Batfort

Style reveals substance

Category: Rhetoric & Aesthetics (page 1 of 7)

Exploring Aesthetics I

One of the questions that I’ve always wanted to delve into is the relationship between the aesthetic presentation and truth value of a message.

It may be as simple of a question as “does the truth have a visual style?”

But if so, what is that style? Does it change with the times?

Does truth, then, change with the times?

Then it is not truth.

My mind is intrigued by this question.

Maybe it’s an important question to ask, maybe it’s not.

Maybe by forcing myself to think it through I’ll discover more important things about visual communication or the structure of arguments.

I honestly don’t know.

Sometimes I try to classify visual elements into “binary coins,” to create a scale by which you could sort something visually or conceptually.

  • tidy/untidy
  • shallow/deep
  • copy/original
  • pretty/ugly

We often trust beautiful people, but the same people can be puppets for other people’s words and agendas.

Many people believe that “cleanliness is next to godliness,” yet the world can be a very complex and untidy place. God made pine trees that shed their pollen and coat everything with a thin coating of yellow. Is that tidy?

Must beauty come at the expense of depth?

Are there requisite visual elements to truth? Or is it all just visual/intellectual posturing?

(“I’m too good to pay attention to how I look.”)

I’ve long been curious about this.

So it’s time to explore deeper, to ask questions and push for answers.

Slowly, but surely, I want to pull at this “problem.”

More on Magazines

I’ve been exploring the question of whether magazines have always been propaganda. I think it’s safe to say that the answer is YES.

At the very least, they are a very convenient meme vector for propagandists such as Edward Bernays, the inventor of PR and nephew of Sigmund Freud. He pioneered the “hall of mirrors” technique by orchestrating an “environment of consent” around his products. This included pitching a different “exclusive” story to all the different women’s magazines.

In Memoriam: Karl Lagerfeld is Dead

The fashion industry is diminished today.

Karl Lagerfeld was one of the—no. He was THE grandmaster of fashion. Complete shitlord. Did what he wanted, NFG. Master troll. Didn’t capitulate to terrorists or PETA anti-fur weirdos or anyone, really.

Basically he was the complete opposite of the fashion pack mentality.

Karl has been judging my bulletin board since 2009

The man was a force of nature. He was of the same era as designers like Yves Saint Laurent, but unlike YSL who eventually gave up and died, Karl kept living. He ran creative for multiple high-profile brands at once, actively did photography, and never gave the fashion media what it wanted.

The more I think about it, the more I appreciate how much Karl carved out a space for himself in fashion using villain tactics, along the same lines of Trump and Cernovich.

These tactics include, but are not limited to, the fact that he:

  • Created a look for himself that was immediately identifiable and almost impossible for anyone else to pull off. I’m reminded of Alice Cooper, who also used the villain trope.
  • Always, always shipped. (See: “Real artists ship.”) The man worked.
  • Gave the something to talk about. Whether it was the Wookie Suit or the Vulva Scarf (see above), he created news cycles.

Karl’s death has left a huge void in fashion.

The only two people I can think of who might be able to step up and fill it are John Galliano or Marc Jacobs. Both are creative enough. Galliano has already fallen from grace once, and Marc Jacobs is a known troll.

Anyway. Weird things happen when there’s a void. We shall see.

RIP, Uncle Karl.

Memesurgence

Starting to feel meme energy again.

Maybe it’s AOC. She certainly sparked a fire.

Maybe it’s the return of characters from the past, like Baked Alaska here.

Oh look it’s Sam Hyde

Maybe it’s the steam that rolls off the internet when Trump retweets a meme.

Or maybe it’s just confirmation bias.

Artist: Owen Cyclops

But when I see seeds that were planted by certain memelords years ago grow into might, towering, fake-news oak trees,

I look at the Accelerationists, and think

“What if they were right?”

A Very Personal Review of Mike Cernovich’s HOAXED

I’m having difficulty writing about Hoaxed in much the same way I had difficulty writing a review of Scott Adams’ Win Bigly or Dangerous by Milo Yiannopoulos. So difficult that I didn’t post a review of either of those books.

Because I keep my eyes open to what’s going on in the “new right,” there was very little “new” information (for me) in those books, which makes me think they’re not relevant and therefore not worth passing on.

What I forget is that while something may not be new to me, it can still be new to others.

That’s why I’m writing about Hoaxed.

Hoaxed focuses on fake news—hit pieces, media manipulation, rhetoric.

“All media is narrative,” states Mike Cernovich to open the documentary, “And we’re in a war of narratives.”

