Fragments from an Open Letter to an Anonymous Demon

Illustration by Fareha Islam in

The Stuyvesant Spectator (2026) [1]

  

 

Opening Remarks 

 

A recently published post on the maxim (and showtune) 'It's Not Where You Start' (18 Aug 2026) now comes with a pointy-tailed pair of comments attached by an anonymous critic, which I thought it might be fun to address at some length here in the form of fragments from an open letter.     

 

This is not because I wish to pick a fight or stage some kind of performative confrontation - nor is it an attempt to butter parsnips, as my anonymous critic puts it [2]. 

 

The suggestion that these are merely empty words assembled for the sake of a post misses the functional reality: the comments section has an inconvenient word limit. Also, by publishing the material here it hopefully becomes accessible to a wider number of readers.      

 

Finally, two more things to note: firstly, all quotations in the text are from the comments written by the above (italicised terms are also ones used by them). 

 

Secondly, whilst I will endeavour to address my anonymous demon critic in a courteous manner, as requested, this is nevertheless a critical rebuttal of their arguments which I think naive and moralistic; the sort of uplifting twaddle I would expect from an enthusiastic sixth-form teacher inspired by the disastrous example of John Keating [3]. 

 

 

I. 

 

Dear Anonymous, 

 

You find it bizarre that I should refer to beings sired by the Devil and ask if I can "helpfully point toward one or two of them knocking around the planet", before then making a rather cheap and unfunny joke referencing two cinematic examples of such. 

 

Perhaps you are forgetting that in a previous comment added to an earlier post [4], you explicitly described yourself as demonic spawn. But even if you haven't forgotten this - and are simply engaging in a form of revisionism - to take an obviously metaphorical phrase and treat it as a literal, biological claim is a ridiculous rhetorical failure. 

 

Pointing out that The Omen (1976) and Rosemary's Baby (1968) are "just films", is to treat an everyday figure of speech with the pedantic literalism of a young child - or a deliberately obtuse internet troll. Most readers will recognise that the phrase 'spawned by the Devil' is a humorous narrative trope. To imply that I am referencing actual demons is to set up a straw man just so you can then feel clever in mocking it. 

 

As for your parenthetical remark - "Unless we're missing something" - I read this as a passive-aggressive attempt to establish yourself as the voice of reason and make me seem like the one obsessed with the supernatural. 

 

In other words, you are pretending to be an objective and slightly puzzled reader looking for literal movie monsters, while fully knowing that you are the person the phrase demonic spawn refers to. It's an ironic turning of the tables, but hardly very courteous and betrays the fact you come to the comments section not to discuss ideas, but perform and compete.    

 

I'm fine with that: but don't complain when I decide to play the same game and join you on the stage. One cannot adopt a demonic persona one week and then feign confusion when that exact persona is referenced the next. That's not being protean, just a bit of a prick.

 

II. 

 

Moving on, we come to your defence of "bloody hard work" and "bringing out the best (or possibly worst) of what one has in oneself". 

 

This, you insist, "isn't a cliché or trite formula", but a "life-affirming idea", thereby positioning yourself as a moral vitalist (someone who views both good and evil as active forces of agency), as well as one who likes to roll their sleeves up and graft (whether this corresponds with the reality of your own life is something I'd be interested to know).   

 

I don't oppose the values of "resilience, persistence, and perseverance" - ironically, the 2,780 posts published on Torpedo the Ark over the last fourteen years demonstrate my adherence to (or embodiment of) precisely these qualities. I'll return to this point later when addressing your accusation of laziness. 

 

However, I do challenge the above as foundational ideals within Christianity that were weaponised by modern bourgeois society [5] - as does Nietzsche, in both his sane and crazy periods. 

 

As he notes in Daybreak (§ 173), for example, the relentless praise of hard work is part of a strategy to keep individuals productive and predictable members of the herd. By draining the individual of their energy through constant economic activity, society successfully prevents the dangerous, disruptive emergence of genuine creative endeavour [6].

 

Thus, when you champion hard work over idleness you are not being a radical vitalist, but, rather, acting as an anti-Nietzschean shill for the capitalist machine. 

 

And if you care to re-read the section in The Gay Science that you quote from (§ 290), you'll note that Nietzsche doesn't in fact use any of the three terms you defend. Giving style to one's character requires rigorous artistic discipline, not submissiveness to God or economic compliance with the world of work. 

 

Thus, I'm sorry to say that you have misunderstood his philosophy in relation to this question, falling back as you do into a moral liberal framework. 

 

 

III. 

 

Still on Nietzsche ... You state that his concept of slave morality "isn't a stupid attack on underdogs [...] wanting to succeed" and that's true - but only because the English term was not part of 19th-century German vocabulary (although it is now a loanword I believe).

