10 Jun 2026

Notes on Mark Fisher's Flatline Constructs (2025): Chapter Two

(Zer0 Books, 2025) [a] 
Cover design by Rebecca Wright / charcoalstudio.co.uk 
Reimagined by Stephen Alexander (2026)
 
'Body Image Fading Down Corridors of Television Sky ...'
 
 
I. 
 
Fisher tells us that chapter two of Flatline Constructs opposes a cyberpunk concept of the body - i.e., one sans organes - to the body as encountered in traditional works of science fiction which are complicit in the false idea that technology is simply an extension of the flesh [b]. 
 
He writes:
 
"Gothic Materialism understands cyberpunk not as the dialectical fusion of Horror and Science Fiction, but as the materialist critique of Science Fiction from hypernaturalist horror. What is at stake is a - new - account of the body, abstract, cybernetic and denaturalised." (84)
 
Fisher continues:
 
"Ironically, given all the discourse of disembodiment that often surrounds the technical apparatus with which cyberpunk texts have typically been obsessed - virtual reality machines, simulators, cyberspace decks - cyberpunk constitutes an earthing of Science Fiction's 'traditional' ideal, or non-physical body. But the outlines of the body it emphasises are not defined by the limits of the organism." (84-85)  
 
In order to illustrate his point, he analyses two works that have posed a challenge to old school sci-fi: David Cronenberg's Videodrome (1983) and J. G. Ballard's The Atrocity Exhibition (1970) - a novel which Fisher prefers over Ballard's better-known text, Crash, published three years later. 
 
For Fisher, Ballard in particular points the way to the key Gothic Materialist idea of anorganic continua.  
 
 
II.  
 
I can't remember who said it - or if I'm remembering it accurately - but a book of quotations once introduced me to the idea that nothing is more tiresome than being assaulted by old ideas conquered long ago
 
Unfortunately, that is exactly how I feel when confronted with the Body without Organs (or even the body without image). It belongs to a lost era of decoded flows and the schizo-implosion of subjectivity. Does anyone still think in these terms today? 
 
The fact is, it has been thirty years since Mark Fisher began his thesis, over fifty since Deleuze and Guattari borrowed the BwO from Artaud to critique capitalism, and eighty since Artaud himself decided to have done with the judgment of God.

Granted, theoretical concepts mutate; the BwO can be recontextualised to map algorithmic data streams or track how large language models unfold beyond human organisation. But Deleuze-Guattarian studies are now so heavily institutionalised that one can hardly bear to hear about the BwO, or planes of immanence, or becoming this, that, or the other.
 
When these concepts exploded in the 1990s via the CCRU (Cybernetic Culture Research Unit), they were genuinely radical and capable of destabilising old and orthodox ways of thinking. But today, a schizoanalytic philosophy designed to evade capture has been completely assimilated, reducing the BwO to just another tedious topic for endless discussion in peer-reviewed journals by academics who still think it's a metaphor. 
   
 
III. 

Apologies, dear reader, for this slight digression. But I felt I had to say something and say it in the main body of the post for fear it may be overlooked if consigned to the notes. Having said it, we can now return to Fisher's book ...
 
Horror, says Fisher, is not simply horrifying and horrific, it is also kind of sexy and Gothic Materialism "apprehends horror not merely negatively but also as [...] an abstract erotics whose programme is the opening up of the organism into desiring-circuits: the production of what Cronenberg calls 'New Flesh'" (79). 
 
Thus, the BwO is both terrifying and desirable. It is also without an image; you can represent the organism, but not the body and its potential, "which is always abstract and unknowable" (80). 
 
That is to say, nobody knows what a body can do - and nobody knows what a body looks like; least of all those staring at pornographic images, a point made powerfully by D. H. Lawrence who condemns porn as a self-conscious "flaunting of the body in its non-physical, merely optical aspect" [c].
 
Fisher, I'm told, did not like Lawrence - despite the fact that Lawrence was, according to Deleuze, one of the four great heirs to Spinoza [d]. And that's a pity, because Lawrence was attacking the organism (or what he termed the corpse-body) and seeking ways to free the body from its automatic reactions, long before Artaud.
 
The key point, however - on which I think all are agreed - is that the body is not a container of mind or spirit; the organism, however, is the container of the flesh (what we might term a body bag). It is thus never a question of liberating the subject from their body, no matter what certain idealists and religious teachers think, but of exploring the body as a site of depersonalised potential
 
 
IV.
 
Section 2.5 of Flatline Constructs is about something that some commentators - such as Steven Connor, for example - regard as modern man's most human aspect and the subject of endless fascination among many well-known critical and cultural theorists: skin [e].
 
Fisher, however, is interested in how technology essentially flays mankind; that is to say, transforms the body into an open, mediatised circuit by eliminating the boundary once formed by skin, thereby dissolving still further the idea of interiority and allowing human consciousness to circulate within digital networks.  
 
In fact, he seems more than merely interested in this; seems to be positively in favour of such an epidermal crisis and to delight in the fact that "the skin is no longer a secure marker of organic integrity" (88) and that man, in an age of cybernetic hyperconnectivity, is no longer self-contained.
 
For Fisher, as a Gothic Materialist, being skinned alive or, essentially, turned inside out (everted)is not a horrific trauma to be avoided, but to be welcomed. However, whilst I understand where he's coming from, I do have certain reservations. 
 
Indeed, if we follow Deleuze and Guattari's actual instructions for constructing a BwO, they explicitly warn against this kind of wild, unprecautious destratification [f]. To violently blow apart the strata and fling oneself into digital networks risks producing not a site of joyous potential, but a suicidal collapse.
 
Perhaps Lawrence is right after all, and the secret to achieving what the Greeks termed εὐδαιμονία is "remaining inside your own skin, and living inside your own skin, and not pretending you're any bigger than you are" [g].
 
 
V. 

Sometimes, when reading Fisher back in his CCRU days and under the sway of Nick Land, I come over a bit Bill Grundyish and feel like putting to him the question that the latter put to the Sex Pistols back on that fateful day in December 1976: Are you serious, or are you just trying to make me laugh? [h]
 
Actually, I suspect despite a certain dark humour, Fisher was being (un)deadly serious in Flatline Constructs and not just looking to provoke or outrage his examiners. In fact, there are times when Fisher is a little overearnest for my tastes. Nevertheless, he does write some immensely interesting stuff - including the material on numbness, narcissism and schizophrenia in section 2.6.
 
Referencing the work of, among others, McLuhan and Baudrillard, Fisher examines how alienation gives way to integration; i.e., man's becoming one with his own circuits, networks, and screens and how this results in the loss of both public and private spaces: "'The one is no longer a spectacle, the other is no longer private'", as Baudrillard says (quoted here on p. 93). 
 
That has many consequences, including the fact that there is now nowhere to hide; hence the obscenity of pornified postmodern culture and the move from narcissism to schizophrenia - for what's unfolding is no longer about self-love, but, rather, the "inability to distinguish self from other" (94) or from the digital environment. 
 
