Monday, May 30, 2005

Defining Myself By What I Am Not

Fight Club came out about a year before I graduated from college. At the time it was one of my favorite movies (still is, even though I haven't watched it in years), and I appreciated its message as a cautionary tale as much as I liked Tyler Durden's anti-attachment screed. "You are not the clothes you wear, you are not the car you drive," etc. Angela reminded me of this - albeit obliquely - this weekend. She was fairly derisive of our new house (admit it, you were) and where we chose to purchase our home. At first I was a little pissed off, because I worked fucking hard to get where I am and the stuff I have. But I thought about it a little more. I thought about an essay I wrote my senior year of college, some of which was based partially on Tyler's mantra, where I implored my future self to constantly examine whether or not I was becoming what I most feared becoming.

You are not the clothes you wear.
You are not the car you drive.
You are not your fucking kakhis!

So how am I doing? I offer these corollaries to Tyler's philosophy:

You are not the house you own.
You are not the neighborhood in which you live.
You are not your strange neighbors.
You are not the operating system you use on your computer.
You are not your salary or your benefits.

And, in examining my life, I would say that I have lived up to each and every one of those points.

Edit: This is not intended to be directed at Angela or anyone - the idea here was that Angela's comments steered me to some soul-searching. My apologies if this seems passive-aggressive to anyone. If it is, it's the second-such thing I've done recently that wasn't intended to be so, which is a good indication that perhaps I might need to seriously re-examine how I've been approaching interpersonal relationships these days.

10 comments:

Roger Whitson said...

Jason,

I admit, I'm split on the issue. True, you should be able to enjoy what you have worked hard for. At the same time, there are plenty of people who work hard (as hard or maybe even harder than you do) and yet do not get what you have gotten. So, I wouldn't argue that what you have is simply the product of your labor. And if you read the Zizek essay I sent you, you will find that (all too often) contemporary capitalism and Buddhist mantras work hand in hand. I would be more inclined to read Fight Club's pseudo-Buddhism as an attempt to reclaim an archaic definition of manhood and, instead of rethinking the relationship between capital and domination of labor, the movie goes inward and almost becomes a trite exposition of schizophrenic maleness in light of capitalist oversaturation.

But this, "going inward" and "rejection of material goods" is precisely what makes Western Buddhism, for Zizek, the ultimate supplement to global capitalism because it ensures that nothing ever gets done.

"The 'Western Buddhist' meditative stance is arguably the most efficient way for us to fully participate in the capitalist economy while retaining the appearance of sanity."

This is because everything becomes an issue of identity--and our participation in efforts to end economic exploitation is measured by questions of identity. Are we being revolutionary enough? Is our existence authentic enough in terms of the Buddhist mantras that we pontificated about in college while reading comic books, playing video games, and enjoying the luxuries of college life? I mean, I am sympathetic with meditation and thoughtfulness--especially in a time where it is never quite obvious what we should do. However, at the same time, I'm almost inclined to say that both you and Angela are wrong. This isn't an issue about identity, or whether you earned the right to buy a home in a particular part of Seattle. BUT, the question is how you react to a widening gap between the rich and the poor, especially as you become more "successful"--whatever that means.

Jason said...

So perhaps it is a mixture of hard work and utilizing my talents?

I do not feel any guilt over the fact that I have taken advantage not only of my abilities, but my education and the opporunities that have arose to use it. I chose not to get a girl pregnant in high school. I chose not to waste my life on drugs. I saw places where I could expand my abilities as a writer and took them, even if writing about how people with more money than I have should buy cars I will probably never afford.

You are most certainly right: what I have is the product not only of my labor, but of my talens and my decisions on how to use those talents. Talent means absolutely nothing if you've wasted it by not developing it, labor will net you nothing if you don't focus it in a place that is both lucrative and sane (to your person), and neither will amount to anything if the decisions you've made have resulted in a situation you cannot escape - say, for example, you have a child as a teenager.

And frankly, I feel no need to feel guilty about the good choices I've made when there are so many other people who have made some terrible decisions. In fact, I take a great deal of pride in the knowledge that my choices have been good and that I've taken advantage of opportunities as they presented themselves and not pissed it away.