 

But even if you love underdogs, I doubt Nietzsche would have had much time for them: what is the letzte Mensch if not the ultimate underdog; hardworking, happy, self-preserving - and he's gonna finish on top once all the top dogs holding positions of power and authority have been neutered. 

 

This certainly sounds like a canine version of the Sklavenaufstand in der Moral and you'd have to be barking to deny it.   

 

 

IV.

 

Abandoning philosophical argument entirely, you then shift to a (cod-psychological) diagnosis of my character:

 

"In his statement that 'starting positions such as wealth, access to education, and social connections heavily determine the direction and final outcome of life' and that people 'lucky enough to have a good start will invariably finish ahead of the game', we learn the truth of Stephen Alexander's own ressentiment, bitterness, and fundamental laziness."

 

So much for your earlier plea for courtesy! 

 

And it rather surprises me that a demon spawned by the Father of Lies and concealed in anonymity should be so concerned with learning the truth.  

  

More importantly, your character diagnosis fails on a purely empirical level: you provide no evidence of my ressentiment or bitterness and the 2,780 published posts on Torpedo the Ark over the last fourteen years render your accusation of fundamental laziness absurd. 

 

As a writer, my job is to write. And the millions of words written on TTA demonstrate a significant degree of intellectual discipline and creative endurance. To accuse me of "fundamental laziness" is, therefore, an odd thing to say - a kind denial not just of evidence, but reality.     

 

Actual laziness is more likely revealed by vague promises of "one day creating something self-astonishing", just as the safety of anonymity allows one to critique the labour of others without ever exposing one's own work to scrutiny.   

 

 

V. 

 

Ultimately, your text reads less like a diabolically clever critique and more as a conventional strategy typical of those who dismiss systemic realities in favour of individual exceptionalism. When the structural unfairness of an economic system is exposed, the immediate reflex of its beneficiaries is to pathologise the critic - rebranding political awareness of inequality as mere resentment or envy. 

 

In attempting to counter this by naming exceptional historical anomalies like Nelson Mandela and Edith Piaf, you rely entirely on what is known as survivor bias [7]. Unfortunately, simply pointing to a few extraordinary outliers does not disprove the statistical reality that baseline social structures trap the vast majority of people. 

 

You warn intelligent readers to be wary of anyone who uses phrases like in reality - and that is often good advice, as the phrase is frequently abused - but exercising a degree of rhetorical caution does not allow one to flatly deny that a reality exists. 

 

To suggest that simply because a phrase can be used to disguise doxa the underlying material conditions of human life disappear, is a bizarre leap of logic. It allows you to comfortably ignore the brutal, measurable statistics of poverty and structural disadvantage by treating them as mere linguistic disputes.

 

 

VI.

 

You end your commentary with an additional insult aimed my way, a reading of Aesop's story to do with the tortoise and the hare, and a couple more big names dropped - Samuel Beckett and Derek Walcott - just to add a final literary flourish. 

 

Ignoring Walcott if I may, let me first reply to the insult, then move on to the well-known Greek fable, and then, very briefly, say something about Beckett and his idea of failing better ... 

 

(i) 

 

Your assertion that because I do not turn my criticism into self-criticism - "the telos of all genuinely philosophical criticality" - I am therefore "unable or unwilling to acknowledge [my] own bullshit" is a tu quoque fallacy wrapped up in pseudo-Hegelian terminology. 

 

You invoke the word telos to give your argument a fancy intellectual veneer, but the argument itself is merely an attempt to deflect. By declaring that the ultimate goal of philosophy is self-criticism, you attempt to shift the focus away from your own logically flawed positions and put my character on trial once more.

 

But a critique of what Byung-Chul Han calls the burnout society does not require an author to issue a disclaimer admitting that they, too, participate in the market economy. Obviously, I'm implicated in the world I discuss. But to suggest that a writer must tack on a confession of their own personal flaws and failings to every structural analysis before that analysis can be validated is ridiculous. 

 

(ii) 

 

I'm afraid to say, having consulted the text, your reading of 'The Hare and the Tortoise' is a modern piece of revisionism. It's clever and imaginative, but far removed from the original story and to rewrite an ancient animal fable as a journey of self-actualisation is to strip it of textual and historical reality.  

 

You insist the tortoise emerges as the winner not because he beats his opponent per se, but because he remains "faithful to himself, non-stressed, and relentless" and ultimately "overcomes himself". 

 

In other words, the tortoise accepts his own nature, stays calm, and fights his own limits instead of fighting his long-eared rival. He symbolises what we would today call mindfulness and zen focus in a noisy and hectic world. 

 

But that is certainly not how the Ancient Greeks understood the story: they were far more pragmatically-minded and for them, the tortoise wins because he crosses the finish line ahead of an arrogant and complacent adversary; it's a political warning against the dangers of leporine hubris [8].

