower of the show—never had HBO, for one. But over the past two years, thanks to several series-devoted female friends, I suspect I’ve seen every episode at least once or twice. A fan of the individual characters more than their sum total, my expectations for the film felt reasoned. Not skeptical or enthusiastic, I walked in knowing product placement was rampant, it was a sometimes-tedious 2.5 hours in length, and that I was in for a film a bit below its cable-television standards.

After rewriting this review several times, I’ve concluded that the easiest way to explain this film is to expound on its shortcomings, of which there are simply too many. The film opens to a truly unbelievable wedding planning frenzy for Carrie, the forever marriage-phobic writer, and we soon find her on the outs with her commitment-averse fiancé, the phallically named Mr. Big. Gee, when will he show up and make it right again over the next two hours? I was bored and insulted and mostly annoyed. How many times must we watch the same woman make such painfully bad decisions?

(SPOILER ALERT: keep reading this review only if you want key pieces of the plot revealed to you.)

The other characters fared marginally better along the functionality spectrum. Miranda spends the movie separating from a cheating Steve, only to reconcile later. Her choice is perhaps the most complicated, and it also seems to be the one least deserving of feminist scorn, for who hasn’t been there? Samantha finds herself bored and undersexed after five years with Smith Jerrod, and after a few blowups, she leaves for good. For his part, Smith was always a compassionate, sensitive character in the television series, and the movie robs him of this. Or, maybe we forget that the nice guys end up being complacent, selfish assholes too? The message, in whatever way you perceive it, is troubling. We can at least be satisfied that Samantha goes back to single life because her relationship with her authentic self is ultimately the most important to her, superceding her role as business manager and part time girlfriend of a movie star. Charlotte, in her comfortable domestic mothering role, finds herself pregnant and gives birth off-screen. While true to her previous TV-era character, the updated Charlotte feels a little stifled and serves all too often as everyone else’s doormat.

The problems with all of the Sex and the City women stem from the same problems they have always had, only in movie form, they seem larger than life. Why does Charlotte have imperialist tendencies while vacationing in Mexico, only eating pudding from the States because, “It’s Mexico!”? Why is her primary comedic moment a lowly scatological joke? Why is Samantha chastised for her “gut” when the slim fifty-year-old gains fifteen pounds? Why is the only character of color Carrie’s personal assistant? Played well by Jennifer Hudson, her lines nevertheless make her into a one-dimensional, label-loving, yes-woman. This is the diversity of New York City circa 2008? You don’t have to have been in Manhattan recently (or ever) to know this is a movie-made myth.

Maybe my current Sex and the City discomfort would have manifested itself sooner if I’d ever watched four episodes on the TV show in a row. Maybe I did have higher hopes than I thought. I’ve heard plenty of critiques—the children had no character development, the actresses are too self-conscious in revisiting their famed roles—but how much more can be crammed in? The film didn’t drag, but it pushes its genre limits at two and a half hours. In the end, the Sex and the City movie is nothing more than an overinflated romantic comedy with disempowering messages about the depressing state of modern love. Maybe it’s someone’s reality, but it couldn’t be much further from mine or one I would ever desire.

I would recommend seeing the movie if you’re far more devout than I ever was, or, alternately, if you’d like to cement your distaste for the series once and for all. Since seeing the film well over a week ago, I can’t stand to look at or hear any of the characters, let alone watch the show. To immediately swear off a regularly consumed guilty pleasure—a group of intelligent female characters—based on one two-hour sitting has to say something, right? Your money is better spent on a book.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, June 27th 2008

Nowtopia: How Pirate Programmers, Outlaw Bicyclists, and Vacant-lot Gardeners are Inventing the Future Today

admin — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 15:05:00 +0000

By Chris Carlsson

AK Press

Veteran writer and activist Chris Carlsson’s new book is nothing short of an urban working-class blueprint for change. Drawing on Marxist theory and powerfully deconstructing modern assumptions about class and work, Nowtopia presents fringe utopian ideals as well-reasoned, proactive solutions for how to authentically survive in our struggling society. Profiling the sustainable work of diverse groups—including open-source programmers, biodiesel enthusiasts, and “burners”—Carlsson guides us through a deeper understanding of the current range of subversive political action one can take in everyday life. While dense at times, Nowtopia summarizes these ideas and exposes a variety of subcultures that, despite our capitalist society, are thriving gift economies, working beyond the traditional models of today.

