On a whim, I applied to CSUN's MA program. I had much encouragement from my professors and classmates. One--because I truly think that these people believed that I could succeed in grad school. Two--I still felt I had much to learn about my writing: the art, the literary value, and the theoretical approaches of it. I know many people think it's crazy, to go the same undergrad for grad, but I have only been at CSUN for two years and only spent about half the time truly concentrating on creative writing.
For me, this is simply a continuation. I will continue to grow as a writer in this time. Grad school will be a challenge, but I feel that it would be more on my level. I enjoy a challenge myself. I'm ambitious. In undergrad, I always liked to go the extra mile just so I could not only test my boundaries, but also so that I could set myself apart and show that I have merit. Something beyond the workshop story, but an actual literary and artistic piece that may be perhaps be a cut above, or a potential contender for greatness.
With that said, I am accepted as a conditionally classified student. I am enrolled in one class, but it's a 400-level undergrad creative writing class. O.o I haven't been able to register in any grad classes because (and here's why I mentioned I applied on a whim) I applied so late, so last minute that by the time I was able to register, all the classes were full. Now it is time to do the sit-in, beg, plead, and hope for an open spot somewhere.
In other news, I have had a short story accepted for publication. Tayo Literary Magazine is up-and-coming and is geared towards Filipino-American youth empowerment. I think it's great that this magazine coming up. It's great to read literature, see photos and artwork by Fil-Am youth. Somehow, I think that Filipinos in the arts are rarely highlighted. We exist. We are there. This magazine, though it is still fledgling, is a novel (no pun intended :P) idea because it showscases Filipinos in a way, that perhaps prior, we haven't been seen before. I'm proud of the beliefs of the editors of the magazine, what it stands for, what it is doing for the community.
In other editorial news, perhaps I've not mentioned this, but I am the co-head editor of CSUN's literary magazine, The Northridge Review for the Fall 2009 issue. We are nearly complete with the magazine, and are expecting to have a release early in the upcoming semester. :D
Now for the future. I'm not sure what will happen within these next two months. Two friends of mine have thrown a curveball into my life. They are going to Korea to teach English, as part of a special program. I'm excited for them and I want them to succeed, especially because not only is an excellent opportunity to travel, immerse into another culture, and on a humanitarian note, to teach children...but it's also a great alternative to being thrust into the capitalist real world that we call an economically faltering America. I won't lie and say to myself that I applied to grad school so that I could postpone diving into the real world because I couldn't find a job. (However, this is a topic I will further elaborate on, in terms of my longer-term future goals) I can't even get hired at Barnes & Noble, for crying out loud, despite the fact that my resume is looking pretty good now.
In any case, Myra and Jenny, are off to Korea within the next two months, and they will fulfill a year's contract to teach. They are two of my closest friends and I will miss them terribly.
And so they are persuading me to go to Korea and teach as well. -_-
In this article from the New York Times, it is basically saying that because of today's economy, studies in humanities is seen as impractical because it concentrates on personal development, intellectualism, and forward-thinking. It doesn't prepare one for an actual job, like say engineering or medicine would.
At the end, the article says that humanities studies will soon be like it once was at the beginning of the 20th century: something only the wealthy priveleged will study.
This article is horrendously bleak. True: humanities studies do not prepare an individual specifically for an actual job in our society--a capitalist-based society where production and profit are valued. True: humanities is art--which never equals money in the pocket. True: humanities studies has no guarantees.
I call bullshit on the conclusion of the article: that only the wealthy priveleged will be the ones studying humanities. First of all, because of the huge surge in the middle class, and the blurring of the class divisions, we have, in America, rags-to-riches stories. Anyone can work from the bottom to the top if they so desire. Someone who has a degree in humanities, if they push themselves hard enough can become successful. It's the individual's responsibility to align themselves with success--if they so desire. Maybe some humanities students wouldn't mind living in a tool shed, surrounded by their philosophies, candles, and a crusty loaf of bread, so long as they have their books. You can't speak for every individual.