For the next 2 hours, Cerno takes us on a tour of the underbelly of the media: talking to the subjects of media hitpieces (“I know all about the rotting cadaver that is Washington”—Anthony Scaramucci), exposing tactics of manipulation  (“All photographs are accurate, and none of them are the truth”—Peter Duke), and providing historical accounts (such as the utter lie that led to the first Gulf War).

During this guided tour, Mike (or others speaking for him—such as a great segment with Ryan Holiday) also shows us how he himself uses media tactics to get attention and influence. The “funhouse mirror” effect.

But the spotlight isn’t limited to Mike. “New media” plays a big role in Hoaxed as the hero—the people who are out taking action with what Tim Pool describes as an “entrepreneurial attitude.”

When Tim describes how he runs a one-man shop, doing the work that would take 4-5 people in the mainstream media, I can understand why they hate the new media so much.

It brings to mind another new media figure who is also hated by the mainstream media: Pewdiepie. His segment “Pew News” gets more views than any mainstream media show. He beats them at their own game while mocking them mercilessly (“But I’m not supposed to share my opinion!”), and they can’t do anything about it. The more hitpieces they write about him, the higher his credibility grows.

Speaking of YouTube, the visual style of this documentary owes a great debt to it. In fact, for a documentary about the news, it feels much more like a YouTube videoessay than a ponderous 60-minutes style news show. I’m going to bet that’s deliberate.

The visual style bounces all over the place, switching emotional tone as we are guided through the movie’s narrative. The directors (Scooter Downey and Jon du Toit) use a myriad of clips from media sources to frame each topic—using newscasters’ own voices to convict them.

I especially like the tactic of layering a voiceover onto completely different footage. This can be used for comic relief—talking about an “artful dodge” over a clip of George W Bush ducking out of the way of a flying shoe—but also for dramatic effect—layering someone else’s recitation of a Trump comment over footage of Trump himself speaking, breaking the “spell” that’s normally cast when voice and image go together.

This technique is used to great effect in the comic version of Watchmen to advance multiple narrative threads at once, and it works well in Hoaxed.

My main issue with Hoaxed is that it feels a little bit like preaching to the choir. The film does highlight media hoaxes that pertain to other tribes—like Black Lives Matter and the abominable treatment of Bernie Sanders at the 2016 DNC—but the treatment of each subject feels covered with a veneer of MAGAism. (Almost like the film is trying to wake up the MAGA crowd more than reach across the aisle.)

Back in college, I took a mass media course from an acerbic long-haired hippie who brought in his guitar to demonstrate resonance and taught us about yellow journalism and how the media acts as a PR machine for the government (or, to be more precise, the deep state). Far left guys like him have long been critical of the establishment media, and their voices would have added depth to this film.

I would have loved to hear from someone like Caitlin Johnstone, for example.

But that’s okay. Hoaxed is still a worthwhile movie. It’s one that you can watch with friends, and have a meaty conversation afterwards. I watched it with my brother, and we stayed up half the night talking.

One of the reasons for that is the ending. Hoaxed ends on a perfect note—Stefan Molyneux’s telling of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave.” Stefan weaves a beautiful story, and the directors shot compelling cave footage that illustrates the point beautifully.

Never before had I connected the “Allegory of the Cave” with the life and death of Jesus Christ, but this film—without explicitly stating it—illuminated a little bit more of how Christ, a man, is also the logos, the Truth, the Word.

So that leaves us with…the most despairing of all happy endings? I struggle to describe this. I love the ending, because it’s so hopeful. We can leave behind our chains and embrace Truth. We can turn away from the darkness of the cave to the Light of Life.

Yet we cannot force others to see, or to leave behind the shadows of the cave.

Where we cannot change minds, we can plant seeds. Provide little off-ramps from groupthink. Poke holes in accepted narratives. Reach out to people who are questioning.

And Hoaxed provides a way to do this.

 


Disclosure: I backed the Hoaxed project on Kickstarter.

Image of the week: #tbt edition

I haven’t thought about this photo in months. Maybe years. It’s hard to keep track at this point. I don’t remember what crisis brought this photo into being. There have been too many since then, and they keep coming faster and faster.

What I do remember is how this photo—like some of the other gems from the 2016-2018 period, so concisely sums up our situation.

It’s gotta be the smirk.

The attitudes, the antagonist and protagonist (which is which?), the bystanders, all wrapped up into an incredibly dense visual package. One that’s blessedly free of corporate logos with a cohesive color palette.