Carlsson’s primary concern is that, as individuals, we have very little (if any) influence over what we, as a society, do together. Capitalism seems an inherent part of our lives, and consumerism has taken over everything—from our meaningful relationships to common, public space. Our reliance on science has deskilled entire generations, and to put our culture back on course, it is going to require “radical patience” and a new respect for modern permaculture (i.e., interconnected and systemic analysis of society and its problems).

Some of the most radical politics being practiced today take place in microcosms of larger social movements, establishing truly sustainable practice in a time when that buzzword means less and less. Vacant-lot gardeners reclaim public space in an effort to remove themselves from a capitalist food supply, and bicycle activists empower masses of riders to take back public streets. Biodiesel proponents turn functional automobiles into cars running outside the system and reclaim an existing technology for everyday people. And while Burning Man is an admitted outlier in terms of sustainability, the gathering does inspire many to, at least temporarily, vacate their cubicles and let themselves go. A hopeful read, Nowtopia looks to people putting radical thought into practice as examples of how we could all achieve better living conditions within the confines of contemporary society.

Seeing Carlsson at a book reading and discussion in Boston last month, the one criticism I’d had of the book was raised by another audience member. Despite the diversity of the subjects themselves, the ideas in this book are currently being pursued and promoted by an overwhelmingly white crowd. What do we do about that? In what was one of the more striking responses I’ve heard on this subject, Carlsson explained that just because we should de-center white experience does not mean it shouldn’t be in the frame. People making revolutionary change should be disregarded because of their privileged past? That doesn’t move anyone forward. So long as we continue to celebrate diverse paths to revolution, and do not harm others in our own pursuits, are we all not in this together?

Carlsson speaks at length, both in the book and in person, about class structure and the politics of work, and the real value of his contribution is the idea of workers' revolution. To understand your life as more than a daily mundane for-pay existence is a vital concept sometimes lost on us all. The numerous conversations that I’ve recently had on the subject—often with people in my own Millennial generation, who forget their true passions because they’re so lost between earning their paychecks and maintaining a life online—speak to the ways our culture has negated our experiences as individuals who do passionate work that involves no currency. We all have to pay rent, but to get beyond treating others merely as their one-dimensional, working day identity is the most innovative concept in Carlsson’s analysis, and this critique of our current model is incredibly timely and necessary. The larger picture contained in these models of rogue gardening and hacking are tools for unlocking a better collective future for our culture.

Photo credit: Andreas Haugstrup Pedersen

Written by: Brittany Shoot, June 4th 2008

Live Earth (7/7/2007)

admin — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 12:57:00 +0000

Giants Stadium

New York, New York

Live Earth, Al Gore’s spectacular series of concerts for the environment Earth, has been a magnet for mainstream media cynics, who point to amplifiers, lights and garbage as evidence that the whole thing was one big festival of hypocrisy. But for a member of the throng at Giants Stadium, at least, the atmosphere felt as political and optimistic as any show in memory. The audience was sporting a record number of anti-Bush T-shirts, and there were twice as many tree-hugger types wandering around in green as there were Jersey frat boys swigging Bud and holding their breath for Bon Jovi.

Between sets, celebrities and environmentalists like Jane Goodall, RFK Jr, Leonardo DiCaprio and Cameron Diaz spoke about the environment—and for once, most seemed less polished than earnest as they pled with the audience to make a difference. And the stage was stormed again and again by passionate musicians, egos and entourages aside, who proved that if music can’t clean up the environment, it’s one of the most powerful tools out there to change minds. It almost felt like the 60s.

Live Earth’s message brought out the best in a dizzying array of bands and artists, whose performances ranged from generically positive to genuinely transcendental. The show’s spiritual kickoff came from the biggest rock star of all, Gore himself, who introduced a freewheeling duet between Alicia Keys and Keith Urban of the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter,” a song which hasn’t lost its prophetic quality despite the ensuing decades. Keys later came back and covered Marvin Gaye’s “Mercy Me (The Ecology),” another 60s anthem that’s still too pertinent.

