The Democracy Of Din

"Contratimes will continue, I believe, but its days of political commentary are over. ... The only time I will write of such things (i.e., political, economic, etc.) is if I believe they speak to our dangerous habit of idolatry." -- BG

Walking into a bookstore often gives me a headache, especially if I actually walk into it. Ouch. I should really look up.

My pain is generally the result of too many stimuli, of information overload. There is so much crying out for attention in a bookstore; there is hardly a book section that is silent. Over there are the Narcissists: Read about me! Along the brick wall are the Alarmists: All hell is imminent! By the side window one finds the Sensualists and the Aesthetes catalogued in the Boasters section: Look at what we love, so beautiful! On this table one finds the Soothers -- We are at peace! -- tucked in with the Comforters -- We know peace and success and we can give them to you! On the back wall is a large section of Namers and Solvers of Problems: We have answers! Near the café one finds the Deeply Reflective and Trenchantly Analytical: We just know! Not too far away one finds the Peregrinators, all telling me where they've been, with some even telling me where to go. In the middle one finds shelves covered with books written by Epicureans filled with good taste: Check out our palates! Adjacent are the Luxuriant bidding me to look between -- and beneath -- their covers; and to the right, the Exalted: Check out my palace!

Near the lavatory wall one finds Exterior Decorators shouting that an outside makeover can revive your insides; while the Interior Decorators insist, at least some of them, that if you feel good about your insides, your outsides will shine too (and even a few Really Good Interiorists denounce the outsides as so much sexist vanity). Near the red couches one hears the clatter emanating from racks full of the Analgesics, Depressants and Stimulants, all promising escapes and romps and fantasies and dramas and adventures, and sundry tours de force: We won't waste your precious time; we'll take you away from the dulness of your life! 

It's no wonder I get a headache.

And the same goes for TV, newspapers, the internet; blogging. My headaches come from all the shouting, beckoning, pleading: Give us your attention! Achtung!

I wonder, really, if it is ultimately a good thing there is a "new media." The term, of course, is misleading: the newness refers not to the quality of media but the quantity. There have never been so many voices and so many vendors seeking attention, dispensing "information."

What happens, do you think, when we can't really get away, not just from the Culture of Dissemination and Marketing and Opinion and News, but from the Culture of Consuming? I know that if I hear somewhere that X is the rage, and that, upon further inquiry I learn to like X; and that if, in liking X, I begin to note that everywhere I turn X, or some X spinoff or derivative,  is being discussed, analyzed and prodded to death; and if I notice that from TV to blogs to books to comedy routines to art to music to conversations on the street and arguments at a dinner party X in all its forms is inescapable, I discover I not only hate X, I pretty much hate everybody else too. I get sick of X, and, in the process, I get sick of everything associated with X: electronic media, books, dinner parties, concerts, newspapers.

Satiety is often a dangerous, vile thing. It seems that if one wanted to rule the world the best thing to happen would be the creation of MANY VOICES, of a TRULY DEMOCRATIC MEDIUM, like the "new media." For where there are many voices, there is cacophony, chaos. The New Democratic Medium begets tedium, and tedium leads to satiety, fatigue, indifference; to ennui. Everything is lost in the din of either/or, of this or that; in an endless flow of example, counterexample; in a ceaseless rhythm of "exceptions." Some people can withstand this onslaught and are immune to its effects. They exalt in chatter, gossip, opinion; the sowing of "clarity" and discord. They adore the political idols; for many the political is their idol. But others are not so stalwart. They crumble or wither, or just get distended and bloated and bent out of shape, sated to the point of discomfort, even sleep. They've had too much. They actively consume themselves into passivity, requiring that they lie down, take a nap. 

It may not be the suppression of voices that ruins the world, that leads to tyranny. It may be this exalted and celebrated plethora of voices that results in most voices shutting down. Let everyone speak at once in order to silence as many voices as possible: Let's give them a headache so that they may walk away. 

Let's give them more than they can handle. Perhaps that way they will let us handle even more.

Peace.

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