Fisher writes:
 
"The concern, in postmodern theory, with schizophrenia, is, in large part, a registering of this cybernetic account of subjectivity, a sense that the self can no longer be properly distinguished from the multiplicity of circuits that traverse it." (95)
 
It's all too much: we are literally overwhelmed (which was always likely to be the outcome of shedding our skin); the schizophrenic experience can be defined (philosophically, rather than clinically) as "a surfeit, rather than a paucity, of reality" (96). On this, Baudrillard is in complete agreement with Deleuze and Guattari. 
 
If you thought simulation was the only thing you had to worry about, think again; overstimulation is at least as great an issue. And William Gibson even coins the handy term simstim to describe what underlies all the latest technological innovations. 
 
Today, our perception has been decoded into a set of triggerable stimulations capable of simulating any possible experience, and this "simulation of particular affective states by direct neuronic stimulation" (98) is one of the great themes of cyberpunk fiction and cinema (it's central, of course, to Cronenberg's Videodrome).   
   
Fisher concludes:
 
"Hence the relation between the human organism and its technical environment becomes understood not any longer in terms of organic extensions, but of dependence-circuitries." (99)
 
We are hooked to (and on) our machines and the stimuli they supply [i].   

 
VI.
 
When Cronenberg's Videodrome was released in UK cinemas in November 1983, it was given an 18 certificate by the British Board of Film Classification as it contained scenes of strong sex and violence. As Fisher would have only been fifteen at the time, I doubt he saw it until some time later [j]. 
 
I went with my on-off girlfriend Gillian Hall to see the film in March of the following year, at the ABC in Leeds city centre (£2.30 for admission). Gillian was much more a fan of body horror than me and I suspect I only went along because Debbie Harry (as kinky therapist Nicki Brand) featured in a number of nude scenes.   
 
Anyway, I was not impressed: 
 
The film - despite rave reviews and some amusing special effects - was shit. Neither one thing nor another; not quite a psychosexual thriller; not quite a sci-fi horror story. Just a lot of stuff and nonsense. [k]   
  
Fisher, however, LOVES the film:
 
"Cronenberg's Videodrome has achieved its 'canonic' status because of its almost emblematic staging of the convergence of cybernetic and Gothic themes [...] as it passes across the so-called animate and inanimate [...] making the distinction between organic and inorganic increasingly untenable. In particular, it focuses on media - especially the so-called postmodern media of TV and video, and the still nascent technologies of Virtual Reality - as assemblages which reconfigure the body in new ways, opening it up to desiring-trajectories that have as their corollary a new - cybernetic - account of power." (100)
 
Videodrome, says Fisher, perfectly illustrates what happens when a body is not extended by technology, but invaginated and "literally overwhelmed by an unimaginable quantity of stimuli" (100).   
 
I suppose that's a rather more insightful - certainly more receptive - commentary than mine (to be fair, I was writing in a diary having just turned twenty-one and not in a doctoral thesis approaching thirty - although, having said that, I was completing a degree in sociology and media, so might have been expected to say something a bit more than this).  
 
 
VII. 
 
Still discussing Videodrome, Fisher argues that what makes the film "fit so closely with Baudrillard's theorisations" (101) is the fact that it emphasises the tactile over the optical and reveals the world of communications technology to be all about obscene closeness
 
Ultimately, nothing is more unheimlich than a TV set; "a disturbing presence in the heart of the domestic scene" (106). You think you're watching it, but actually it's ravishing your very being; you think the set is plugged into the wall, but actually it's you who's plugged in to the network.
 
Desire is captured by images and the body is "slaved into idiotic compulsive-repetitive behaviours" (109-110) by the triggering of these images - which could, of course, serve as the very definition of pornography. It's "a cybernetic (re)engineering of the body, rather than a simple matter of optical stimulation" (111).
 
 
VIII. 
 
As I said in an earlier post in this series on Flatline Constructs, I'm not a fan of William Burroughs - but I do like Ballard and so was interested to see what Fisher had to say about the latter in relation to his Gothic Materialism ...
 
In sum, he positions Ballard's The Atrocity Exhibition (1970) as a foundational, hypernaturalist precursor to cyberpunk that demonstrates how modern technology and human 'psychology' collapse into a singular cybernetic system and how life today unfolds in a media landscape whose violent images act directly upon the nervous system, causing a schizophrenic loss of agency. 
 
If that sounds traumatic, it's because it is traumatic. But - and this is important - Ballard generalises the concept: "Rather than treating trauma as something with which the organism is affected only contingently, Ballard implies that trauma is a general condition [...] across a culture [...]" (120-121), propagated by media. 
 
Trauma, in other words, is now the "very mode of experience itself" (122) and Ballard seems happy to "hunt out and obsessively pore over trauma" (126).  
 
 
IX. 
 
Fisher also shows how Ballard's novel also illustrates his notion of the Gothic flatline; a plane of immanence cutting across vitalism and mechanism. Ballard is highly skilled at, on the one hand, treating human bodies with a cold, geometric objecthood, whilst, on the other hand, allowing inanimate things such as billboards and motor cars to possess strange, intensive agencies. 
 
Drawing a lineage that connects Ballard to his favourite theorists, Fisher notes that The Atrocity Exhibition captures our overstimulated era. However, unlike Baudrillard - whom Fisher criticises for a loss of nerve and a fall into neo-primitivism and nostalgia - Fisher argues that Ballard dares to fully embrace the world as a dynamic - but flat - landscape in which it is impossible to distinguish figures from background.  
 
Ballard's fictions - "anti-organcist and cybernetic" (115) - basically serve as instruction manuals for decoding this spinal landscape [l]. And The Atrocity Exhibition in particular offers the "most sustained theory-fictional account of contemporary media culture in terms of the spinal landscape" (118). It's thus a radically new type of work - Science Fiction without any of the usual tropes or clichés of SF.   
 
It's also a new type of work which, like Videodrome, displaces bio-sexuality: "The novel performs a decoding of sex into a matter of stimuli that are not themselves sexual [...]" (127). Baudrillard, writing of Crash, will speak of a "deterritorialised and disorganicised eroticism; a cyberotics" (127). 
 
Fisher explains: this is not a matter of "simply substituting technical machines for biological sexual objects, but of decoding sexuality into a matter of abstract stimulus" (127), nor of "selling commodities by associating them with sex" (127). It is, rather, a question of a "generalised libidinisation in which bio-sex is no longer the privileged referent" (127).          
  
Writing in The Atrocity Exhibition, Ballard obliges us to ask: "' in what way is intercourse per vagina more stimulating than with this ashtray, say, or with the angle between two walls'" (quoted by Fisher on p. 127). Farewell and fuck off to all those old-school erogeneous zones, says Baudrillard with a laugh, whilst Fisher closes his chapter on a rather more serious note concerning the deterritorialisation of sexuality and the emergence of new desires
   
"One could theorise these either as a hypersexuality - a sexuality that has escaped genital, even biotic reference, or as a post- or anti-sexuality - desires that it no longer makes any sense to describe in sexual terms." (128)   
 
Fisher's following chapter in Flatline Constructs (chapter three), is not so much concerned with cyberotics, however, but with the question of how on earth do bodies without sexual organs reproduce themselves ...
 
