'All cultures have understood that being a blogger
is to be a tortured monkey in Hell ...'
I.
Having taken a short break from my engagement with Mark Fisher, I'm diving back into k-punk - his collected and unpublished writings (2004 - 2016), edited by Darren Ambrose (Repeater Books, 2018) - and all page references given here (in round brackets) refer to this work (while additional notes are indicated by letters in square brackets).
Let's pick things up in part six with an early post published on his famous blog to do with Spinoza and neuropunk ...
II.
According to Fisher, being a Spinozist is "both the easiest and the hardest thing in the world" (622):
"Easy, because it is simply a matter of acting in such a way as to produce joyful encounters. Hard, because the defaults of the Human Operating System are [...] set against this." (622)
The problem lies in the oversized human brain and its complexity; the fact that the reptilian and mammalian layers are covered with a thin, folded third layer that is responsible for the so-called higher functions.
It's this hominid layer responsible for language and consciousness on the one hand, that causes us also to desire that which is harmful to us - addictive and destructive forms of behaviour. Were it not for our unique brains, then we might not have art - but we might also have been spared the "unremitting misery, hatred and violence that have characterised human history" (623).
What can be done about this? Well, short of blowing our brains out à la Kurt Cobain, we can attempt to become-inhuman via a cybernetics of organic disassembly. Fisher is keen to be clear on this point:
"You don't disassemble the human organism by replacing its parts with metal or silicon components. [...] What matters is the overall organisation of the parts. Do the parts operate as hierarchically organised and functionally-specified 'organs' within a cybernegatively construed interiority or do they operate as deterritorialised potentials pulling from/towards the Outside?" (623)
The latter - as everybody now knows - is what Deleuze and Guattari (following Artaud) designate as the Body without Organs; a concept that Spinoza would have loved.
Anyway, the point is this: becoming-inhuman via the building of a BwO is in our best interests if we want to be free and happy and escape our "enslavement to a vast immiserating machine" (622) that is the human brain. It's for this reason that Fisher is able to declare that "k-punk is also neuropunk: an intensive rewiring of humanity's neural circuits" (624).
And you thought it was just a blog ... [a]
III.
Like Fisher, I'm not keen on hostile and abusive narcissists who choose to "air their resentments, ill-thought bile, and tedious ego-defence opinionism" (628) in the comments sections of blogs. Although, unlike Fisher, I don't operate any kind of policy regarding who can say what on TTA, nor do I delete negative remarks.
So, even when I am faced with "clinically deranged second-stringer stalker-obsessive autists with delusions of relevance" (630), I try to smile, stay calm, and move on.
IV.
Like Fisher - and this is probably a punk thing [b] - I despise hippies; their hedonic infantilism and its "pathetic legacy in New Age zen bullshit" (23).
As fundamentally "a middle-class male phenomenon" (234), there was never really anything countercultural about the counterculture, nor sensual about its hazy-lazy aesthetic:
"The hippies' sloppy, ill-fitting clothes, unkempt appearance and fuzzed-out psychedelic fascist drug talk displayed a disdain for sensuality characteristic of the Western master class." (235)
And like Fisher, I also despise the hippies' drug of choice: dope.
In a k-punk post dated 03 December 2004, he writes:
"What is supposed to be good about dope? The problem with it is not just the resultant psychosis but the ACTUAL STATE it puts people into in the first place - chronically demotivated, lethargic, filled with [...] idiot porcine self-satisfaction ..." (632)
Dope, Fisher continues, reduces people to the status of unthinking zombified consumer dreamed of by late capitalism.
Only those who are dissatisfied want to read and think; not those enslaved to the pleasure principle. It's politically expedient, therefore, to have effectively decriminalised the consumption of cannabis (even if, in the UK, laws technically remain in place controlling the possession, sale, and production).
V.
Does all this - his refusal to enter into dialogue, his hatred of hippies, his opposition to dope-smoking - make Fisher an intolerant dogmatist?
Probably.
Indeed, he admits as much in a k-punk post dated 17 February 2005, dismissing those who defend or advocate for tolerance, debate, respect for otherness, etc., as bourgeois liberals.
Now, I have to admit, I was similarly fanatic when younger. But I don't recall ever actually declaring myself to be an out-and-out dogmatist committed to the view that there are Truths (with a capital T) and that there is such a thing as the Good (with a capital G).