That being said, although I can see where Zizek is coming from, his definition of "Western Buddhism" as an ultimate supplment to global culture because it ensures nothing ever gets done couldn't be farther from the truth. "nothing gets done" denotes mindful action (or the lack thereof) and mindful action means acting with the intent to do "something" - in this case, some implied way to make the world better.

I'd like to think that the fact that I spent two years helping people who made very poor decisions overcome those decisions is "doing something," and something good at that. I'd like to think that working at a game company, where our primary reason for existing is to make people happy and bring people closer in social interaction in a day when so many people chose to interact over the faceless Internet is "doing something," and something good at that. In fact, I feel that I have - in a way that I don't even totally agreed-with - rolled up my sleeves and taken action in the world, to aim a little Heideggerian. Although I make money from this job, it certainly doesn't pay nearly as much as other jobs in my field, but it pays enough so that I can have the things I need and a few of the things I like.

Sorry I haven't called back, by the time I was off work tonight it was after midnight your time.

Roger Whitson said...

Well, I'm not arguing that you should feel guilty. I AM saying that there is more to success than either labor OR talent. The fact that you didn't start in an LA slum might give you certain advantages that others didn't have. Furthermore, sometimes "mindful action" is so mindful that you don't actually do anything. I am a great example of this.

The point is that Zizek is overgeneralizing. There are very important Buddhist activists. At the same time, many Buddhists use their "detachment" as an excuse not to do anything. Remember (and this is a bit of a stretch, lumping in Hinduism and Buddhism) that the Bhagavad Gita is basically a prolonged argument about why a solider should go back to war. Detachment makes it easier to follow statist policies and still believe that you are somehow "transcendent" from the state.

Jason said...

Ah, that makes a little more sense. Zizek was overgeneralizing, although I can certainly see his point - most of the time I cannot abide other "western" Buddhists simply because they tend to use their beliefs as a crutch (actually, my main complaint against all organized religion).

I would like to note that the sacrifices of our parents and family members - as you alluded to - did certainly have some effect on the opporunities presented to me. I was born in Mt. Vernon Ohio, so while it isn't the LA ghetto it is hillbilly near-poverty - but my parents both went to college, and my grandparents made enormous sacrifices to send them there - and my great-grandparents left the security of home and family to forge across the Atlantic on the hope that America could offer them something better - or something better for their descendents. Which it did.

It is that America that I believe we should offer to everyone - a land of opporunity where hard work is enough to feed your family, no matter what your profession.

I would be very interested to know how you're a good example of mindful action by not doing anything - I thought you were kidding but the caffiene is interfering with my humor receptors. :D

Roger Whitson said...

i don't have much time to comment, but here goes.
i was alluding to my practice of endless deliberation on almost everything that happens to me (especially dating during college), and never actually doing anything to better whatever my situation is. I do this from time to time, and I'm sure I did this during college.

The problem I see with your version of America is that it frequently does not reward hard work. This is a myth. Now, of course, we can use the myth to make sure that America is a better place to live, but I don't think that it is inherently fair--your comments about where your parents began notwithstanding.

The problem I saw with your post, and the reason I talked about the Buddhist mantra and its affiliation with capitalist exploitation, is that the structure of your argument about "not being your home" falls under the very same critique you employ against other Western Buddhists. You are using _Fight Club_, or whatever Buddhism as a crutch. The logic of the argument is that you aren't your house and therefore you don't have to feel guilty about owning the house. I'm not saying you have to feel guilty, but you certainly shouldn't use a philosophy that teaches detachment from the material world to justify still owning material goods. Western Buddhists frequently do this, and thus (indirectly) justify capitalist exploitation in the very act of practicing their faith.

Elizabeth said...

I in no way want to speak for Jason, but I will add my own two pennies here. What I took from Jason's comments is that it is very easy to define yourself by your possessions, whatever they may be, housing, location, intellect, clothes, or an en vogue philosophy. I saw him reaffirming that while he has worked hard and is, to use a word with far too many connotations, "proud" of those accomplishments, they do not define who he is. What I saw here is that, the things we own or attribute to ourselves which can then define us change through time, GPAs, kakis and cars were very prescient reminders of class and used for self definition in college, while career choices, advanced degrees, and houses fill those roles as we move into those stages of life. Or can, if we let them. I saw Jason affirming that were all that has been "achieved" to dissolve or never to have happened, he would still be himself.