 
Notes
 
[a] All page numbers given in the post refer to this edition of Flatline Constructs.   
 
[b] This is an idea Fisher traces back to Freud, who famously says that with every tool, "man is perfecting his own organs [...] or removing the limits to their functioning'" (87).  
 
[c] D. H. Lawrence, 'Men Must Work and Women as Well', in Late Essays and Articles, ed. James T. Boulton (Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 282. 
      According to Lawrence, the less individuals receive and transmit the flow of desire, the more desperately do they expose their flesh and obsess over their body image. However, in or out of her knickers makes very little difference to the desirability of the modern woman, says Lawrence, because she's "an assertive conscious entity, cut off like a doll from any mystery. And her nudity is as interesting as a doll's." See '...... Love Was Once a Little Boy', in Reflections on the Death of a Porcupine and Other Essays, ed. Michael Herbert (Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 346. 
      I explore all this in Outside the Gate (University of Warwick, 2000) - the doctoral thesis I was completing in the philosophy department whilst Fisher was working on Flatline Constructs. See part one of chapter four - or, if referring to the Blind Cupid Press book (2010), see chapter 11 in part four (pp. 211-232).      
 
[d] Matt Colquhoun confirmed to me in a recent email (7 May 2026) that Fisher hated Lawrence. 
      Deleuze, however, was a huge fan of Eastwood's favourite son and, as indicated, named Lawrence along with Nietzsche, Kafka and Artaud as one of the four great heirs to Spinoza; see the essay 'To Have Done with Judgement', in Gilles Deleuze, Essays Critical and Clinical, trans. Daniel W. Smith and Michael E. Greco (Verso, 1998), pp. 126-135. And see also my post on this idea dated 10 Jan 2026: click here
 
[e] In The Book of Skin (Cornell University, 2004), pp. 9-10, Connor writes: 
      "The skin asserts itself in the erotics of texture, tissue and tegument played out through the work of Roland Barthes; in the concern of Emmanuel Levinas with the exposed skin of the face, as the sign of essential ethical nudity before the other [...] the extraordinary elaborations of the play of bodily surfaces, volumes and membranes in Derrida's concepts of double invagination [...] the concept of the fold in the rethinking of subjective and philosophical depth in the work of Gilles Deleuze; the fascination with the intrigues of the surface in the work of Baudrillard; and the abiding presence of skin in the work of Jean-François Lyotard, from the arresting evocation of the opened out skin of the planar body at the beginning of his Libidinal Economy through to the Levinsian emphasis on the annunciatory powers of skin at moments through The Inhuman. Most strikingly of all [...] there has been the prominence of the skin in the meditations on place, shape and the 'mixed body' of Michel Serres. Across all this work, as ubiquitously in modern experience, the skin insists." 
     
[f] See Deleuze and Guattari writing in A Thousand Plateaus, trans. Brian Massumi (The Athlone Press, 1988), pp. 150 and 160-161.  
      When building a BwO, they explicitly advocate the injection of small doses of caution as crucial to what is, after all, a highly experimental practice; one that can easily result in "a dreary parade of sucked-dry, catatonicized, vitrified, sewn-up bodies" rather than bodies full of "gaiety, ecstasy, and dance".
      Deleuze and Guattari insist dismantling the organism has nothing to do with the death drive: "You have to keep enough of the organism for it to reform each dawn [...] and you have to keep small rations of subjectivity in sufficient quantity to enable you to respond to the dominant reality. [...] You don't reach the BwO, and its plane of consistency, by wildly destratifying." 
      The knack is to "patiently and momentarily dismantle the organization of the organs we call the organism" - don't just empty out your organs or flay yourself. If you do that - "if you blow apart the strata without taking precautions", then bad things will happen. "Staying stratified - organized, signified, subjected - is not the worst that can happen; the worst that can happen is if you throw the strata into demented or suicidal collapse, which brings them back down on us heavier than ever." 
       
[g] D. H. Lawrence, 'Education of the People', in Reflections on the Death of a Porcupine and Other Essays, ed. Michael Herbert, (Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 161.
 
[h] Bill Grundy interviewed the Sex Pistols on the Today programme on 1 December 1976. It didn't quite go to plan and resulted in a fury of tabloid headlines and national outrage. A transcript of the interview can be read here. And the actual interview can be watched here.  
 
[i] This part of Fisher's 1999 thesis has held up very well - in fact, is probably truer now than then; our algorithmic landscape is precisely an overwhelming dependence-circuitry designed to trigger affective states via direct neuronic feedback loops (endless notifications, doomscrolling, etc.).  
 
[j] It could be, of course, that Fisher first saw Videodrome on home video and not at the cinema. The original VHS release (1987), however, was a cut version of the original film; the distributors (CIC Video) responding to pressure to remove some of the more graphic material (the UK at this time was in a state of moral panic over so-called video nasties). The uncut version wasn't available on video until the re-release in August 1990.  

[k] Entry in The Von Hell Diaries dated Thurs 29 March 1984. 

[l] As Fisher notes: "Like much of Ballard's most important imagery, the concept of the spinal landscape is derived from surrealism." (118)

 
For other posts in this series on Fisher's Flatline Constructs, click here.  
 
 

8 Jun 2026

Notes on Mark Fisher's Flatline Constructs (2025): Introduction and Chapter One

(Zer0 Books, 2025) [a]
Cover design by Rebecca Wright / charcoalstudio.co.uk
Reimagined by Stephen Alexander (2026)
 
'The more artificial you can make it, the greater the chance of its looking real.' [b]
                                                                                                 
  
I. 
 
As is only right and proper for an Introduction, Fisher sets out some of his key terms (my emphasis in bold):
 
"Gothic flatline: a plane where it is no longer possible to differentiate the animate from the inanimate, and where to have agency is not necessarily to be alive." (14) 
 
This anorganic continuum, says Fisher, is the "province of the Gothic" (15). 
 
Just to clarify, he adds:
 
"The Gothic flatline designates a zone of radical immanence. And to theorise this flatline demands [...] the theorisation of immanence. This thesis calls that approach Gothic Materialism." (15)
 
Fisher also informs us of his major aim: to pursue cybernetics to its limits by asking 'What if we are as 'dead' as the machines?' "Much of what follows is an attempt to answer this question" (15) and reach the Gothic flatline. 
 
As might be apparent, Fisher is deeply indebted in his thinking to Deleuze and Guattari (and their reading of the German art historian Wilhelm Worringer). For Deleuze and Guattari, the Gothic refers us to nonorganic life and has nothing to do with anything "supernatural, ethereal or otherworldly" (15) [c]. 
 
