There is no paucity of lecturing “advice” on this site, and at no time is that more obvious than in the wreckage of a devastating political loss.
I consider myself to sit at something of a generational crossroads. I’m a few months shy of 37, born in the early months of 1980. There are silly arguments about exactly where the dividing line between this and that generation lies. Some state that 1980 is firmly outside of the millennial moniker, while others say it is just barely inside it. Some call us the oldest millennials, or the youngest Gen X’ers, or, frankly, neither. A blip of 2 or 3 or 4 years of American births between around ‘78 and ‘82 that don’t fit into the behaviors or experiences of the two “major” generations they’re sandwiched between. I have a colleague at work who’s a little less than 20 years older than me. Born somewhere between 1963-1965, he’s aware that by most brittle generational definitions, he’s either the youngest Boomer or the Oldest Gen Xer. He always says he feels like neither, exhibits none of the supposed defining hallmarks of either group, and considers himself part of a small “lost generation”. Way too young to have any memory of Beatlemania or 60s rock ‘n roll, barely remembering Vietnam as anything other than a kid, but also too damn old to have any idea what “Singles” or “Reality Bites” or Nirvana were talking about. I get it.
In my view, and several of my friends that I grew up with of the same age agree, I have a foot in two worlds. All of my childhood memories are pre-cell phones, pre-internet, and all that comes with it, but by the time I was in high school I had a dial up connection to AOL and Prodigy and certainly used the version of the internet that existed in the mid-to-late 90s. I wrote (actual, handwritten and mailed) letters to girls, but I also sent AOL emails to a girl I couldn’t face discussing my feelings with in person as well. When my friends were gone for the summer, they were gone — I didn’t talk to them until they were back. When I wasn’t home on a Saturday night in time to receive the phone call on my landline of what my friends were up to that night, I simply missed the party and there was nothing that could be done about it — but on the other hand, I could dial up into a chatroom and talk to some stranger with a stupid AOL handle like mediawhore (that’s a real one from my memory banks) who was thousands of miles away. As a music nerd from the age of 13 (in 1993), I own thousands and thousands of CDs, cassettes and records, and have also downloaded thousands upon thousands of digital tracks, and subscribe to a streaming service. When I was in the backend of college between 2000 and 2002 I had my first simple cell phone that I used, exclusively, to call home, and never unplugged or carried with me. Once — exactly ONCE — my college roommate in the second semester of our final year called me (on our shared landline) from his brand new cell phone while walking home from class and I thought he must have been a fucking lunatic. Who talks on a phone while walking down the street, especially when you’re going to be here in 15 minutes?
Nonetheless, by the time I was in my mid-20s or so, the internet was largely what it remains today, and by the time I was in my late 20s, social media and “devices” were in a state, that while probably feeling outdated now, were at least recognizable in form. And the impact such things had on the way we related to each other — how friendships worked, how people felt they were “communicating” with others, how people feel “involved” in social movements, politics, and society in general — were certainly taking shape while I was still in a young demographic.
I’ve seen both versions of the (American, middle class) world while old enough on both sides of the line to form an opinion about it. I clearly recall being more “present” in the offline world — because there was no choice, because the online world that exists now wasn’t ther — and I am relatively comfortable moving communication to text messages, facebook likes, and fuck it, blog posts directed at strangers. From the personal history books, I have saved both handwritten notes given to me and a slew of “personally important emails” from the years that followed.
Being nearly 37, straddling two worlds in this respect, I feel in a position to sort of “get” how people a few years (or more) younger have been shaped by an online world that holds a far larger segment of their adolescent-and-up lives, and how that impacts how they see being involved, being relevant, connecting with people, fighting political battles, and so forth. I “get it” in the way you get something from seeing a 3rd generation photocopy. Not perfectly, a little blurry, and with the eyes of an older person who has never used Snapchat, doesn’t really get what WhatsAp is, and countless other examples of shit I know so little about I can’t even list it as an example of what I don’t know. Conversely, I can also relate somewhat to people a few (or more) years older than me who totally don’t understand this stuff, or even if somewhat “understanding” it, only had the opportunity to incorporate it into their lives as a full blown adult, facebook and AOL instant messaging their high school crush having absolutely no place in their formative memories.
This is a very (very) long-winded introduction to my current frustration, which I’ve had for years as the chip-on-the-ol’-shoulder sort that I am, but which has had the doors blown off by what just happened politically, and a social/political culture, that in my view, has become totally ill equipped to deal with the enemy breaching the gate. I don’t usually use this hyperbole to refer to conservatism, but I use it without hesitation for the pseudo-fascist disaster that just happened under our noses. The fact that this culture is partially responsible for allowing this to happen in the first place is horrific enough, but the fact it looks to continue unabated now that we’re scrambling in our own hearts and as a community to figure out what the fuck to do now is a disaster.
The fact is, what our disconnected internet culture has mistaken for involvement, or help, or fighting back, or resisting, is a bunch of meaningless, immature, infantile horseshit. Full stop. I don’t believe that’s even up for debate. As many cultural commentators have noted with far more articulation than I am capable, if the age of a mode of interaction or communication takes on some of the characteristics of what the age would relate to in human development, the modern version of the internet and the way it has rippled into our “offline” culture is a teenager, and it sure as fuck seems like one too. Let me explain. (No links — that would be hypocritical given the message!) Please consider these things as you are about to press “share”, or “like” or love, or write a clickbait headline, or compose a screed to your internet friends, or feel good about how smart and politically involved you are because you watched a Bill Maher clip via your friend’s facebook wall, a form of “political involvement” that will do absolutely nothing to combat Trumpism in any way.