 

For the Greeks, wasting divinely-given talents and strengths was a severe moral failing that invited cosmic retribution. The tortoise won because the hare self-sabotaged, not because the slow-moving reptile was morally superior due to his resilience, persistence, and perseverance.

 

Ultimately, you admire the tortoise for the same reason you love the underdog: because you - like Aesop - support the slave revolt in morality [9]. 

 

The lesson of his fable for a lower-class Greek was this: if you are weak, you cannot beat the powerful through brute force or speed. You must quietly exploit their arrogance, keep your head down, stay humble, work hard, and keep moving forward while they destroy themselves.

 

(iii) 

 

This desire to turn art into uplifting motivational guff is further exposed by your misuse of Samuel Beckett. To borrow his 'fail again - fail better' idea from Worstward Ho! (1983) in order to celebrate "people who achieve things" is an outrageous move. 

 

Beckett was not auditing a business seminar or offering tips for personal reinvention and to enlist the high priest of mid-century nihilism into your campaign for personal productivity is a masterclass in bad faith. 

 

I refer you to my post of 11 June 2013 in which I write: 

 

"Beckett is absolutely not telling us that if at first we don't succeed, we should try, try again in the hope and expectation that such endurance is bound to pay off. Rather, he's saying that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many times you fail, you will never succeed: that success is not even an option. For we are destined to fail: such is the tragic character of our mortal being. The fact that Beckett affirms this and finds in it a source of darkly comic satisfaction, demonstrates that his is what Nietzsche would term a pessimism of strength." 

 

The post concludes: 

 

"The fact that his words are to be found on a wide variety of motivational posters, mugs, and fridge magnets is something that should cause laughter amongst Beckett enthusiasts. For observing people draw comfort and inspiration from lines they have naively misunderstood is, as one commentator notes, like watching someone innocently throw a stick for their dog, not realising that it is in fact a human shin bone they've just picked up in the park."  

That, dear demon, makes a good place also to end this letter. 

 

With kind regards,

 

SA 

   

 

Notes

 

[1] This image by Fareha Islam illustrated a piece by Michelle Huang titled 'A Letter from the Devil' in The Stuyvesant Spectator, Issue 14, Volume 112 (11 August, 2026). 

      The Stuyvesant Spectator is a bi-weekly newspaper produced by students at Stuyvesant High School in New York City. It was first published in 1915.

 

[2] Interesting that the anonymous critic - who may or may not be a demon (we'll come to this shortly) - should fall back once more on a proverbial saying in order to express themselves. For one of the issues I have with their criticism is precisely that they often substitute common folk wisdom for philosophical insight. 

      The fact that this particular English proverb from the 17th century betrays a suspicion of fine words (i.e., complex language which they believe lacks sincerity and is empty of meaning) is also very telling. They seem to imply that simple words invested with common sense are best - and that actions matter more than any form of speech, which is an unusual (self-loathing) position for a writer to adopt.   

 

[3] John Keating was the character played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society (dir. Peter Weir, 1989), whose unorthodox teaching methods and romantic idealism had tragic results. 

      Keating was the sort of teacher who inspired passion and encouraged free-thinking, but failed to warn his impressionable young students of the risks they were taking (and consequences that would follow) by acting in defiance of authority and convention. The sort of teacher who posed as a rebel having established a well-paid career for himself.   

 

[4] See the comment dated 14 August 2026 attached to the post 'On the Temptation of Christ' (07 Aug 2026). 

 

[5] Obviously, there are differences between early Christian culture and bourgeois society. The former, for example, directs these ideals - conceived as gifts of God's grace or fruits of the Holy Spirit rather than acts of human will or indicators of individual agency - toward spiritual salvation; while the latter ties resilience, persistence, and perseverance to material success, upward mobility, and personal achievement. 

      Over time, however, a fanatic religious work ethic fed directly into middle-class capitalist culture, as famously argued by Max Weber in his classic study of 1905, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. For Weber, Calvinism in particular created the unique mindset necessary for modern capitalism to thrive; the pursuit of wealth was repackaged as a moral calling, transforming hard work into a moral duty (and idleness into a sin).  

 

[6] See Nietzsche, Daybreak, ed. Maudemarie Clark and Brian Leiter, trans. R. J. Hollingdale (Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 105. Nietzsche explicitly calls the blessing of work a covert strategy to suppress the individual. 

      It is worth remembering also that he insists on idleness as the crucial condition from which philosophy is born and sees perseverance as an Asiatic - specifically Chinese - mode of life suitable for "industrious ants". See Daybreak, § 206 (p. 127 in the above edition).   