That said, Fisher does rather want to sex up the idea of materialism by thinking it "in terms closer to Horror fiction than to theories of social relations" (15) and demonstrate how the anorganic "is not the dead matter of conventional mechanistic science; on the contrary it swarms with strange agencies" (16).
 
Now, without wishing to anticipate what Fisher says later in Flatline Constructs, I think it might be helpful to clarify this point by stressing that the anorganic (or nonorganic) is entirely different from the inorganic. Whilst the latter is - like a Monty Python parrot - completely devoid of life, the former is a vibrant, unorganised form of intensive life operating on a flatline. 
      
Unfortunately, things get complicated because techno-capitalism, argues Fisher, has collapsed these distinctions, rendering human subjects inorganic and machines anorganic and thus it is that we end up discussing "the gleaming products of technically sophisticated capitalism" (16) in the "ostensibly archaic terms familiar from Horror fiction: zombies, demons" (16), etc. 
 
 
II.
 
Finally, there are two other names who are central to Flatline Constructs: Freud and Baudrillard ...
 
Freud emerges in Fisher's study as "a somewhat ambivalent figure, sometimes an ally, sometimes a foe, of Gothic Materialism" (17). The problem is, although Freud flirts with the idea of the inanimate becoming active in his essay The Uncanny (1919), he ultimately dismisses it. 
 
As for Baudrillard (whose work at times parallels that of Deleuze and Guattari, but which is by no means compatible) [d], his interest in cyberpunk fiction and film combined with "his fascination with automata and simulacra, make him both the object of a Gothic Materialist theory, and a contributor to it" (18). 
 
Baudrillard matters for Fisher also because it is Baudrillard "who is most associated with the emergence of theory-fiction as a mode" (19), putting an end to theory and fiction as separate genres. In Flatline Constructs, Fisher wants to take Baudrillard's thinking in this area very seriously "and approach fictional texts, not simply as literary texts awaiting theoretical 'readings', but as themselves already intensely theoretical" (19) [e].  
 
 
III.  
 
Chapter One of Fisher's thesis "examines the nexus of postmodernism, cybernetics and the Gothic" (20) and is titled 'Screams, Screens, Flatlines'. It opens with an analysis of Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982) or as those who prefer novels to films know it, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (Philip K. Dick, 1968); a key cyberpunk text. 
 
The chapter also "aims to show ways in which Cybernetics has been haunted by the Gothic" (20) [f] and how the language of Horror is important for Deleuze and Guattari's cybernetic realism or what Fisher calls the hypernatural - a concept that is positioned "as an intensification of naturalism, and by opposition the supernatural" (20).  
 
Before examining these things in more detail, let me just confess that I have minimal interest in the kind of films and novels that fascinate Fisher. I've seen Blade Runner - and, to be honest, I found it a bit boring; but not half as boring as William Gibson's Neuromancer (1984), which sits alongside George Eliot's Silas Marner (1861) as the book I most wish I'd never attempted to read.
 
So, while I'm curious about Fisher's work, I move in a very different cinematic and fictional universe. 
  
 
IV.
 
Dick-Gibson-Burroughs-Ballard-Cronenberg ... Fisher wants to envelop this literary-cinematic line along with a legion of other names - Lovecraft, Freud, Marx, Deleuze, Guattari, Worringer, McLuhan, Jameson, Baudrillard - into Gothic Materialism conceived as an alternative postmodernism.
 
He explains that the writers and filmmakers with whom he mostly enjoys interfacing are already haunted by Gothic Materialism. They are not postmodernists "who process reality through a textualist or linguistic grid, but theorists who understand 'postmodernity' as an essentially material phenomenon, describing its effects primarily in terms of the impact that new telecommercial configurations have on the human nervous system" (27). 
 
They (to a greater or lesser degree) understand that man is no longer alienated, but ecstatic - ecstasy being defined as a free-floating experience that arises "when the subject is jacked into late capitalism's network of cybernetic communications" (28) and retreat to a private space is no longer an option. 
 
This terminal lack of retreat breeds a distinct gothic dread; not a traditional psychological fear of castration or external penetration by technology, but a realization that we no longer possess any organic interiority. We have been turned radically inside out - everted into the circuit (a thought that might make even an android scream).    
 
Once jacked in this manner, it's naive to still posit a "transcendent and authentic human agent" (29) who might resist and overcome capital. In fact, rather than think of human subjects, better to speak of non-subjectified forms of individuation - i.e., individuals who have become one with their environment. And nobody helps us conceive of such posthuman individuals than some of the names listed above:
 
"Gothic Materialism locates in Baudrillard's ecstatic communication, Gibson's Cyberspace, Jameson's total flow and Cronenberg's Videodrome, the map of hypermediatised capitalism that is decoding privatised subjectivity." (31)
 
  
V. 
 
To recap: Gothic Materialism = cybernetic realism. 
 
And the key feature of all cybernetic systems is feedback - both positive and negative.   

Which is why criticism of the system and forms of resistance to it are futile; for both, as Baudrillard pointed out, can easily be fed back into a system that "doesn't work by suppression, or repression, but through participative processes" (40). 
 
For Fisher, the fact that there is a "convergence of cybernetics and sorcery on the Gothic Flatline" (43) appears to be a paralysing predicament to say the least. However, the flatline is where everything happens; "the site of primary process [...] not a line of death but rather a continuum enfolding [...] beyond both death and life" (43).
 
I'm not sure that is meant to be encouraging, but it sounds strangely positive to my ears - almost hinting at a kind of dark and secret utopianism. There may be no hope for humanity in a conventional sense - no god to save us or revolution to liberate us - but by flattening human identity into an immortal, self-assembling network of digital code and alien desire, the flatline offers a release from personal neurosis into a state of inhuman euphoria. 
 
Ultimately, the Gothic Flatline excites because it invites us to merge with a vast cosmic machine (at least I think that's what's on offer). 
 
It's a shame that The Matrix was released in the same year Fisher submitted his PhD (1999), as he might have found it a useful point of reference, even if Baudrillard was unimpressed by the film and thought it a fundamental misunderstanding of his work [g]. As it is, he relies heavily on Neuromancer, in which the term flatline is central.   
 
 
VI. 
 
As Adam Jones rightly said in his Foreword to Flatline Constructs, Fisher likes to promote the idea of a Gothic Marx; one who emphasised the vampiric character of capitalism:
 
"The modern world for Marx is peopled with the undead; it is indeed a Gothic world haunted by spectres and ruled by the mystical nature of capital." (44)
 
But - and this is important - as capitalism develops and mutates it "outstrips Marx's most horrified descriptions of it" (45), just as the Gothic "escapes codification as a generic, psychological or fantastic mode to become the most persuasive materialist account of the contemporary socioeconomic scene" (45). 
 
