36 Hours/Thursday in Review (cont.)/A Question

( For the last thirty-six hours I’ve endured a sequence of caustic, implosive stomach pangs. it’s delightful. believe me that soured cafe au lait helped things. In other news, it is piercingly chilly. The seasons have changed, the clocks have fallen back. It is nice to be home. It’s almost never been so nice to ‘be’ home.)

Anyway, I left my own panel (on the ninth floor of l’hotel) for a tinier one in the basement. It was entitled “Strategies for Revolutionary Politics,” which was preposterous/earnest enough to merit my attention. The chair gave the first paper, which was a lengthy critique to the ‘deliberative’ and ‘agonal’ democratic theories of Habermas and Mouffe. The paper called for ‘fanaticism’ from the Left – political interventions that were a sort of spontaneous, anti-Enlightenment ‘other’ to democratic practice. Did I mention he was wearing a skull + bones t-shirt, and said ‘shit’ and ‘bullshit’ a lot, in effort to conjure some sort of ‘outlaw academic’ status? He might as well’ve been wearing a fucking stars n’ bars doo rag. Actually, I guess we all know that’d be a lot cooler, non?

Then came a paper about – you guessed it – pirates. A pretty credible historian wrote a perfectly thorough historical political economy of piracy, and somehow found himself misplaced on this panel.

Afterwards, a Polish phycist arose, bearing a unified, reiterable theory of revolutionary cycles. A PowerPoint ensued, during which he showed us a lot of polychrome charts. He had it all figured out.

Then a very big badass professor – who I later found out is very active in Britain’s Socialist Workers’ Party, which is a pedigree of sorts, sorta -arose to give a paper about “marxism” and “social movements.’ Early in the paper, when it came time for the prof to define his terms, he surprised the audience by saying that it was necessary to define ‘marxism.’ He did so in terms he associates with Lukacs; he maintained that marxism was above all defined by its belief in the historical, revolutionary primacy of the working class.

Now obviously, we all think of class – particulary the proletariat – when we think of marxism. But really, would you cite this (very teleological) kernel as the essential first principle of marxism? I would really like to hear people’s opinions on this, whether they feel qualified to give them or not.

For my part, I think the labor theory of value is at least definitive of the marxist analytic as the evolutionism. Do you usually think of marxism as a political practice or an analytic? Or maybe as a style? Obviously, the professor’s rhetorical flourish was meant to spur academic elites back into the gaudy arena of the ‘hegemonic struggle.’

Myself, I dunno. At a very general level, I would say that ‘marxism’ resounds most intimately within me in its insistence on the place of contradictions and antagonisms in socializing society, and its ideological agnosticism. On an even more general level, the fuck the bosses/fuck shit up/fuck you ethos of Marx’s writing is so much more than punk that I needn’t speak its name. On an even nore general level, the idea of mass, collective acts of democratic-public production/consumption (aka, socialist culture) would be the best shit ever. Such mass acts exist today, but only in the weird, glossy forms afforded by the minority in power. It’d be cool if we had a bigger playbook, is all I’m saying.

The archetypal prisonship is the Love Boat. Ahoy. Anyway, what do you people think marxism is?

Matador Mogul, Basic Instinct Diva, LA Laker

Prisonship Seven-Inch Series vol 9

Blackleg b/w The Bombardier

Largely unknown, Abilene’s self-titled (on Slowdime, distributed by Dischord) epitomizes the marriage of downbeat aesthetics and intelligent stop-start antics that to me represent one of the high points in American heavy music. This belongs with yr June of 44, Fugazi and Slint records fo sho. These songs take their time unfolding, and make their way to really natural conclusions. And the bass playing – Jesus!

When Cafe au Laits Go Wrong…

they go sour. It’s pretty much just curdled milk.

Prisonship Imaginary Seven-Inch Series vol. 8

Fugazi, Guilford Hall b/w Pink Frosty

More moodiness, from the way, way underrated End Hits album. “Pink Frosty” is amazingly Slint-damaged, but takes on a different character due to the McKaye-isms. Guy Piccotto sits with Mark E. Smith and Lydon in the ultimate punk rock vocalist throne room. Wouldn’t it be awesome if all those guys died and were left to hang out in a throne room?

Imaginary Seven-Inch Series vol 7

Shipping News, The Architect in Hell b/w Cock-a-Doodle-Doo

The definitive heavy bands of the late 1990s were Fugazi, Shipping News and Unwound. They all play what I believe to be just about the moodiest music ever. Just like Slint, I couldn’t tell you if I love them because their music matches my view of the world, or if I endlessly aspire to live a life that fits their music. Whatever. “Architect” is as close to a catchy thing as they’ve ever gotten; the other one’s just the best shit, period. Unbelievable bass/drum relations in this band. I’ve seen it live twice, and I still don’t believe it.

Crap/Not Crap:

Eurocommunism.

I could see myself being into this back in the day. It suits my ‘reformist’ tendencies (really – all the way back to the Second International) and my belief that part of seizing the means of production means appropriating liberal democracy towards socialist ends. Or ‘putting liberal democracy right-side up,’ to borrow from Marx’s inversion of Hegel.

Thurdsay Reviewed at CT, AZ airparks

So Thursday I picked up a Hyundai Sonata, practiced my talk and broke for Amherst. U-Mass Amherst is a big old concrete farm. The Conference took place in the Student Union center which conveniently doubles as a hotel. The main floors smell strongly of whatever the lowest-grade cooking grease is – the one they use in institutions, y’know.