Secondly, even if (and this article smacks of dystopia for me) the humanities and liberal arts education were abolished and kept only for the rich--what kind of world do you envision? Something like in the film, Metropolis--workers, workers, and more workers? Orwellian dystopia? Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 where books are burned? No creativity? No imagination? Stifled words. Our current president is an individualist, free-thinking, forward-thinking man.
I am simply saying that the outcome of humanities studies will not just be for the wealthy. It's not entirely impractical, but you will learn more about yourself and you will craft an identity through your knowledge. Everyone is a humanist at heart, anyhow. We are not unfeeling robots. I do not fear the death of humanities.
As technology and the means of production increase and evolve, modern society now has greater access to everything. From pornography to exclusive art galleries, grape juice to vintage wine and everything in between is available at our disposal. Directly due to the advancement in quicker communication and discoveries in scientific research, mass production enables us to have all the commodities we need. Does all this easy access come at a price? In exploring the novel, Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury, and other texts and films, it is apparent that having things quickly and easily affect the way people feel, act, and think.
First, how and when did the western world become so heavily based on the assembly line process and mass production? Henry Ford revolutionized this means of production for his line of automobiles in the early twentieth century (Batchelor). Ever since then, we have utilized this in America to produce the majority of our goods. Nowadays, we outsource many of the factory jobs to other countries. Generally, this cheap means of labor means that we, as consumers, pay less and are happy with a bargain. However, on the other side, the worker suffers. Unfair wages or long work days contribute to a worker’s overall dissatisfaction. An early example of this would be the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory incident, where the working women were locked in the building, and a large majority died tragically.
A stunning example in film of the effect that this type of labor has on people is seen in Fritz Lang’s masterpiece, Metropolis. In a clip from the film, we see the workers carrying on with their jobs—making repetitive movements and are almost robotic. Perhaps what Lang is trying to criticize here is the near-tyranny of capitalism and how greed can affect the average person. Also in this clip, the robotic and unchanging movements serve to show how this type of environment and lifestyle can deplete a sense of self, or a sense of humanity. These people have become shells; just human bodies that simply function.
In Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, we see exactly this—people are shallow shells that function only on a surface level. They have no substance, no drive, no ambition, no yearning. Intellectual pursuits are forbidden, even. The protagonist, Guy Montag, is a firefighter, whose job is to burn all the books that he and his fellow firefighters find (58). This is what firefighters do in the world of Fahrenheit 451. They are not the heroes people usually associate them as, but as mediators of the so-called peace and sanctity of the culture. Montag then meets people that change his mind about the life he’s living and the world around him. He starts questioning everything. He is having a personal quest to find the truth. It is interesting that he finds dissatisfaction with his life. Chief Beatty is Montag’s superior at the fire station, and he says bluntly:
People want to be happy, isn’t that right? Haven’t you heard it all your life? I want to be happy, people say. Well, aren’t they? Don’t we keep them moving, don’t we give them fun? That’s all we live for, isn’t it? For pleasure, for titillation? And you must admit our culture provides plenty of these. (59)
Essentially, Beatty means that the fireman’s job is mass production. Burn the books, abolish philosophy, complicated thought, and reason because it doesn’t make people happy. If one person knows more than the other, they are not on equal playing ground, which is discouraging for the lesser.
Mass production, in this case loosely defined as making something rapidly and efficiently for all to consume. Philosopher Theodor Adorno, comments about mass production in relation to art: “The stunting of the mass-media consumer’s powers of imagination and spontaneity does not have to be traced back to any psychological mechanisms; he must ascribe the loss of those attributes to the objective nature of the products themselves.” If we are given poor quality entertainment or taught with a lack of substance or intelligence, then our imagination and creativity suffer. In Fahrenheit 451, the mass production of happiness and equality tries to permeate in all aspects of life. People now want instant gratification. This comes in the form of abbreviated television shows, movies, known as “parlor” television or family (Bradbury 82) and pills for sleeping, waking up, and every ailment in between (Bradbury 43).