Fisher continues:
 
"For cyberpunk, Marx's most Gothic language has become his most realistic, whereas his organicist protestations against capital look like antique sentimentalities." (45)
 
Recognising this, Deleuze and Guattari's work "inherits and supplements Marx's Gothic vocabulary" (45), which is why they like to speak of vampires, werewolves, and the body without organs - although it should be noted that there's nothing horrific about the latter as open system full of possibilities; it's the organ-isation of the body into an organism or "homeostatically sealed and hierarchically arranged bio-container" (49) that should give us the shivers.  
 
 
VII. 
 
Of course, embodiment isn't everything; and it certainly doesn't underwrite subjectivity. 
 
As Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr discovers, a brain in a liquid-filled jar "can have the experience of subjectivity - all the memories and dreams that post-Freudian man thinks define him uniquely - so long as the right material conditions are simulated" (51) [h].     
 
Thus - and this is something which again I know some readers will have trouble accepting - the jar matters just as much as the brain inside. Identity needn't be something essential or even personal; it can be engineered just like a prosthetic leg. 
 
And if that's the case, then does it really matter if you are dealing with an old school human or a genetically engineered bio-synthetic humanoid (what they term replicants in Blade Runner)?
 
Fisher concludes section 1.4 of his opening chapter by pointing out that debates around the question of whether Deckard is or isn't a replicant miss the Gothic Materialist implications of the film:
 
"Since, in Blade Runner, the criteria for rating the human above the replicants [...] have now evaporated, Cartesian epistemological questions have been obsolesced by functional / operational criteria. Since you could be a replicant [...] it is already as if you were a replicant, a desiring-machine. Becoming-replicant is therefore not a matter of identifying oneself as a technical machine; it is not a question of identification at all, but of recognising all identity as construction." (54)  
 
I have to admit, that's a brilliant insight - and probably more relevant to the world we live in today than anything I wrote in my PhD.  
 
 
VIII.  
 
In the end, it all comes down to (an art of) lines: organic (naturalistic) lines and geometrical (mechanical) lines. And of course, the Gothic flatline ... These lines determine how we interact with our environment and, indeed, what kind of environment exists to interact with.  
 
In brief, we might think of organic lines as the ones that shape nature and the representation of nature in classical art. People who love these flowing, undulating lines - think rhythymic waves and rolling hills - are seduced by a relaxing, harmonious aesthetic and will probably imagine Mother Earth with exaggerated female curves à la the Venus of Willendorf.
 
Geometric lines, on the other hand, are rigid and right angled; they can be found in abstract art, modernist architecture and mathematics. Those who love the precision of these lines are seduced by a fascist aesthetic and wish to impose structure and order onto a chaotic world; they value logic and wish to impose systems, grids, or networks in order to exercise control.         
 
As for the Gothic flatline, well, as we have discussed, this is beyond the binary of the organic and geometric and dissolves the distinction between them. In other words, it flattens the biological and technological on to the same plane; things become entangled so it becomes impossible to say where biology ends and machinery begins. 
 
In other words, for Fisher and his cyberpunk chums, humans are no longer independent organic beings who simply use tools and machinery; rather, we are fully integrated parts of a massive techno-digital landscape: "In the move from Naturalism to hypernaturalism [or cybernetic realism] the old distinction between vitalism and mechanism [...] collapses." (60)
 
And there's no point in calling for either a neo-vitalism or a neo-thanatropism, as neither will provide a satisfactory description for the world today. What we need is a concept - or at least a term - that we can use to discuss what arrives on the flatline - and Gothic fiction gives it to us: undeath (which is, of course, synonymous with unlife).    
 
"Following Freud [...] we can think of unlife and undeath not as opposed to life - or death - but as designating a continuum which includes, but moves beyond, the so-called living." (62) [i] 

    
Notes
 
[a] All page numbers given in the post refer to this edition of Flatline Constructs
 
[b] Francis Bacon, in David Sylvester, The Brutality of Fact: Interviews with Francis Bacon (Thames and Hudson, 1987), p. 148. Quoted by Fisher in Flatline Constructs, p. 35. At the close of chapter one of Flatline Constructs, Fisher suggests that Bacon is the painter who best helps us visualise the world from a Gothic Materialist perspective.
 
[c] It's because Fisher wishes to disassociate his theory of Gothic Materialism from some of its existing cultural associations, that I find Graham Harman's description of Flatline Constructs as "a precious gift from the other world, where he [Fisher] now resides", so profoundly mistaken. If I were the publishers, I'd remove this remark from the front of the book. 
 
[d] One of the aims of Flatline Constructs, says Fisher, is to "play off Deleuze-Guattari and Baudrillard against each other" (18). 
 
[e] This is one of many points on which Fisher and I are in accord. In my own doctoral thesis completed at Warwick in the mid-late 1990s (and submitted just a few months after Fisher submitted his), I had a section of the Introduction titled 'On Dissolving the Genre Distinction Between Philosophy and Literature'. 
      See Outside the Gate: A Study of Nietzsche's Project of Revaluation as Mediated Via the Work of D. H. Lawrence (University of Warwick, 2000): click here

[f] Fisher has the slightly irritating habit of capitalising words that don't require capitalisation. For the sake of consistency, I follow his lead and adopt his practice. If Gothic requires a big G, still there is no reason as far as I can see why cybernetics should come with a capital C. 
 
[g] In a k-punk post titled 'dis-identity politics' (25/04/2006), Fisher claims that he is "no fan of the Wachowskis' Matrix" - even if it did become a "massively propagated pulp mythos" which "suggested that what counts as 'real' is an eminently political question". 
      See k-punk: The Collected and Unpublished Writings of Mark Fisher (2004 - 2016), ed. Darren Ambrose (Repeater Books, 2018), p. 136. 
 
[h] I'm referencing The Man with Two Brains (dir. Carl Reiner, 1983), starring Steve Martin as Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr, a pioneering neurosurgeon. 
      Whilst not mentioning this film - do CCRU members ever enjoy comedies? - Fisher does mention Gibson's novel Count Zero (1986) in which Josef Virek lives as a disembodied consciousness inside a life-support vat and notes that "if subjectivity can be experienced by a brain in a vat [...] what is interesting [...] is not the subjectivity but the vat" (47). 
        
[i] Without knowing anything of Fisher's work at the time, I explored similar ideas in a six-part series of talks at Treadwell's in 2006 entitled Thanatology. 
      See the first two essays - 'On Dissolving the Distinction Between Life and Death' and 'All Being is a Being Towards Death' - in The Treadwell's Papers, Vol. II, (Blind Cupid Books, 2010). Or click here for a thanatological fragment based on material in the first of these essays posted on TTA (27 Sept 2014).   
 
 
For a post discussing Adam Jones's Foreword to Fisher's Flatline Constructs (5 June 2026), please click here.  
 
 

5 Jun 2026

Notes on Mark Fisher's Flatline Constructs (2025): Foreword by Adam Jones

(Zer0 Books, 2025) [a]
Cover design by Rebecca Wright 
 
 
I.
 