I’m in a fit of nostalgia tonight, nostalgia for the meme wars of 2016. When the fight seemed winnable. When the memes were actually funny. When the conflict was somehow still in meme-land and not something that I feel the need to prepare for.

For the longest time I’ve known that if I were ever to write songs, they would be lamentations. I could never write angry songs—that’s not my mode of being. But lamentations, when there is so much beauty in the world?

The older I get the more I know why. The conflict—the war—is already around us. We just can’t see it. We’re in a fog of our own making, waiting for the spark that will explode the gas so that we can see again.

I know that we should not give in to despair, but dang sometimes it’s hard to keep my chin up.

It’s gotta be exhausting

…the way these wannabe wizards run around casting spells all day.

They repeat these words over and over and OVER like their words will somehow shape reality.

The interesting thing is that, while I do believe that words have impact on reality (especially the reality in our own minds), ultimately words are just…well…words. Especially when you’re up against someone who is better at words than you are, and someone who has millions of prayers at his back.

The circus around Trump has birthed some really great compilation edits, so I really can’t be too mad.

Exposes these clowns for who they really are.

It’s true: I made a Zine

After so much wondering about the sincerity of fashion magazines, and magazines in general, I decided that it’s time to step up myself.

So I made a zine!

 

>>> You can download it here: Batfort Zine – Photo Manipulation <<<

Image of the Week: Tag yourself I’m an Old Millennial

Some weeks you just need a laff.

At first I thought this meme was just shitposting and silliness. Then I looked closer.

 

Ah yes, pogs.

I will never forget the time that my brother and his friend challenged each other to a six-pack-of-Surge challenge during a Superbowl. (I think they made it to four.) Or the framed Pikachu card I have in my kitchen (yes I’m serious), gifted to me by my brother after he moved on from dominating the Pokemon card came.

Personally, I had a—briefly—a collection of pogs.

My brother is Core Gen Y (he’s younger than me).

I’m Early Gen Y.

I’ve never loved thinking of myself as a Millennial, but I’ve come to terms with it. As a generation, they’re too whiny and short-sighted (at least as described by Boomers) to be something that I wanted to identify myself with. Birth years don’t lie, and no matter how much I hate thinking about myself in that way, my life trajectory is quite Millennial.

The best descriptor I’ve found for myself is “Old Millennial.” There was a time in my life when I didn’t know what the internet was, and I became an adult without owning a cell phone. Most of my childhood was spent reading books or running around in the woods or at ballet class. Growing up, our household was wired—my dad loves computers and we had a lot of PC games—but my first encounter with high-speed internet or AOL messaging was in college. My folks still had dial-up well into my undergraduate days (I would connect to open wifi when I was home for breaks, otherwise my blossoming internet habit tied up the phone line for hours).

Anyway.

I love how memes can convey such depth of truth with such brevity. The best memes refine a complex concept or set of symbols to a very fine point, presented in such an unrefined manner that they demand that your mind do the work of assembling the pieces back together.

That’s why they’re so sticky. The meme only sets the stage.

You still have to do the work.

 

Aesthetic Consistency

This post has been brought to you by my sudden urge to archive everything on my now-defunct Tumblr, with the intention to use on this site because the aesthetic matches.

It’s interesting, growing up on the internet. I didn’t even fully grow up on it—I didn’t do much but hamsterdance.com and chain emails until I left for college—but it’s funny to know that there are different bits and pieces of my life on various social media sites.

A different persona portrayed on each site, as befitted its mechanism and branding. What goes on Facebook is not what goes on Tumblr is not what goes on Instagram is not what goes on Livejournal is not what goes on Twitter is not what went on Myspace.

And so tiny pieces of me are scattered across the internet like horcruxes, if we want to use a Harry Potter reference to honor one of those tiny pieces.

Because of this fragmentation, I’ve always assumed that there are wildly different parts of me in each place, or that different facets of my personality develop different aesthetic styles. The fandom bits that morphed into k-pop. The love of The Lord of the Rings that got distracted by Harry Potter and Game of Thrones. The internet drama precursor to politics.

 

You’d think it would be true. That me in 2013 was so vastly different from me in 2018 that we would like and save different photos and memes.

And in one sense, it is true. I’m a completely different person than I was in 2013. I’m more mature, more sure of what I believe in, and there are a few major issues that I’ve done an about-face on. I’ve grown as a person, and developed new and greater insight into the world.

And yet I have a photo from the exact same photoset saved currently on my phone that I first found in 2015. I follow the same artists on YouTube now that I reblogged in my old Tumblr, without realizing it—because I was drawn to her work.

The medium may change. The frequency may change. The year may change.

But the soul doesn’t.

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