inherent vice (again) (P.T. Anderson, 2014)
No, it isn't. That's an ancient Hindu symbol meaning 'all is well.' It brings good fortune, luck, and well-being. Perhaps you should pay no attention to that man.
Marmite is a British food spread made from yeast extract. Australasia has a similar product known as Vegemite. Both are dark, sticky, and usually eaten on either bread or toast, spread very thinly, and often enjoyed with a large amount of butter or margarine. To a British person, any British person, Marmite creates a division: either you love it, or you hate it. And a while ago Marmite decided to lean into this divisive opinion of the product and own it as a hallmark of what Marmite is. The lovers love, the haters hate - and an ongoing discussion is born.
But you know what? I'm tired of A or B.
This is not to say that I'm tired of Marmite. I like Marmite. And if you hate it then good luck to you. You do you. But notice that what I said is that I 'like' Marmite. Sometimes I feel in the mood for Marmite, and at others I don't. My feelings about this yeast extract spread are more varied than being either 'love' or 'hate.'
So my question today is this: when did everything boil down to two camps? When did all the grey area in-between get lost? When did our only options become A or B? And when did we ever fall into line so strongly about following our assigned roles? Why are we willfully playing out these reductive roles with such fervour - either for or against?
Because it seems to me that you've all been fed a lie.
You don't need to love or hate Beyonce, or Marvel, or Disney, or The Turner Prize, or a day at the beach, or Marmite, or sunshine. You're allowed to have feelings which lie on a spectrum. You're allowed to casually like things, or have grey indifference towards things. It's not required for you to hysterically scream in favour of or against something. But this is what you're all doing, all the time.
Maybe it's the fact that everyone has a platform now where they're encouraged to give their opinions and/or feelings about things.
Maybe it's the fact that people can use these platforms completely divorced from who they are in real life. People can say things on one platform which don't interact with their lives irl.
Maybe it's the fact that this detachment from who they are encourages them to be 'louder' than they would be irl. Or encourages them to say things they would never dare to say irl.
I don't know.
And neither does anyone else.
Human civilisation is long, and no one has ever known where we were going or how things were going to play out. We like to think we have, but it's simply not true. Things play out in a confusing mess, and then later on we look back at it all and make narratological and causative sense of everything. That's how it's always been. This is not to say that you shouldn't ask yourself where you and everyone else is going - you should. But where we're going is plural - it's not two options - it's an infinite number of options - matching the infinite range of opinions and feelings that we all have. Think of that Joan Didion line: We tell ourselves stories in order to live. Think of Joan's disparate images of a white dress, spoiled by red wine spilled by Polanski, and of handing the same dress to Linda Kasabian. Think of how there is no meaning connected to any of this, no matter how seductive it is to think that there is.
The next time you're in an environment where people are barking one of two opinions (and let's face it, that's probably happening to you right now, wherever you are) take a breath - and say 'C.' And then when people ask you for more information give them 'D' followed by 'E.' And then just keep going. Keep creating new options, new opinions, new choices. Don't be proud to over simplify something inherently complex. Be better than the reductive division of two choices. Be better than 'two.' Be proud to be smart. Life is dizzying and confusing and that's all it will ever be and that's fine. And perhaps it feels like there is a secret organisation controlling everything just out of the corner of your field of vision, manipulating a narrative that is designed to play out to one particular conclusion from the safety of a schooner anchored a little way out, but entertain the notion that perhaps it's something else, like, oh... I dunno... a bunch of dentists or something.
Marmite is a British food spread made from yeast extract. Australasia has a similar product known as Vegemite. Both are dark, sticky, and usually eaten on either bread or toast, spread very thinly, and often enjoyed with a large amount of butter or margarine. To a British person, any British person, Marmite creates a division: either you love it, or you hate it. And a while ago Marmite decided to lean into this divisive opinion of the product and own it as a hallmark of what Marmite is. The lovers love, the haters hate - and an ongoing discussion is born.
But you know what? I'm tired of A or B.
This is not to say that I'm tired of Marmite. I like Marmite. And if you hate it then good luck to you. You do you. But notice that what I said is that I 'like' Marmite. Sometimes I feel in the mood for Marmite, and at others I don't. My feelings about this yeast extract spread are more varied than being either 'love' or 'hate.'
So my question today is this: when did everything boil down to two camps? When did all the grey area in-between get lost? When did our only options become A or B? And when did we ever fall into line so strongly about following our assigned roles? Why are we willfully playing out these reductive roles with such fervour - either for or against?
Because it seems to me that you've all been fed a lie.
You don't need to love or hate Beyonce, or Marvel, or Disney, or The Turner Prize, or a day at the beach, or Marmite, or sunshine. You're allowed to have feelings which lie on a spectrum. You're allowed to casually like things, or have grey indifference towards things. It's not required for you to hysterically scream in favour of or against something. But this is what you're all doing, all the time.
Maybe it's the fact that everyone has a platform now where they're encouraged to give their opinions and/or feelings about things.
Maybe it's the fact that people can use these platforms completely divorced from who they are in real life. People can say things on one platform which don't interact with their lives irl.
Maybe it's the fact that this detachment from who they are encourages them to be 'louder' than they would be irl. Or encourages them to say things they would never dare to say irl.
I don't know.
And neither does anyone else.
Human civilisation is long, and no one has ever known where we were going or how things were going to play out. We like to think we have, but it's simply not true. Things play out in a confusing mess, and then later on we look back at it all and make narratological and causative sense of everything. That's how it's always been. This is not to say that you shouldn't ask yourself where you and everyone else is going - you should. But where we're going is plural - it's not two options - it's an infinite number of options - matching the infinite range of opinions and feelings that we all have. Think of that Joan Didion line: We tell ourselves stories in order to live. Think of Joan's disparate images of a white dress, spoiled by red wine spilled by Polanski, and of handing the same dress to Linda Kasabian. Think of how there is no meaning connected to any of this, no matter how seductive it is to think that there is.
The next time you're in an environment where people are barking one of two opinions (and let's face it, that's probably happening to you right now, wherever you are) take a breath - and say 'C.' And then when people ask you for more information give them 'D' followed by 'E.' And then just keep going. Keep creating new options, new opinions, new choices. Don't be proud to over simplify something inherently complex. Be better than the reductive division of two choices. Be better than 'two.' Be proud to be smart. Life is dizzying and confusing and that's all it will ever be and that's fine. And perhaps it feels like there is a secret organisation controlling everything just out of the corner of your field of vision, manipulating a narrative that is designed to play out to one particular conclusion from the safety of a schooner anchored a little way out, but entertain the notion that perhaps it's something else, like, oh... I dunno... a bunch of dentists or something.