There is a memorable scene in the film version of Fahrenheit 451 where Montag’s wife, Linda (Mildred in the novel), overdoses on her pills. Montag is distressed and tries to call for emergency help. The emergency line answers nonchalantly, asking him what color the pills are. They come in simple colors like white, blue, and yellow. Then two technicians come to Montag’s house and pump her blood with a machine, which will revive her and they simply shrug it off as routine procedure. What is interesting is how simple the pills are—basic colors—and a doctor does not come to check on Linda. The technology is simultaneously advanced and primitive. Everything is done at a fast pace. Interestingly, why does Linda feel compelled to take so many pills if everyone’s lives are meant to be happy? This is far from a picture of happiness.
Book-burning is the cornerstone of Bradbury’s novel. To burn books is to burn thought, ideas, imagination, creativity, inequality, and suppress revolution. Beatty says that books encourage inequality because, “Bigger the population, the more minorities. Don’t step on the toes of the dog lovers, the cat lovers, doctors, lawyers, merchants, chiefs, Mormons, Baptists, Unitarians, second-generation Chinese, Swedes, Italians, Germans, Texans, Brooklynites Irishmen, people from Oregon or Mexico” (Bradbury 57). This is all in hope that equality will mean contentment for all. However, the scene where Montag and the firemen burn a woman with her books is an example of how much they affect people. She is so attached to her books; she is willing to die with them. She strikes the match herself and the entire house ignites around her. (Bradbury 36-40) The old woman finds her happiness, not in the parlor television screens, or in simple entertainment, but from her books. She rejects her own society. This is echoed here: “The culture industry did away with yesterday’s rubbish by its own perfection, and by forbidding and domesticating the amateurish, although it constantly allows gross blunders without which the standard of the exalted style cannot be perceived” (Adorno & Horkheimer). Therefore mass production borrows from its former elements and churns out low-quality results for all to consume. This explains the old woman’s attachment to her books, her need for something deeper and meaningful, and Montag’s disillusionment with society.
Something I have increasingly noticed in our society, when I observe my family and friends is that there is such a reliance on technology. We are a culture that feasts on gadgets that help to make our lives easier, for example the iPhone or the Blackberry. Time and time again, I have heard people say “what I wouldn’t give to have one of those iPhones right now…I’m so bored!” It makes me wonder, a little nostalgically, what did people do before iPhones and Blackberries? Why do people camp out overnight to buy the newest video game console? Why do people get trampled to death in Wal-Mart because of this overzealous fascination with material things? Is it the “stuff” that makes a person this way, or are we, as people, truly this greedy and lustful? Where does this drive to want more and more things come from--ourselves or what the media portrays? Companies produce to make money, as evidenced in the assembly line formation: fast, efficient, cost-effective. It is an interesting dynamic between producer and consumer, a continuing cycle.
Today, mass production is meant to deliver the things used every day to people in the fastest way possible. The assembly line and the quick communication are optimal for saving time and money. However, it is apparent that mass production of happiness or art, things that are abstract or ambiguous suffer from the exchange. Ray Bradbury’s novel, Fahrenheit 451, gives a glimpse into a society where everything is instant and devoid of thought and imagination. The philosophies of this world have good intentions: to create equality for all. However, equality does not automatically translate to happiness or satisfaction. Rather, the people are vapid, find nothing meaningful, and in the case of Montag, are on a search for fulfillment but never seems satisfied. One cannot produce results or happiness with the flick of a switch or by popping a pill. It comes from within—from a functioning mind.
WORKS CITED
Adorno, Theodor and Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception.” Dialectic of Enlightenment, 1994. CSUN WebCT.
Batchelor, Ray. Henry Ford, Mass Production, Modernism, and Design. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1994.
Bradbury, Ray. Fahrenheit 451. New York: Ballantine, 1953.
Fahrenheit 451. Dir. François Truffaut. Perfs. Julie Christie, Oskar Werner, Cyril Cusack. Universal Pictures, 1966.
Metropolis. Dir. Fritz Lang. Perfs. Alfred Abel, Brigitte Helm, Gustav Frölich, Rudolf Klein-Rogge. Paramount Pictures, 1927.