Long before he was writing about capitalist realism and acid communism, Mark Fisher was promoting a fusion of cyberpunk fiction and European philosophy that he termed gothic materialism
 
And Flatline Constructs (2025) - a work completed in 1999 and submitted that year as a doctoral thesis at the University of Warwick - not only affords a valuable insight into Fisher's early thinking but "retrospectively illuminates the political debility of a cybernetic realism that snuffs out every alternative to the present". 
 
In other words, Flatline Constructs "diagnoses the paralysing predicament which Fisher's subsequent work would struggle to overcome" [b].    
 
 
II.  
 
In his Foreword to the book, Adam Jones roots Fisher's gothic materialism in Marx's insistence that capitalism feeds, vampire-like, on living labour. For Fisher, says Jones - and I agree with him - this is not a simile or merely a "Stoker-esque turn of phrase" (2); the gothic element is "the domain proper to materialist analysis" (2).      
 
In other words, if you want to know about the reality of capitalism, don't waste time asking about what it means or represents - ask rather what it does:
 
"The vampirism of capital does not present itself as representing or standing-in for the capitalist process [...] capital's gothic process is the process of vampirism itself. It is the undeath which feeds on life, and in so doing troubles the very distinction between organic, animated vitality and cold, inanimate mechanism; bringing both together in what Fisher calls the anorganic continuum." (3)    
 
Jones continues: 
 
"Understood in this gothic manner, as suspending the rigidity of the border between life and death [...] capital traverses this boundary which Fisher calls the Gothic Flatline." (3)
 
If we wanted to phrase this in a more Deleuze-Guattarian manner - and Fisher "aligns himself wholeheartedly" (3) with their ontology - we'd speak about a plane of immanence; i.e., a zone of existence where all things exist equally as things and are interconnected regardless of their status.  
 
Vampires may be fictional, but on a plane of immanence they are just as real as rats, robots, or rainbows [c]. And understood "as functional sets of relations which produce actions" (4) vampirism is cybernetically real and gothic materialism basically refers to cybernetic realism.       
 
 
III. 
 
Moving on, but sticking with Jones's preface, I was interested to read his description of the Cybernetic Culture Research Unit, with which Fisher was closely associated: 
 
"The CCRU was a quasi-department of post-structuralist, post-Marxist philosophy [...] a fictional entity generated by a collection of junglist professors [...] and graduate students with a predilection for Deleuze, Burroughs, Haraway, and amphetamines" (4-5). 
 
However, I was disappointed that he couldn't actually bring himself to mention the name Nick Land, preferring to write that the CCRU was "led by a man who would go on to suffer a complete mental collapse, only to emerge as the philosopher of 'Neoreaction' (5). 
 
I believe the term for this is damnatio memoriae.  
 
Is Jones scared that if he says Land's name something terrible will be invoked, or the man himself might suddenly appear, à la Beetlejuice? 
 
It's an incredibly coy (and I think insulting) omission. Land deserves far more respect than that. For whatever one thinks of his subsequent political trajectory, his philosophical brilliance during the 1990s was the engine of the CCRU and reducing his influence actually weakens our understanding of Fisher's development. 
 
 
IV. 
 
Jones ends his foreword on what appears to be a rather sour note of pessimism and defeat:
 
"The revolutionary flux of social upheaval, accelerated by new technological forces which escaped the regulatory circuits of bourgeois modernity, did not take place. [...] It is hard to have any of what the CCRU would call 'cyberpositivity' two decades later." (10)
 
Capitalist realism triumphed and Fisher was obliged to confront this in his later work, acknowledging that "hyperreality is far more conducive to bourgeois subjectivity than ever" (11). 
 
Jones continues:
 
"Man was given New Flesh by his cybernetic machineries, but in plugging into the Cronenbergian circuits of a technicity fully under enemy control, they have given capital ever more means to regulate the use of human bodies and minds in productive time.
      Where the images of Cyberpunk futures and techno-futurist marketing offered us post-humanity, they have delivered new precarities of all-too-human suffering in the contemporary economy [...] They have enclosed the digital commons, converting cyberspace into a dominion whose organising principle is the production of data as a commodity." (11) 
 
What a bummer, as our American friends like to say. 
 
And yet, who knows, maybe Hölderlin was right to suggest that where lies the gravest danger that most threatens mankind, there grows also the power of salvation [d]. 
 
And maybe Jones is right to suggest that "it is the light of cybertheory's floundering that [...] it is right to to make a critical retrospective turn, back towards its very foundations as a project" (11) - back, that is to say, to Mark Fisher's Flatline Constructs ...
 
  
Notes
 
[a] All page numbers given in the post refer to this edition of Flatline Constructs
 
[b] Remarks made by Ray Brassier in a blurb provided for Fisher's book (no page number). 
 
[c] This is something I have found a lot of non-philosophers have problems with, probably because Western culture likes to separate objective facts from subjective meanings and we are trained to view reality as binary. Fisher's project in Flatline Constructs is to collapse such binaries.
      But here's also confusion over terminology; most people seem to use real and actual as synonymous. Thus, at a recent talk, for example, someone in the audience refused to admit the existence of unicorns no matter how I attempted to explain things in flat ontological terms and illustrate that even non-actual entities lacking physical presence can have conceptual, cultural, and affective reality (the irony was, as a Christian, they at the same time insisted on the truth of God's existence).
 
[d] See Friedrich Hölderlin, 'Patmos', in Friedrich Hölderlin Poems and Fragments, trans. Michael Hamburger (The University of Michigan Press, 1966), pp. 462-463. This famous poem - much loved by Heidegger - declares: Wo aber Gefahr ist, wächst / Das Rettende auch
 
 
This post will continue in a future post to be published shortly ...
 
 

4 Jun 2026

Fanged Noumena: To Learn from Trakl is to Howl at the Moon

Messrs. Land & Trakl
 
'Two wolves in the sinister Wood / We mixed our blood in a stony embrace  
And the stars of our race fell upon us.' [1]
 
 
I. 
 
I once published some notes on the case of the Aquarian Expressionist poet Georg Trakl in which I praised his love of silence and admired the blueness of his twilight [2]. No one can deny that there are many arresting - and disturbing - images in his work, as he sets about exploiting the often uncanny ambiguity of the German language. 
 
Wittgenstein was an admirer; Heidegger was an admirer; and Nick Land is also a fan, although he responds in very much his own manner to Trakl whom he regards as an archetypal poète maudit - one who embraced his own lycanthropic nature and thus made a radical break from humanity and its ovine idealism. 
 
 
II. 
 
In his essay 'Spirit and Teeth', Land celebrates the fact that Trakl offers no hope of redemption - neither in his writings nor in his actual life, which is short and not particularly pleasant, involving incest, depression, and a fatal drug-overdose aged 27. 
 
He condemns Heidegger (and Derrida) for trying to spiritualise Trakl and ignore the libidinal tension in his work; the fact that to write as Trakl writes is to write in blood and with rabid impatience: "Trakl took very little time over anything." [3]      
 
Like Rimbaud, Trakl belongs to an inferior race outside of civilisation; a race that is "irresponsible and nomadic" [4], but which possesses sharp teeth with which to bite. 
 
