The Stanifesto

Totalitarian semiotics as pre-emptive censorship

To be completely honest, there are some concepts in here that could likely go back into the oven for some more baking... but I think I may be on to something.

I've mentioned before that I worry that truly revolutionary communication is fast becoming impossible. I'm not one of those "there are no creative works left for our generation!" kinds of artists; instead I'd trace the problem to a new totalitarian semiosis. Let's define those words quickly.

to·tal·i·tar·i·an, adj.
of or relating to a system of government that is centralized and dictatorial and requires complete subservience to the state
sem·i·o·tics, n.
the study of signs and symbols, how meaning is constructed and understood

Let's dive a bit deeper, shall we? By totalitarian, I am not referring to any government that controls its people by force, as is commonly understood by the word. We don't live in that kind of culture. Police are not beating down my door, I'm allowed to vote and even have a blog to express my views, for the most part people don't disappear to some secret prison.

Still, ideas concerning what a life might be like where I didn't pay rent or concerning a life-long romantic partnership that was not a state-sanctioned marriage are difficult to express if only because we lack both the literal vocabulary but also the emotional vocabulary to allow such feelings to transfer between one another. For this reason, I make a distinction between semiotics and semantics, as I'm primarily interested in the emotional resonance of a phrase and not its discrete meaning. Looking up "Hippie" will probably not accurately convey what is meant by calling someone one. Maybe I'm still rehashing The Spectacle.

Last week I chatted with Patrick Reinsborough of smartMeme concerning my thoughts on activating the creative class (more on that some other time). He brought up his surprise and fascination with Capitalism's ability to account for the Commons, which he had previously thought an incorruptibly non-Capitalist idea. Indeed, even anti-Capitalist ideas have a place in Capitalism. In fact, as Capitalism grows more oppressive and undesirable, demand for anti-Capitalist or revolutionary ideas grows, creating a price point for dissent. All is accounted for. Patrick describes such a world and offers some solutions in his seminal "Decolonizing the Revolutionary Imagination".

Yesterday, I walked into a comics store and walked out with "Channel Zero". The introduction from Warren Ellis claims:

We're in cultural lockstep, taking holidays in other people's misery, asking for our stinking badges, dead heads nodding over phosphordot fixes.
The actual comic follows Jennie 2.5, a media activist who gradually becomes a media terrorist, who gradually becomes just a face on a t-shirt like Che Guevara (sidenote: a friend tried to get "ClicheGuevara" as an AIM name, but it was taken). Though the book was written in 1997 and imagines a world of overt censorship—this was in the middle of Giuliani's rampage against art—it gets everything else right. It's not apathy that undercuts the modern revolution, it's that revolution reaffirms the status quo. Subversion has been subverted.

Nor is the truth being suppressed. Bush gets caught violating the Constitution left and right. How many scandals can he weather? Honestly, he can probably keep going until the food runs out. The American that needs to revolt in order for revolution to occur, the mass consumers of mass media that provides the social mass that lowers the momentum of social change to zero, doesn't have it that bad. But when they do, will they realize it?

Perhaps brigades of Black Bloc standing against riot cops are doing more than inviting violence. Perhaps they're taking and holding the territory necessary in case the rest of us need to join them. Considering that Giuliani is the current Republican front-runner, we may both get another chance re-enact Channel Zero.