And by the time I was Fisher's age when he was writing this - thirty-six - I was a long way removed (philosophically and politically) from my position during my punk, pagan and eco-fascist days and no longer wished to kill the bothersome fly.
Fisher would doubtless say I had become a cynical PoMo-puppet, lost in sceptico-relativism and thus unable to act with conviction or affirm the future with hope and uncurbed enthusiasm. But I'd rather be a grey vampire [c] than end up arguing in all sincerity that dogmatism is religion in the best sense - in that it allows for an unapologetic assertion of universal values - thereby inviting people to spit on me.
VI.
Moving on ... I was amused to read this: "I'm of course delighted to have been shopped to the commissars of commonsense who compile Private Eye's 'Pseuds Corner'" (643).
Because, like Fisher, I too was once assigned a place in the above: one of Ian Hislop's lackeys deciding to mock my 2007 lecture series titled Zoophilia at Treadwell's Bookshop and finding the paper on Eve's encounter with the serpent discussed in relation to transhuman futures and sexual congress with snakes particularly worthy of ridicule [d].
Fisher is spot-on, of course, to say that the function of 'Pseud's Corner' is "to punish writing that in some way overreaches itself, that gets ideas above its station or gets carried away" and that "the effect on any writer who internalises the critique is to be intimidated into colourless mediocrity" (643).
Luckily, I never internalise anything, so that wasn't an issue for me - and I do hope Mark didn't take being called self-serious and pretentious too much to heart.
VII.
I've never been a big fan of Morrissey: I like some of his songs, but have never bought any of his records. But Fisher does a good job of making Morrissey sympathetic to me, if what he writes here is true:
"Morrissey represented the desire for a proletarian bohemia at the moment when - after the Sixties, after glam, after punk and post-punk - that possibility was being closed down." (653)
Fisher calls this Wildean defiance and writes of how the aspiration to enter into bohemia "was always the wrong kind of ambition from the perspective of a certain working-class way of thinking" (654).
Like Mark, I also know what it's like to have family members who regard writing as a hobby and put pressure on me to get a real job.
VIII.
'Exiting the Vampire Castle' (2013) remains one of my favourite pieces by Fisher - perhaps because it was one of the first things by him that I read. But it's also a piece I have written about in an earlier post, so readers who are interested can click
here.
That, then, just leaves the unfinished introduction to Fisher's proposed new book - Acid Communism - to discuss; a text from 2016 that comprises part seven of k-punk ...
A friend of mine - who, as a matter of fact, likes Fisher's work more than I do - nevertheless admits that Capitalist Realism (2009) might be regarded (somewhat ungenerously) as Fredric Jameson for beginners.
And one can't help wondering if Acid Communism wouldn't have been a far more readable, updated sequel to Herbert Marcuse's Eros and Civilization (1955) and One-Dimensional Man (1964) ...
Fisher's unfinished introduction certainly lends itself to this view, as it opens with a long quote from Marcuse and Fisher regrets the "declining influence of his work in recent years" (674) - work which "vividly evokes, as an immediate prospect, a world totally transformed" (675).
Fisher continues:
"It was no doubt this quality of his work that meant Marcuse was taken up so enthusiastically by elements of the Sixties counterculture. He had anticipated the counterculture's challenge to a world dominated by meaningless labour. The most politically significant figures in literature, he argued in One-Dimensional Man, were 'those who don't earn a living, at least not in the ordinary and normal way'. Such characters, and the forms of life with which they were associated, would come to the fore in the counterculture." (675)
Critics will dismiss this as an outmoded Romanticism. But it's worth pointing out, as Fisher does point out, that "as much as Marcuse's work was in tune with the counterculture, his analysis also forecast its ultimate failure and incorporation" (675).