 
III. 
 
Land also wrote an earlier text on Trakl, based on his PhD work at Essex [5]. Titled 'Narcissism and Dispersion', it's a reading of Heidegger's 1953 interpretation of Trakl and it arguably provides justification for Land's war against Heidegger's circular hermeneutics and his "repugnant obstinacy and piety" [6].  
 
I mentioned that in 'Spirit and Teeth' Land rejects Heidegger's efforts to spiritualise and pacify Trakl. Well, in 'Narcissism and Dispersion' we witness how Heidegger attempts this by treating language like a closed (narcissistic and masturbatory) loop; something that only ever concerns itself with itself. 
 
Land counters this with an idea of dispersion [Zerstreuung], insisting that what's important about Trakl's poetry is that it allows language to unravel or decompose and leak into a material Outside.  
 
Whilst Heidegger desperately tries to defend Trakl's verse from being read as a symptom of a degenerating, fragmented ego so as to relocate Trakl back into a grand gathering of Geist, Land is having none of this. 
 
For Land, Trakl is not the poet of home sweet home, but of nomadic wandering and his language does not reflect upon itself in quiet isolation; it rapidly spreads like a rash or buzzes like a mad swarm of flies. 
 
For Heidegger, the blueness of twilight indicates a time of peace when the beast has been tamed; for Land, the latter is forever untameable and wild blueness is akin to what, as a Lawrentian, I would term chaos (the desire for which forms the very essence of poetry) [7].
 
 
IV.
 
So, on the one hand, we have Heidegger's reading of Trakl ... one that sanitises the latter by downplaying the drug-induced mania and seeks to pass off the work as a (mystical) affirmation of Being in order to reinforce his own philosophy.   
 
On the other hand, we have Land's reading of Trakl ... one that celebrates the latter by emphasising its feral character and seeks to pass off the work as a (filthy and furious) affirmation of base materialism in order to reinforce his own philosophy. 
 
Heidegger suggests that Trakl’s language is essentially singing the song of a homecoming - the movement of humanity away from its current alienated, fallen state and toward a primordial beginning.
 
Land says it's a werewolf's howling.
 
The question is: Would Trakl have preferred Heidegger's reading of his work, or Nick Land's?   
 
Obviously, we can never know the answer for sure - and it's highly probable he would have disliked both - but I like to believe that, if forced to choose, Trakl would prefer the latter and recognise himself a little better in Land's reading which, whilst highly theoretical, nevertheless contains something of the ecstatic nihilism that characterised his writing.
 
Having said that, Trakl scholars almost universally prefer Heidegger's reading over Land's and Heidegger's work is treated as foundational (even if problematic and at times deeply flawed). Land remains seen (at best) as an eccentric, peripheral figure by the Academy. 
 
The fact that his interpretation of Trakl is highly regarded within certain marginalised circles and subcultures (and on blogs like this) only confirms their idea of Land as someone who arouses fellow lunatics but has very little to offer serious scholars within the field of German literary studies who, much like Heidegger, after reading Trakl's poems are able to simply lay down their books, close their eyes, and enjoy a good night's sleep [8].  
 
 

   
Notes
 
[1] Georg Trakl, 'Passion', in Poems and Prose: A Bilingual Edition, trans. Alexander Stillmark (Northwestern University Press, 2005), p. 302. 
      These lines are quoted by Land in his essay 'Spirit and Teeth' (1993), see note 3 below
 
[2] See the post 'Drinking the Silence: Notes on the Case of Georg Trakl' (17 Dec 2018): click here.  
 
[3] Nick Land, 'Spirit and Teeth', in Fanged Noumena: Collected Writings 1987-2007, ed. Robin Mackay and Ray Brassier (Urbanomic / Sequence Press, 2011), pp. 175-201. The line quoted is on p. 181.
      This essay was originally published in Of Derrida, Heidegger, and Spirit, ed. David Wood (Northwestern University Press, 1993), pp. 41-55.  
 
[4] Nick Land, 'Spirit and Teeth', in Fanged Noumena ... p. 183. 
 
[5] Land received his PhD in 1987 from the University of Essex under the supervision of David Farrell Krell. His thesis focused on Martin Heidegger's 1953 essay 'Language in the Poem' [Die Sprache im Gedicht] and its interpretation of the poetry of Georg Trakl.
 
[6] Nick Land, 'Narcissism and Dispersion in Heidegger's 1953 Trakl Interpretation', in Fanged Noumena ... p. 118. This essay first appeared in Philosophers' Poets, ed. David Wood (Routledge, 1990), pp. 72-90.  
 
[7] I'm thinking here of Lawrence's essay 'Chaos in Poetry' - much loved by Deleuze and Guattari - which served as an introduction to Harry Crosby's poetry collection Chariot of the Sun (Black Sun Press, 1931).
      The essay can be found in D. H. Lawrence, Introductions and Reviews, ed. N. H. Reeve and John Worthen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 107-116.
 
[8] I'm paraphrasing Land's ending to 'Narcissism and Dispersion'. Land regarded Heidegger as an exhausted and ageing philosopher with Platonic instincts who "felt nauseous at the thought of losing control, and perhaps still believed in God". Fanged Noumena, p. 121. 
 
 

3 Jun 2026

A Reply to Rosamund Pike

Poster for Suzie Miller's play Inter Alia (2025) 
Starring Rosamund Pike as Jessica Parks 
 
 
I. 
 
I don't know why, but I've always had something of a soft spot for the English actress Rosamund Pike, even though, as far as I can recall, I've only ever seen her in a couple of films - Jack Reacher (2012) and Gone Girl (2014). 
 
Maybe it's because she's a Londoner. Or maybe it's because she's a bit posh, has a nice voice and an unusual face. Or maybe I just like the name, Rosamund, which has a fascinating dual etymology [1]. 
 
Whatever the reason, I'm afraid to say that I don't entirely sympathise with her calling out of an audience member for daring to text while she was performing at a West End theatre [2].    
 
 
II. 
 
Returning to the stage after the cast had taken their final bows, Ms Pike addressed the audience directly, telling them how hard it is to tell a story and keep the magic of the moment when people are using their phones to take photos or send messages. 
 
Apparently, she received a round of applause for this. 
 
But I would like to remind her and the growing band of thespians who have chosen to criticise the contemporary audience for their lack of etiquette, that we are in 2026 and the hyper-connected digital world is very different from the analogue world of just thirty years ago. 
 
In 1996, when the auditorium lights went down, the outside world vanished and people sat up in their seats, shut up, and paid attention to what unfolded on the stage. But - whether we like it or not - smartphones have changed all that. 
 
Now, not only is there an expectation of continuous connectivity, but so too is there an acceptance of (and even a need for) constant distraction. Audiences quickly become bored and impatient with a drama that demands sustained intellectual and emotional engagement. 
 