Recent Oscar Winner Melissa Etheridge had the most unabashedly political set of the show. Although a song about Cindy Sheehan and the war might be an unconventional choice, she had the fed-up crowd nodding with religious fervor. Kelly Clarkson’s loveable, angry-girl shtick paled in comparison to Etheridge’s righteous indignation. While Clarkson moaned about rejection by her lovers, Etheridge preached, telling her audience to resist the pull of consumerism and fight the powers that be.

Not to be outdone by the rocker-chicks, Akon, Ludacris and Kanye West demonstrated the overlooked fact that the rhythms of hip-hop can be as appropriate for saving the world as they are for grooving at a club. The stadium’s front section went wild for Akon, who rode through its midst on a security guard’s shoulder, touching hands and jamming to a song about Africa—which, he told the audience, is everyone’s homeland. West elicited squeals when he sprinted across the stage during a manic set that encompassed nearly all of his past singles and some hot upcoming tracks.

Heroes of the college scene Dave Matthews Band sent their fans into raptures with a short but mesmerizing group of appropriate songs - like “One Sweet World” and “Don’t Drink the Water” - while chilled-out guitar maestro John Mayer soothed the audience with his somewhat lackadaisical protest song, “Waiting on the World to Change.”

Most of the bands performed under the bright sun, giving the concert a laid-back summer-festival vibe. But once the light faded and Gore reappeared to introduce hometown heroes Bon Jovi, the stadium suddenly felt like a glamorous New York event with a surprising degree of intimacy.

The triple-punch of classic closing trio the Smashing Pumpkins, Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters and the Police elicited the kind of awe bestowed only on truly classic rockers. Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan delivered beautifully sour vocals that summoned up the rage of early-90s alternative music. Lighters and cellphones floated in the dark as audience members crooned along with a mellow Waters to “Another Brick in the Wall” and “Dark Side of the Moon.” West and Meyer jammed along with the Police during the final number, appropriately “SOS.” “We can save the world!” West shouted along with Sting’s vocals.

And it felt like we could save the world, because the grandiose universe of pop music, nothing is impossible. The fusion of anger and resilience that rock embodies prevailed on Satuday. Throwaway lyrics seemed profound, while the specter of war and disaster diminished. Whether the day’s inspiration will translate to action remains to be seen. But between the hope of the artists and the cynicism of the media, I’m going with the former.

Written by: Sarah Seltzer, July 13th 2007

Pink Ribbons, Inc.: Breast Cancer and the Politics of Philanthropy

admin — Wed, 09 May 2007 20:04:00 +0000

By Samantha King

University Of Minnesota Press

Who hasn’t done it? Who hasn’t bought that extra cup of yogurt or that pink scarf that matches nothing in the closet just to show support for the breast cancer cause? Most women have seen what breast cancer can do in the lives of real women, whether we have endured it first-hand or watched a loved one struggle to survive. I have always felt that sweet inner glow after making a purchase if I knew that a small percentage of the proceeds would go to support breast cancer research. As a consumer, I felt that I was doing my part. I never questioned why my philanthropy needed to be tied directly to my consumerism. I never questioned it, that is, until I read Pink Ribbons, Inc.

What do big corporations and politicians have in common? According to Samantha King, an Associate Professor of Women’s Studies and Physical and Health Education, both groups have profited from our society’s fascination with breast cancer. King offers a searing discussion of the push toward “strategic philanthropy” in the last two decades of the 20th Century. With the current stress on cause-related marketing, corporations exploit the public’s civic goodwill as they fight “to gain ownership over the issue.”

According to King, politicians have not failed to cash in on the moral authority of the breast cancer cause. Many “women’s issues” are viewed as political landmines for legislators. Breast cancer, however, has proven to be a safe issue, allowing legislators to present themselves as “pro-woman” without the danger of being associated with the “F” word—Feminism.

King also focuses on the effect of the recent “tyranny of cheerfulness” surrounding the issue of breast cancer. Because society desires to see the results of its philanthropy, women are perhaps not allowed to acknowledge the flood of emotions that accompanies the diagnosis and the struggle against the disease. Our focus has shifted to the “survivor.” Anything less is unacceptable. In this struggle to find the cure, we have lost sight of the importance of prevention. Reading King’s analysis of the issue made me for the first time question who really benefits when I “think pink” at the cash register. Who really wins in what the_ New York Times_ termed “the battle for the breast?”

Written by: Misty McCormick Chisum, May 9th 2007