He, Marcuse, wasn't naive or a starry-eyed dreamer - and neither is Fisher. Both see quite clearly the way in which even the most radical art can be quickly and effectively neutralised:
"A major theme of One-Dimensional Man was the neutralisation of the aesthetic challenge. Marcuse worried about the popularisation of the avant-garde, not out of elitist anxieties that the democratisation of culture would corrupt the purity of art, but because the absorption of art into the administered spaces of capitalist commerce would gloss over its incompatibility with capitalist culture. He had already seen capitalist culture convert the gangster, the beatnik and the vamp from 'images of another way of life' into 'freaks or types of the same life'." (675)
So, let's return to Marcuse - and let's return to the Sixties! Of the two, it's perhaps the later which is the most surprising move after all that Fisher once wrote about hippies and the counterculture (see section IV above). But, says Fisher, Marcuse allows us to see why the Sixties continue to exert a crucial influence on the present:
"In recent years, the Sixties have come to seem at once like a deep past so exotic and distant that we cannot imagine living in it, and a moment more vivid than now - a time when people really lived, when things really happened. Yet the decade haunts not because of some unrecoverable and unrepeatable confluence of factors, but because the potentials it materialised and began to democratise - the prospect of a life freed from drudgery - has to be continually suppressed." (675)
It's not so much that Fisher is now encouraging us to trust the hippies after all, rather, he's attempting to re-narrate the past [e] and salvage the utopianism of the 1960s counterculture and divorce psychedelic consciousness from both New Age escapism and capitalist commodification.
As we saw earlier (section II), Fisher wants to rewire the collective consciousness in such a manner that misery and depression no longer seem part and parcel of the human condition - that we have the right to demand joy (be that Spinozan or bohemian in nature).
Acid communism was Fisher's term for the ultimate neuropunk experiment - "a provocation and a promise" (677) to blow minds and raise consciousness - although whether it would also result in red plenty, universal liberation and happiness all round is something I remain unconvinced of.
And I'm really not about to start listening to The Beatles, FFS, or take up residence in some psychedelic shack alongside The Temptations [f].
Notes
[a] Fisher had high hopes for blogging (at its best) when he started k-punk: "What has begun to emerge on the most destratifying elements of the blogosphere is a depersonalising, desubjectifying network producing more joyful encounters in a positive feedback process ..." (624)
I rather suspect, however, that were Fisher still with us he would say of me what he says of fellow blogger Marcello Carlin in this k-punk post of 13 August 2004: "a morbidly compelling example of how not to be a good Spinozist" (624); someone who engages with "their own frozen images" (624) rather than directly and sensitively with the world and displays a "pathetically resentful hunger for attention" (624). I don't feel I show enough loyalty to the Kollektive to appeal to someone like Fisher.
Although you never know, he may have found something to his liking on TTA, just as Fisher's critical view of Carlin radically changed over the following decade, transforming their relationship from public conflict into one of deep, mutual respect.
[b] Johnny Rotten hated hippies for their complacency as he saw it. And Malcolm McLaren famously warns Helen in The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (1980) to never trust a hippie.
[c] For Fisher, a grey vampire is an individual who attaches himself to passionate, creative people, only to slowly drain their energy by constantly equivocating and sneering. If outwardly they appear charming, humorous, and intelligent, they are all the time seeking to undermine, demoralise and curb enthusiasm. Forever promising they are about to produce a major piece of work themselves, their perpetual procrastination ensures they fail to ever finish anything of value or substance.
See his k-punk post 'Break Through in Grey Lair' (16 August 2009), pp. 645-648, where he describes grey vampirism as a symptom of mental illness as well as characteristic of postmodern scepticism. He also posits a family resemblance between grey vampires and trolls, both of whom find a home in the Academy.
Here, of course, I am adopting the term grey vampire ironically and self-deprecatingly. And whereas Fisher viewed the grey vampire as a deeply negative, energy-sapping symbol of late capitalism, my text uses it to defend a model of scepticism contra dogmatism.
[d] Unfortunately, I cannot recall the number or date of the issue of Private Eye in which I featured in Pseud's Corner. However, Gary Lachman wrote of it in an article for the Independent (16 September 2007) and this can be read online here.
[e] According to Fisher: "The past has to be continually re-narrated, and the political point of reactionary narratives is to suppress the potentials which still await, ready to be re-awakened, in older moments." (676)
I suppose the point is there's much more to the Sixties than the simulated version we are presented with by the media; i.e., "the reduction of the decade to 'iconic' images, to 'classic' music and to nostalgic reminiscences" (676) which neutralise the real promise of the era.
[f] Fisher refers us to The Beatles track 'Tomorrow Never Knows' on Revolver (1966) and to 'Psychedelic Shack' by The Temptations (from the album of the same name, 1970) and argues that in these songs and the counterculture that inspired them you can hear the promise of acid communism: a new humanity, a new way of thinking, a new way of loving; "music such as this was an active dreaming which arose out of real social and cultural compositions, and which fed back into potent new collectivities [...] which rejected both drudgery and traditional resentments" (689). Again, I'm not convinced, but anyone who wants to tune in and drop out can click on the links supplied.
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