The simple fact is theatregoers today do not think of themselves as participants in some quasi-religious art event unfolding in a semi-magical space, but as consumers who have paid good money to have a good time. And just as they are not going to queue up for tickets any longer or dress up in their Sunday best clothes, so they are not going to turn off their phones or stop taking images to share on social media. 
 

III.
 
And let me remind my actor friends also that theatres were once incredibly rowdy and highly interactive places. The enforcement of absolute silence in the auditorium was a relatively modern development; part of a campaign to tame the audience spearheaded by the rising middle class during the Victorian era [3].
 
Prior to the late-19th century, theatregoers did not sit passively in the dark, nervous even about clearing their throats or rustling a sweet paper. Essentially, playhouses were more like modern music halls or taverns. The auditorium was lit just as brightly as the stage and people went to the theatre to socialise, to flirt, and to be seen in their finery, rather than merely watch actors treading the boards. 
 
Audience members would not only loudly converse with one another, they would actively heckle the performers. And if they particularly disliked what they saw, they might even throw rotten fruit. The possibility that things might kick off and lead to a riot was ever-present. 
 
All of which I'm sure Ms Pike - as an Oxford graduate with a degree in English Literature - must surely know, making her on-stage griping purely performative and a little disingenuous.  

 
Notes
 
[1] The genuine origin of the name is Germanic, deriving from the terms hros and mund and translates in modern English as protector of horses. During the Middle Ages, however, the name became associated with the Latin phrases rosa munda (pure rose) and rosa mundi (rose of the world) - the latter of which was often used to refer to the Virgin Mary.
      As for her surname - Pike - it is not clear whether this refers to the weapon or the fish. It has also been speculated that it might derive from the word 'peak' (the highest point of a hill or mountain). 
 
[2] The play was Suzie Miller's Inter Alia (2025) - a feminist moral drama - and the performance took place at Wyndham's Theatre on Saturday 30 May, 2026. The play earned critical acclaim upon its original National Theatre run and its current West End staging has also had mostly excellent reviews, particularly Pike's performance as Jessica Parks.   
 
[3] As the bourgeoisie grew in economic power and self-confidence, they sought spaces that reflected their values of respectability and restraint. And so it was decided that working-class audiences would be increasingly priced out of mainstream theatres and obliged to frequent cheaper venues, such as music halls.
      Plays were rebranded as high art rather than low-brow amusement and actors began to take themselves seriously as artistes who belonged on an elevated stage and in the limelight - whilst the audience were literally left down below in the dark. The only time they could express themselves was at the end of the performance, when it was hoped they would clap and cry bravo!  
      Just to be on the safe side, theatre managers even began printing rules of etiquette directly into playbills and putting up placards instructing audiences on how to behave. Shushing became an accepted method used by the bourgeois to silence and humiliate anyone who broke the rules. 
      By the early 20th century, the transformation was complete; the working class largely abandoned the so-called legitimate theatre for the interactive freedom of the music halls and, later, the cheaper, more casual environment of early cinemas.  
 

2 Jun 2026

Bring Back the Lengthsmen!

 On the left: a lengthsman in the village of Bramshill, Hampshire (1911), 
seen with his wooden wheelbarrow containing traditional tools of the trade 
(a long-handled shovel, a scythe, etc.) 
 On the right: a 'ground maintenance crew' working in the London Borough of Havering 
with their machinery and PPE in June 2023 [1]

 
I. 
 
I hate to begin a post with one of those proverbs that inane people often like to trot out as if they're in possession of some profound ancient wisdom, but ... If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well [2] is something that should be drilled into the teams of subcontracted operatives sent by my local council to tend for what remains of the natural environment - the roadside hedges, grass verges, trees, ditches, brooks and streams, etc.      
 
It's not so much a demand for greater excellence, as a demand for care. I want the men responsible for the above to possess a reasonable amount of skill and a certain degree of knowledge - want them to take pleasure and have pride in their work - but most of all I want them to care about the vegetation and wildlife and stop using noisy and destructive machines such as tractor-mounted flail-mowers.    

 
II. 
 
Without coming over all Jack Hargreaves [3], there once was an England - before severe budget cuts forced councils to use uncaring private contractors, adopt strict maintenance schedules, and use power tools that rip and rend rather than prune - in which open green spaces, shaded woodland, wild flower meadows, and small ponds, etc. were cherished and cared for not only as natural habitats for a huge variety of creatures, but as magical places in themselves.   
 
There was a time, indeed, when there were characters known as lengthsmen [4] who cheerfully kept a stretch of road neat and tidy, or worked as stewards along the canals and railways [5].  
 
Employed either by the Lords of the Manor or the parish councils, these men - dressed not in ghastly hi-vis coveralls and various items of PPE, but traditional heavy-duty clothing (a hat, thick woollen trousers, leather boots, and a durable jacket) - would prevent the vegetation from running riot (but without spraying toxic chemicals such as glyphosate), keep drainage ditches clear, repair fences and walls, lay hedges, and plant wild flowers. 
 
They would even collect litter - such as it was prior to the 1950s [6] - not shred it with electric strimmers into thousands of ever-smaller pieces of plastic and then drive off, uncaring, with sound systems blaring.     
 
Notes
 
[1] The first image comes via the Facebook group Historic Hampshire in old Photographs and was posted by Gary Allam on 11 August 2021: click here. The second image is via Havering Council's account on X -@LBofHavering - and was posted on 28 June 2023: click here
      I don't wish to single out Havering Council as being particularly bad when it comes to environmental issues; I refer to them simply because they are the ones charging me over £2000 a year in council tax. 
 
[2] The earliest documented version of this proverb was penned by Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield, in a letter to his son in 1774. 

[3] Jack Hargreaves was an English television presenter who, in an entertaining but non-sentimental manner, attempted to explain old countryways and rural traditions to a predominantly urban and suburban audience. He presented a weekly show, Out of Town, for over twenty years on ITV which I used to enjoy watching as a child in the Seventies. 
      In each episode Hargreaves appeared in short film reports on some aspect of rural life, introduced and narrated by him from a studio set based on the interior of a garden shed.  
 
[4] Although the official term lengthsman was coined in the 1700s, there have been men effectively fulfilling this role since the Tudor period. 
 
[5] Obviously, I'm painting a slightly rosy picture here of the past; I'm aware that rural labour was often extremely gruelling and poorly paid. 
 
[6] The nature (and sheer volume) of litter changed significantly with the post-WWII boom in mass-produced, single-use plastics and packaging. Prior to the mid-20th century, roadside rubbish consisted primarily of degradable paper, cardboard, and highly recyclable tin or glass. Thus, an old-school lengthsman clearing a ditch was dealing with materials that would either rot or hold value. 
      Now, the environment is littered daily with millions of casually discarded objects engineered to last for centuries. Thus, when modern maintenance crews choose to run over these items with heavy machinery rather than collect them, they are not merely failing to tidy up; they are actively transforming macro-pollution into thousands of indestructible microplastic fragments, permanently poisoning the local soil and waterways.