In her home state of Alaska, a pardon was passed for the turkeys this Thanksgiving and Gov. Sarah Palin was stopped for an interview, gleaming brightly with a Burberry scarf wrapped around her neck.
You know, I love all things Palin (sense the tone) and this is just so irresistibly ironic, I had to share. :-|
As technology and the means of production increase and evolve, modern society now has greater access to everything. From pornography to exclusive art galleries, grape juice to vintage wine and everything in between is available at our disposal. Directly due to the advancement in quicker communication and discoveries in scientific research, mass production enables us to have all the commodities we need. Does all this easy access come at a price? In exploring the novel, Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury, it is apparent that having things quickly and easily affect the way people feel, act, and think.
We will begin by addressing the premise of Bradbury’s story. The protagonist, Guy Montag, is a firefighter, whose job is to burn all the books that he and his fellow firefighters find (58). This is what firefighters do in the world of Fahrenheit 451. They are not the heroes people usually associate them as, but as mediators of the so-called peace and sanctity of the culture. Montag then meets people that change his mind about the life he’s living and the world around him. He starts questioning everything. He is having a personal quest to find the truth. It is interesting that he finds dissatisfaction with his life. Chief Beatty is Montag’s superior at the fire station, and he says bluntly:
People want to be happy, isn’t that right? Haven’t you heard it all your life? I want to be happy, people say. Well, aren’t they? Don’t we keep them moving, don’t we give them fun? That’s all we live for, isn’t it? For pleasure, for titillation? And you must admit our culture provides plenty of these. (59)
Essentially, Beatty means that the firemen’s job is mass production. Burn the books, abolish philosophy, complicated thought, and reason because it doesn’t make people happy. If one person knows more than the other, they are not on equal playing ground, which is discouraging for the lesser.
Mass production, in this case loosely defined as making something rapidly and efficiently for all to consume. Philosopher Theodor Adorno, comments about mass production in relation to art: “The stunting of the mass-media consumer’s powers of imagination and spontaneity does not have to be traced back to any psychological mechanisms; he must ascribe the loss of those attributes to the objective nature of the products themselves.” If we are given poor quality entertainment or taught with a lack of substance or intelligence, then our imagination and creativity suffer. In Fahrenheit 451, the mass production of happiness and equality tries to permeate in all aspects of life. People now want instant gratification. This comes in the form of abbreviated television shows, movies, known as “parlor” television or family (Bradbury 82) and pills for sleeping, waking up, and every ailment in between (Bradbury 43).
There is a memorable scene in the film version of Fahrenheit 451 where Montag’s wife, Linda (Mildred in the novel), overdoses on her pills. Montag is distressed and tries to call for emergency help. The emergency line answers nonchalantly, asking him what color the pills are. They come in simple colors like white, blue, and yellow. Then two technicians come to Montag’s house and pump her blood with a machine, which will revive her and they simply shrug it off as routine procedure. What is interesting is how simple the pills are—basic colors—and a doctor does not come to check on Linda. The technology is simultaneously advanced and primitive. Everything is done at a fast pace. Interestingly, why does Linda feel compelled to take so many pills if everyone’s lives are meant to be happy? This is far from a picture of happiness.
Book-burning is the cornerstone of Bradbury’s novel. To burn books is to burn thought, ideas, imagination, creativity, inequality, and suppress revolution. Beatty says that books encourage inequality because, “Bigger the population, the more minorities. Don’t step on the toes of the dog lovers, the cat lovers, doctors, lawyers, merchants, chiefs, Mormons, Baptists, Unitarians, second-generation Chinese, Swedes, Italians, Germans, Texans, Brooklynites Irishmen, people from Oregon or Mexico” (Bradbury 57). This is all in hope that equality will mean contentment for all. However, the scene where Montag and the firemen burn a woman with her books is an example of how much they affect people. She is so attached to her books; she is willing to die with them. She strikes the match herself and the entire house ignites around her. (Bradbury 36-40) The old woman finds her happiness, not in the parlor television screens, or in simple entertainment, but from her books. She rejects her own society. This is echoed here: “The culture industry did away with yesterday’s rubbish by its own perfection, and by forbidding and domesticating the amateurish, although it constantly allows gross blunders without which the standard of the exalted style cannot be perceived” (Adorno & Horkheimer). Therefore mass production borrows from its former elements and churns out low-quality results for all to consume. This explains the old woman’s attachment to her books, her need for something deeper and meaningful, and Montag’s disillusionment with society.