I think what's interesting here between what I got from what Jason wrote and your (Roger) following comments is where we end up: anti-attachment really is more about how you define yourself and indeed many western Buddhists misunderstand the middle way and think it’s anti-materialistic and see anti-attachment as something more akin to not caring leading to the Hamlet style inaction that you self-reference. That “not caring” can then lead to excusing oneself from taking responsibility for the consequences of our actions. Indeed we do live in a pond and things always ripple out. And anti-attachment isn’t about whether or not you own kakis, but whether or not you are the kakis that you own.

This, I think, leads us a fairly keen understanding of the thin line we walk, which is where I felt like you were heading, Roger. Though we may choose not to be defined by what we own, our choices have larger consequences and our awareness of those consequences and how we address them, does indeed say something about the kind of people we are- though descriptively and not prescriptively- again dealing with the issue of self-definition. Can someone then backwards intuit from what one does to what/who one “is”?

I have felt that you (Roger) at times have thought much less of me because of my career choices vs grad school, and I can't even begin to count the number of times I've heard Angela deride my choice of living situation, be it in a lowly apartment on the east-side or now my house. Well I don't know exactly what to say. At this time in my life I've chosen to be in the seething mass of humanity and have tried to live by example instead of taking on a teaching role. I've lost count of how many co-workers, peers, and acquaintances have told me how much of a difference I've made in their lives. And I’m proud of the places that I’ve worked, helping people, helping the environment and keeping people connected.

I lived on the east side because it was closer to work and allowed me to car pool, which is less damaging to the environment. Does it make me part of urban sprawl? I don't know. Is new urban sprawl worse than old urban sprawl? For that matter, should I exit society and live off the land so as to live within the confines of a more responsible eco system, or should I stay in the world and try my best to live there responsibly and help others do the same? Is there a ruler somewhere that tells me which is the best choice? I haven't found one. Is suburbia soul-less? I don’t know, do people have souls? If they do, would I be happier around people who are like me? Would I do better work around those who aren’t? Is it better for me to be happier or doing more lasting work?

I mean, these are the _easy_ questions in life. And here there is nothing but a soup of grey. Again, speaking for myself, all I can say is that capitalism is _me_. Government is _me_. THEM is also _me_. All I can do, all anyone can do is live with verisimilitude and integrity. If I see capitalism as a system outside of myself, then I will never be strong enough to change it. If I see suburbia as inferior based god knows what, how will I ever hope to do anything but alienate myself from people by constantly judging them? Just because the concept that America rewards hard work is a myth doesn’t mean it’s a myth that I can’t wish were true and work towards making true.

Blah. Anyway. There’s my partially-articulate thought for the week! :)

Roger Whitson said...

Them is also you, but you aren't always you. The government is (sometimes) you, but there is also an alienation here. I mean, that's what alienation is--you don't choose where you live when you are born, you don't choose what language you have to learn in school, you don't choose where you begin. And you can somewhat choose where you end, but even this isn't entirely under your control.

I will reserve comments of a more personal nature to discussion on the phone, where I think it belongs. I will just say that I never attempt to make people feel that I look down on them or are dissapointed in them--and I wholeheartedly apologize if I have made certain people feel this way. I just want my friends to be happy. That's it. I don't care what they do to be happy, as long as it doesn't involve genocide (or global nuclear holocaust) I'm pretty okay.

Back to the issue at hand. Liz is right to say that everything isn't black and white. I totally agree. I, personally, wasn't talking about choices. We all make choices based on a number of criteria that should include whether or not whatever we do makes us happy. I think it is important, and this is why I bring up these issues from time to time, to think about what choices we make and why we make them. And I wasn't intending any of this to be a personal critique. The only thing I disagreed with was Jason's method of justification.

Now, on to the larger issues that Liz brings up. The problem is that none of us can consistently make choices that directly address all of the social problems that confront us today. Whatever we do, we perform violence on someone or something else--even if we think about the meat we might eat, the flies we swat in order to keep from contaminating our house, the imperialist country we reside in, the corporations whose sweatshops we support by purchasing products, etc etc etc. The global-capitalist system produces and reproduces oppression from so many different angles that it is impossible to "be" the nonviolent people all of us quite obviously want to be. I mean, we could become Jainists, but that would just mean inevitable suicide as we stop bathing in order to preserve the life of bacteria that reside on our skin.