- No, “this one tweet” did not RIP APART (all caps!) Donald Trump. Tweets don’t do that.
- No, Chrissy Teigen did not DESTROY Trump’s logic in one BRUTAL Instragram post. Chrissy Teigen is a model who wrote a sentence online that restates something that’s already been said a million times and didn't do anything beyond giving some 23 year old employee of Raw Story another bucket full of slop to post about in a business that requires a constant stream of inane “content” to be generated. Instagram posts do not destroy any logic. If what Chrissy Teigen typed into her phone was going to end Trump’s overtake of the organs of American government it would have happened already.
- No, some internet celebrity is not “the hero we’ve all been waiting for” for making fart noises about Mike Pence or whatever form the total drivel we’re mistaking for political resistance is taking in these particular 30 seconds before some other internet celebrity tries to viralize another equally insipid waste of time and energy.
- No, John Oliver’s sarcasm-dripping monologue doesn’t cause the 61 million Trump coalition to crack under it’s own weight. Those people won’t see his sarcasm-dripping monologue, and the sole impact it will have is to make you and your friends watching it feel impotently better for 12 seconds and then do absolutely nothing else. There is an industry of liberal sarcasm porn that didn’t beat Trump and frankly didn’t get Obama elected either. They don’t “help” anything, and I like a dose of sarcasm porn as much as anyone. They just get your asses in the seats to make you feel smart for a few minutes. They are selling you a product the same way Iams sells dog food to dog owners. John Oliver may be a perfectly nice person, and some of his turns of phrase may be perfectly memorable to the already-converted to chortle about amongst themselves, but whether he intends to be or not (which is irrelevant anyway), he is a salesman to a subset of consumers who want to laugh at idiot conservatives and then go back to bed. Why do you think there are about 12 versions of the Daily Show now on several different channels? You’re a market. They know there’s a certain type of Fran-Lebowitz-for-Dummiezz humor we eat up, and Comedy Central and HBO and TBS are going to shovel that shit right down our throats while selling us some Cheerios and blood pressure medication.
- No, that Occupy Democrats gif about having no “fucks left to give” or the Happy Holidays vs. Merry Christmas wars isn’t showing your right wing uncle what’s up. Your right wing uncle is going to vote for Trump again next time and you spent a few precious seconds of your short life reposting a shitty photo that makes a practically useless meme generating company money on your flaccid “involvement”.
- No, wearing a t-shirt that says “I’m Still With Her” or “Hindsight is 2020” is not taking the fight to the streets. T shirts don’t do that.
- No, reposting a Hulu of Alec Baldwin playing Donald Trump isn’t political organizing, nor is your comment about Head-Fascist-in-Charge’s tweet reaction to his portrayal incisive political reporting. Reposting Hulu videos of Alec Baldwin in a wig don’t politically organize. They give Hulu and their advertisers $0.000000000000004 in click profit.
- No, George Takei did not “nail it” with his latest 140 character message. If he “nailed it”, the needle would move in some practical way somewhere. Did it? Or did a person whose opinion you already know and agree with show you for the 30th time today that he has an opinion you already know and agree with? So what now?
- No, Daily Kos, when you post some of your hot sellers on facebook with HuffPo/Buzzfeed styled worthless clickbait intros like “Enough is enough!”, or “WOW. JUST WOW.” or “Awesome.” to accompany a story about a CA politician concocting a new focus-grouped “resistance” slogan that everyone reading this already knows isn’t going to do anything isn’t political engagement. This does nothing but generate web traffic. IT DOES NOTHING.
I assume there are mostly adults operating around here. What the fuck are we talking about? Did you see what just happened? Did any of this brain dead, helpless, useless, sitting at your computer, sarcastic comments do a fucking thing? You were already doing all that on November 7th. After taking a “mourning break” from social media until around November 11th, and heading right back into the same behaviors, do you think they’re going to do something NOW? Wake up, for fuck’s sake. We can’t afford to engage like lazy children. Did you see what just happened? Did you SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
This lecture is directed at myself as much as any other person. I don’t know if I’m talking to the specific YOU, reading this. Only you know if I’m talking to “the specific you” because — internet culture newsflash — I have no fucking idea who you are or what you do with your time, and you don’t know me, and we aren't connecting, and nothing is happening at all right now as you read the waste of time I just clicked on my keyboard that has any substance to it whatsoever. I appreciate the pathetic irony of saying all this under a moniker as a blog on a website of people who largely share my political outlook.
Fake involvement on the internet — sharing orchestrated-to-be-viral clips from Oliver and Samantha Bee and the Young Turks, posting memes, “can I get 5 thousand likes for Michelle Obama?” — is the prelude (or postscript, as it may be) to our fucking doom.
There’s a line that ends a punk song that I loved as a teenager that feels right for the moment (and quoting song lyrics doesn’t do anything to help anything either, by the way):
“So they keep us occupied with moron fucking TV shows and shitty beer that wipes out brain cells and whining about Congress and stupid fucking income taxes. And if that's not enough to keep your mind off of the way you’re getting dicked around, they fill you with fear and hate and give you someone to blame for all your problems: why’s the country going down the fucking toilet? Do you know what they think of you? Do you know how contemptuous they are of you? Do you know how easy you are to fool? You’re like a dog going after a bone that was never thrown. Well guess what: you’re on your own. Good luck.”
On that note, I’ll add one more bullet point:
- No, “tip jarring” or sharing this missive is not fighting the good fight. Neither is railing against it. Get the fuck off the meme generator and do something, for fuck’s fucking sake.
My first diary on this thing in 5 years. Now to get back to the world and see what the hell I can do in Trump’s America, if it isn’t too goddamn late already. I have no one but myself to blame.