Anyway, some immediate, impersonal observations. I’d say the Conference was about 60%-40% men (I’ve seen a lot worse), but all its honchoes and impressarios were middle-aged dudes. I put names to faces immediately, noting the omnipresence of a hairstyle I’ll call ‘the Dirlik.’ Apparently marxists d’un certain age supplement their encroaching baldness by maintaining hair that goes below the collar in back. Oh, isn’t it wild!

Lotta hot marxist boys from across the drink with predistressed jeans and those fucking sneaker-shoes. I’m officially, semi-seriously calling these horrors out as mebbe almost worse than mandals: they’re too easy, and when I see a buncha cats and chicks hanging out in ’em I feel like the world’s about to turn sepia tone and the medicine ball’s about to come out. Anyway, there were a lot of smart young people interested in a still-pretty-orthodox-despite-all marxist journal. I was surprised/pleased/appalled.

I’m pretty shallow for this early in the morning. ‘Best turn this inward. I whiffed on dress, myself. It was a beautiful follow-up to the AFL-CIO Conference in Ithaca, where I went all ‘t-shirts and jeans’ (I almost never go all ‘t-shirts and jeans’) and everybody else was rocking the oxfords and shit. This time I rolled the tweeds and my new, creased fucking low-grade Sewanee prof shoit, and all the famous and infamous marxistes were rolling ratty turtleneck sweaters. I should just dress like me, but I don’t currently know what that means. Actually, I guess the chafe-heavy wranglers and collared sports shirts woulda been fine. Always, courage of convictions and self-doubt manifest themselves inexactly.

Anyway my panel was a farce, kinda. Titled ‘the Other Side of Globalization’ in an effort to foist some sort of unifying thread upon disparate papers ill-suited for such things, we attracted maybe a dozen people. The first paper was given by an adjunct anthropologist from William Paterson (in Joizee). It was a pretty amazing, polemical survey of the literature on class/caste in India. He made a point I’ve only heard my advisor make, that the ‘culture’ implied and ‘preserved’ by multiculturalism smacks of the anthropological culture concept of at least 30 years ago, with all its essentialism and abstraction. His conclusion was that the current ethnicization of caste was at least as bad as marxists trying to reduce caste to class. Amen, dude.

Then came the driest paper in human history, from a Poli Sci grad out of Purdue. Marx apparently wasn’t implicated in the colonial, racist ethos of his time. Actually, he was probably never wrong about anything ever. Having actually read the “pre-Capitalist Economic Manuscripts” and blathered about the Asiatic Mode of Production on comp #1, I nonetheless was hardly about to call bullshit. The first guy actually got her pretty good in the q + a period, though.

(Now I’m in the Phoenix aeroport, trying to stay ahead of Pizza Hut Express and its Siren cry of ‘Breadsticks, Breadsticks – and tomato sauce to dip ’em in!” What an interpellator that shit is. I is surviving on crudite like cashews and cheezits and such.)

Anyway the talk after the Asiatic Mode apologist was given by a young political science grad from the Univ. of Washington – “You-Dub,” if you like. It was pretty hot, soitanly way too much for the true believers in l’audience. She kinda tried to tread btw. the Human Rights (universalist) and Relativist (post-struc, mostly) takes on Human Rights. Her critique of the latter was particularly smart. But I kept wondering where Agamben was in such a conversation, seeing how he usually finds himself inserted into discourses that are way less germane. For what it’s worth, I think the coolest kind of “sovereignty/law/discursive constitution of life” essay is Achille Mbembe’s “Necropolitics.”

My paper hinged on what I thought to be a clever inversion. My paper recounted my experiences in Guadeloupe, and my experiences with Trotskyism there and here, towards the end of arguing that Trotskyism best be understood as a kind of identity politics. This was supposed to be a kind of fable, suggesting we should begin talking about the politics of work and workers in our political theory again, despite (because!) of the fact that we’ve discarded the universality of something called ‘class.’ Half the people in the room didn’t understand me or thought I was denigrating the Trots (cuz, shit, having an organizing discourse around identity is obviously a show of weakness!); the other half kinda clammored to be in on what they assumed had to be some sort of joke. A couple of Old Left Johnsons thought I didn’t understand how important Trotskyism was to the intellectual history of Western Marxism; at least, I thought that was there complaint until I realized they just wanted to talk about the rad shit that went down in 1965. Anyway, it was made clear to me that my point (or at least my Boatzone2 delivery thereof) wasn’t right for that content. Everybody’d’ve liked it more if I’d thrown more ethnographic porn at them  (‘look at the colorful garb on this nonetheless politically modern Third World marxist!’) and theorized less. This was particularly true because, not unlike the Human Rights talk before me, mine employed theory (Laclau + Mouffe) that still seemed to more of the up-the-middle marxians as untested and suspicious.

The first panel I attended was a big panel. I’ll describe it next time. I have a lot of unpacking to do after this thing. It raised a lot of shit within me.

Hey Sewanee

Has anybody seen Big Axe Jack (aka “the Dark Wizard”) of late? This looks like Jim’s Greenwich Village Trotskyist, hanging out with what would become the New York School, 1938 incarnation. 

Wilber, check and make sure he don’t have a job at the Cedar Bar, y’know?

Trevor Berbick, Heavyweight Champ