The issue, I think, more than anything else is realizing that we do these things and not attempting to clear ourselves of whatever responsibility we have to the fellow inhabitants of this planet. But this also mean, and I'm sorry if I sound accusatory because I know I do the same thing from time to time, using philosophy or religion or a mixture of the two to justify our actions. Actions, ultimately, have no justification. Whatever good I accomplish by performing a single action does nothing to allieviate the suffering of people I ignore in performing that very action. As an example of this, Derrida argues that whenever I feed my cat, every other cat in the world starves--this may sound ridiculous, but it is true and it is also (I think) a central ethical quandry.

So, the problem for me is not the action per se. I had a problem because it seemed that Jason was using the Buddhist mantra to argue for the right to ownership. This seems counter to the entire idea of detachment, or at the very least it allows for large corporations to continue doing their business--exploiting people in Indonesia and Asia for better profit margins--as long as whoever is doing the exploiting doesn't "identify" with the products that are being made.

So--yes--I understand that the amount of suffering and oppression is difficult to manage. At the same time, I believe that it is a duty of each and every one of us to be aware of the violence we perform and to attempt to limit that violence in whatever way we think works.

Elizabeth said...

quickly- all of my comments were offered in a context of self-reflection. For any time I may have felt you were disappointed in me, firstly I would only give that a second thought because i respect you and secondly you usually see through me when I'm trying to fool myself- sometimes it takes a vocialization from an "other" to bring to mind questions of identity and choices one would rather overlook. I only said what I said as an example of firends who I value pointing things out which indeed I wrestle with. As you say "The global-capitalist system produces and reproduces oppression from so many different angles that it is impossible to "be" the nonviolent people all of us qu*ite obviously want to be. I mean, we could become Jainists, but that would just mean inevitable suicide as we stop bathing in order to preserve the life of bacteria that reside on our skin." In the face of that very- in some sense Nietzchian- conundrum how do we exist and not become complacent with our own rationalizations? Yet, we all rationalize, which in the end, one could argue, is always flawed if all inherent meaning or value is self created.

Roger Whitson said...

See, the problem is that existing is complacency--unless we affirm the difference that strikes through that complacency. This is what being a yes-sayer is all about, I suppose. I don't know. In some sense, we are coming up to a Derridean aporia that I've never been able to move past--and neither has anyone else without really repressing the aporia. Existence is domination--even biologically speaking. And unless you want to be paranoid about violence (in the way Emmanuel Levinas wants us to be; that is, knowing that at any moment we can and are violent), I don't really know what to say. Progressive politics always seems to hinge upon the ability to repress the violence done in the name of
"the cause"--whether this be ideological violence in not choosing to consider certain points of view or physical violence by instituting bloody revolutions.

This is why I'm choosing not to write about this right now. Even though I'm interested in this problem and it plagues me ALL of the time, I don't feel that I have the intellectual capacity to think through it with the rigor it deserves. Maybe no one does, and maybe this is precisely why none of us seems to be able to do anything when neo-conservatives call for war in Iraq or whatever. The very thing we fight for sometimes keeps us from fighting--liberals have almost become Hamlet gesticulating about whether or not George W. will go into the heaven or hell of history if we succeed in making him politically impotent. This isn't exactly what i mean, but if you remember the part in Hamlet where he wonders whether Claudius will go to heaven or hell, you'll get my point. Some of us, including myself, are so enamored with the potential good we can do with a post-industrial American society that we are all-too eager to compromise the values that made us liberal (even classically liberal) in the first place. We have no proletarian class that can be coaxed into revolution, this group has already been appropriated by the radical right. So, what is there to do?

And people wonder why I think we are more oppressed than ever...Obama can talk about bringing back hope and whatever, but we still live in a country where a vast majority of people care less about freedom of speech and religion than who got voted off of Survivor last night.

Elizabeth said...

well, that about sums it up. :) I think that this takes us back to _just being_. As I said before, I think all anyone can do is take the best knowledge, wisdom, insight, hard thinking and understanding they have at any given moment and act to the best of their ability. We will never live in a world where we won't be choosing between things, or a world without suffering (to take us back to buddhism) or a world where we can control causality. In as much as that knowledge can make us feel trapped and impotent, it is also the only thing that will ever set us free to act in any capacity, whether is the form of our ideal or the best reflection we can come up with.