Naturally, I've started with staples, big-picture texts, ones that I often turn to for insight into daily experiences, ones that I've read repeatedly and can summarize and cite more or less from memory most of the time. There is one quote that I looked up though. Just for the record, don't expect the rest of the annotations to be quite as long as these. I hope you don't expect that anyway.
Baudrillard , Jean. Passwords. London: Verso, 2003.
Print.
The best place to begin
understanding Baudrillard’s sociological analyses of symbolic regimes is with
his glossary of terms. Passwords is
exactly that, published into a book. Each chapter defines his specific use of a
single word or term, and indoctrinates readers into his language paradigm.
Consequently, for each term defined in Passwords,
there is a corresponding book. I doubt that the fact that many of the
actual books were written decades before Passwords
renders it any less relevant as a starting point. Marxism,
Post-structuralism, Freudian psycholanaysis, Derridian and Lacanian theories of
linguistics are some of Baudrillard’s more prominent themes, but his heavy
overlay of tech language, his fondness for Calculus metaphors, and references
to Gödelian feedback loops, lends his famously poetic syntax a very
contemporary voice. Since I will be analyzing the psychological and
sociological implications of industries that deal directly within prominent
symbolic systems, along with my own participation in them, I plan to rely
heavily on Baudrillard throughout the piece.
Baudrillard, Jean. Seduction.
New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1979. Print
Based on Baudrillard’s
recurring analysis, which appears in more than one of his other works, the
worlds of advertising, marketing, and any related mass communications media
that have a persuasive objective, depend specifically on a game of seduction.
While a more vulgar concept might place seduction somewhere between equivocation,
and manipulation by means of flattery, Baudrillard’s definition apprehends a
much deeper affect. Baudrillard’s seduction is a game involving what he calls
the universal reversibility of signs, and symbols, which he argues advertising
takes even further, not so much to a logical conclusion (because such a term
radically contradicts the psychological impact of advertising), but to what he
termed “The lowest form of energy of the sign. Degree zero of meaning. The triumph
of entropy over all possible tropes.”
The world in which I found myself accidentally
immersed was one in which advertising had shrugged off its role as a specific
power. It no longer mediated any exchange between inter-social agencies. Indeed
it was a world in which the entire social enterprise had collapsed into the
simplified, yet agitated language of advertising, where marketing and advertising
were proffered as goods and services, in and of themselves, while ordinary
objects were sold as either marketing solutions or vectors for derivative
social values. And there I was, seduced by it all, frantically trying to
assimilate myself into it.
Baudrillard, Jean. The
System of Objects. London: Verso, 1996. Print
The System of Objects is professor Baudrillard’s in-depth, analytical
critique of the contemporary state of commodity fetishism. In Passwords
he explains his fascination with objects as originating from their apparent
ability to break free of functional purposes and become signifiers capable of establishing
syntax with each other and ultimately execute a form of revenge on the subject.
The object’s revenge is a heady concept that involves objects coding the
behavior of their human subjects with reductive signification, and symbolic
values that they bear—as a form of highly simplified language. Once freed from
their use value, Baudrillard explains, objects as derivatives or bearers of
derivative value—sign value, historical value, ideological connotations, sexual
identity themes, and so on, integrate into a discourse of their own, in which
human subjects play by rules that arise more or less organically from the conditions. As he explains, these derivatives, when
combined according the simplified language of advertising reduce the human
experience to a sort of gaming. Integral-Reality he calls it. The final
conclusion to this game isn't meaning, or enrichment, or fulfillment. It's status, nothing more.
While
Baudrillard concedes that objects probably always signified subjects, at least
in some way, he argues that prior to the pervasive circulation of advertising
through media, objects signified in ways parallel to real human experience. Now
however, He believed humanity to have fallen to a state in which advertising is our one and only
moral code in this game of status. Even to escape it, he explains, “in a private
sense, cannot prevent us from participating every day in its collective
development. Not believing in it still means believing sufficiently in other people’s
belief in it to develop a skeptical stance. Even actions intended as resistance
to it must be defined in terms of a society that conforms to it (213).”
Now
imagine being an outsider in the environment he describes, in which politics,
economics, livelihood, religion, and any subordinate cultural discourses are
moderated, on the personal level, by the language of advertising. "What are you doing after the orgy?" Baudrillards famous last words still ring true. But here’s the
real kick in the gut. That last quote, and this last paragraph up to here, both
reveal the same identity themes I’ve asserted in my earlier posts—artist type,
DIY ethics, Billy the Kid, Odysseus lost at sea, penchant for subversive
behavior and the like. Cinderella scrubbing the floors of the palace, the underdog, the rebel, these all show up as motifs in advertising at least as much as any others, and I have
clearly bought into them. And I’m afraid I would be lying to myself if I said
my central identity themes predate my exposure to advertising culture. So maybe
when I get to my Jaques Lacan citations I’ll find some redemption for myself,
some way to blame it on my mom perhaps. Until then, I’m stuck in this weird
paradox. And here is my worst fear—what if characters and themes designed to
appear resistant are exactly what give the system of objects, as such, its equilibrium. What if it is resistance and revolution that prevent corrupt social systems from reaching a tipping point. If that's true then I was never as much an outsider as I am a rube. And that makes me feel like Neo, whose role is to fight valiantly, miraculously even, and lose anyway. And I've just been punched in the junk by Mr. Smith.
Occupy Wall Street anyone?