Today, mass production is meant to deliver the things used every day to people in the fastest way possible. The assembly line and the quick communication are optimal for saving time and money. However, it is apparent that mass production of happiness or art, things that are abstract or ambiguous suffer from the exchange. Ray Bradbury’s novel, Fahrenheit 451, gives a glimpse into a society where everything is instant and devoid of thought and imagination. The philosophies of this world have good intentions: to create equality for all. However, equality does not automatically translate to happiness or satisfaction. Rather, the people are vapid, find nothing meaningful, and in the case of Montag, are on a search for fulfillment but never seems satisfied. One cannot produce results or happiness with the flick of a switch or by popping a pill. It comes from within—from a functioning mind.
WORKS CITED
Adorno, Theodor and Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception.” Dialectic of Enlightenment, 1944. CSUN WebCT.
Bradbury, Ray. Fahrenheit 451. New York: Ballantine, 1953.
Fahrenheit 451. Dir. François Truffaut. Perfs. Julie Christie, Oskar Werner, Cyril Cusack. Universal Pictures, 1966.
(Pictures come courtesy of googling images).
Also...Prof. Wexler, I'm sure you know, but just in case, anything written for your class has the label, "english 312" on it. You can just click on the label and it will all be on one page for you.
Walter Benjamin, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" "The simultaneous contemplation of paintings by a large public, such as developed in the nineteenth century, is an early symptom of the crisis of painting, a crisis which was by no means occasioned exclusively by photography but rather in a relatively independent manner by the appeal of art works to the masses."
Adorno, Theodor and Horkheimer, Max "The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception" "The assembly-line character of the culture industry, the synethetic, planned method of turning out its products...the easy yet catchy, the skillful yet simple; the object is to overpower the customer, who is conceived as absent-minded or resistant."
Bradbury, Ray, Fahrenheit 451 "The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books leveled down to a sort of pastepudding norm, do you follow me?"
Interesting discussion this week, concerning the Benjamin, Adorno, and Ray Bradbury’s quotes. Essentially, I do think that the quality of art, which encompasses the visual and performing, or actually anything really, is going down in standards due to mass production. Yes, I’m on that side of the fence.
My reasoning is because I’ve watched a lot of documentaries on the Discovery Channel of how items are stamped out by the millions by machines. Clothes, food, musical instruments, what have you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen the same T-shirt on a person because they sell dozens of the same shirt at a particular store. Or what about food made in factories, like packaged or processed foods, where a human hand has never touched a single aspect of the cooking? I guess you can say I’m much more partial to products where a lot of care and attention has been paid to each individual item. I realize that today’s big factory machines are programmed to ensure high quality standards and maintain consistency. And that most companies would lose money if things were manufactured without the machines, because of time and labor. But then it starts to become a cookie cutter. Wouldn’t we get bored of it after a while? Or are we already bored of it? The mass production that we have in America is a huge contributor to making us such a dominant country. The simple laws of supply and demand have made our lives a little simpler and have made everything more accessible to all people.
However, in David Harvey’s interview, which I thoroughly enjoyed for his magnificent insight into America’s future, he spoke of America’s dominance in production will eventually waver and no longer be the dominant. I just think if we keep simplifying everything, making everything cookie cutter, things lose their uniqueness.
(I recommend watching the last 20 minutes of this video). We’re not currently in danger of losing our own individual identities and uniqueness, like the people in gray jumpsuits of Orwell's 1984, but I do think that it is a form of streamlining into something more uniform. Besides, cookie cutters are a necessary evil. So that when we do have something come out, a movie, for example, that is brilliant, it stands out among all the others. That’s what makes something special.
I spent about an hour on Sunday afternoon, driving around my neighborhood in Eagle Rock. I stopped at a red light, just a mere half a block away from my apartment. I was in the middle lane and there were a few cars in the right lane. When the light turned green, the first car wasn’t moving, so the driver behind honked their horn, probably thinking they didn’t see that the light had turned green. The driver signaled for them to go on ahead. So the first car stayed stuck there at the light and turned on their emergency lights while everyone behind them passed by.
We have all had instances where we’ve passed someone who has car trouble and/or is stuck on the side of the road. What I think is dystopian about the actions of the drivers, and the point that I am trying to make is that here is just one example of our society. We can be more or less selfish; and care about our own actions and our individual selves—not necessarily a Good Samaritan type of world. I know that we’ve been talking about socialism and the egalitarian types of societies in dystopia, but this is the opposite of that. No one is really equal. Some people can afford to have their cars running in tip top shape. Some can’t afford to keep their cars reliable.
In a true dystopian society, I think that’s citizens might be; in fact, they may be even worse tenfold because under a totalitarian government, you would do everything you can to stay on the good side of the law, and disregard everyone else. There’s no equal ground. You’re out to save yourself from getting chained and to achieve your own individual success.
This is related to our reading in 1984, particularly the portions that describe the citizens of Oceania. They watch the beheadings and are completely desensitized by it. It's more like sport or entertainment. That's how we react to traffic accidents on the side of the freeway. It's just another thing that makes us spectators.
Here's a fancy pants trick to pull a fast one on your schoolmate brethren. Watch how a girl wins back her money, preying on the weak and cloudy-headed.
If you go to a commuter school, (which I do), you know that finding a parking spot is an elusive treasure hunt. It's a touch and go situation, where timing, strategy, and hunting, are used to track down a wary student and follow them to their car. Sometimes they'll catch your eye and tell you exactly where their car is, everything down to the type, color, maybe even year (from the car enthusiasts). Or if they're not leaving, just going to the car to refresh themselves, some are courteous enough to wave away the "I'm not leaving finger." Some understand that just a shake of the head means that the student is not leaving.
Conversely, some students will downright give you an evil eye. They might not acknowledge you. They press their greasy ears against cell phones to appear to look busy just so they can avoid you and your anxious need for a parking spot. Or as I see it these days, they talk into bluetooth devices now, which just makes you look crazy, in addition to being slightly bitchy. I've seen all and more of these types of things.
Yesterday morning, I was rushing to school. I had a family emergency to take care of and I left my home a little later than I needed to get to class on time. At my school, parking on the street is available, but there are zones that prohibit parking for more than few hours. So if you need to stay on campus for a long time, you have to park several blocks away. I decided to bypass parking on the street and to pay the ripoff price of $5 for a day permit on campus.
The problem with that was the fact that there was a gigantic car pileup so it was difficult to efficiently drive onto campus without long waiting times. I was already late by the time I arrived at the parking lot. Luckily, I tracked down a girl who was leaving. One of those "on-the-cell-I'm-busy-types" but I really didn't care. When I parked, I ran out of the car to a ticket vending machine to buy a permit when I hear "hey!"
After a few moments, I realized it was that same girl whose spot I had taken. She offered to let me buy her parking permit because she wasn't going to use it. I was already late, I was having trouble with my personal problems at home, I wasn't thinking straight. I decided to take her up on the offer. I only had a $5 bill but I said, brushing her off "Just keep it. I was going to pay five bucks anyway." She just let me have it for $4, so I received $1. As she pilfered through her powder blue wallet for change, I spotted a bulging amount of twenty-dollar bills. I guess it was a win-win situation, but in retrospect, that girl hustled and her win was greater. She basically got her money back for the permit she bought and I was down $4. What a smart bitch! This is an example of how the rich get richer and the poor stay poor in our so-called advanced and capitalist society. I was played like a fool. I have got to work on my hustling skills. I'll bet you're really loving capitalism now.