 

[7] Survivor bias is a form of cognitive and logical error. It occurs when an analysis focuses exclusively on the winners or survivors of a particular process while completely ignoring the vast, nameless cohort of those who failed or perished. D. H. Lawrence became acutely aware of this dynamic when observing the mechanics of American society:

      "It is not till you live in America, and go a little under the surface, that you begin to see how terrible and brutal is the mass of failure that nourishes the roots of the gigantic tree of dollars." See 'Introduction to Bottom Dogs, by Edward Dahlberg', in Introductions and Reviews, ed. N. H. Reeve and John Worthen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 119.

      Ultimately, survivor bias is not merely an intellectual oversight; it is an ideological deception weaponised by the powerful to convince the powerless that systemic barriers can be overcome by sheer force of will and a lot of hard work. The organisers of the National Lottery rely on precisely the same psychological trick: they spotlight a microscopic handful of winners and declare "It could be you", deliberately obscuring the mathematical reality that, for the overwhelming majority of ticket holders, it never will be. 

 

[8] The Greeks also viewed the fable's underlying concept as a logical paradox; how could a slow-moving creature defeat a fast one - was it possible that motion itself was merely an illusion, as the philosopher Zeno argued?  

 

[9] According to early writers like the ancient historian Herodotus, Aesop was an enslaved person on the Greek island of Samos who later gained his freedom.  

 

SIG News 5 Manifesto: A Friendly Deconstruction

SIG Manifesto 

(SIG News 5: September 2026)

 

 

I.

 

The new, bumper edition of SIG News (#5) is out now - arriving two months ahead of its cover date and two weeks ahead of its public launch at the Mausoleum - sorry, Museum - of Youth Culture (see below). Edited by the established team of Russ Bestley, Tim Gibney, Kevin Quinn and Roger Sabin, it assembles an eclectic mix of articles by a disparate group of authors from both within and without the University of the Arts London (UAL). 

 

By deliberately choosing the inky medium of an old-school, limited-run newspaper, SIG's explicit aim is to thumb its nose at mass circulation and the algorithmic curation of the online world. Anyone interested in the history and practice of music- and style-based subcultures is guaranteed to find something to excite them in this issue. 

 

However, it is the ever-changing SIG Manifesto, printed boldly on the back cover, which I invariably read first, and it's this ten-point text that I'd like to discuss - by which I mean deconstruct - here. Let us begin by looking at each point in turn, offering a brief response before building towards a critical overview of a text that functions as a public declaration of the Group's ideology. 

 

Ultimately, we are obliged to ask: does this text genuinely rally readers to radical action, or does it risk encouraging mere repetition of the same old inauthentic busyness [1] and the restless pursuit of novelty? 

 

II.

  

1. We at SIG News decree that the high-street purveyors of plainstream bad dreams dispense nothing more than tribal whorefare. A cavalcade of copycat caricatures and clone-clowns cascade across mediascapes devoid of depth and bereft of breadth.

 

Point 1 playfully, if somewhat aggressively, sets the tone: mock-authoritative, mock-confrontational, and mock-avant-garde, delivered with an over-reliance on alliteration and Situationist-style wordplay. 

 

Strip away the performative hostility, however, and it's a bog-standard critique of the Mainstream Media (MSM). It accuses the latter of lacking both substance and diversity whilst actively exploiting social divisions for profit (tribal whorefare), manufacturing systemic anxiety (bad dreams), and recycling formulaic content (copycat caricatures).

  

2. Scenes should be heard, not spread. 

 

Point 2 of the manifesto posits that for subcultures to remain authentic and flourish, they must foster local, organic connections through live performance, material publications (such as fanzines) and word-of-mouth, rather than engaging in global, digital dissemination. In line with subcultural theory, the statement also suggests that exposure via modern media causes rapid commodification and the loss of a scene's underground edge.

 

Ultimately, there's nothing virtual or viral about SIG News: it demands physical presence. Ironically, however, by demanding scenes remain localised, it inadvertently privileges those living in metropolitan cultural hubs whilst excluding the isolated, provincial outsider, i.e., the sort of poor sod stuck in the sticks or in some shitty seaside town that SIG often seems to champion.

  

 

3. Within the suffocating technological netweb 'DIY-bother' has become the despairing mantra of an autonomous muddleground desperate for something 'more'. 

 

Point 3 suggests that within a restrictive digital infrastructure, autonomous DIY culture has devolved into an exhausting, ineffective, and futile struggle - hence DIY-bother.

 

Whether we like it or not, platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube have successfully co-opted, neutralised, and commercialised creative independence, transforming the radical punk ethos of Do It Yourself into a neoliberal chore that demands constant content creation, algorithmic self-optimisation, and endless self-promotion.

 

Independent creators are left confused, isolated, and trapped on a digital muddleground - profoundly exhausted by the machinery of the burnout society [2], yet desperate for an authentic path forward that doesn't involve feeding the algorithm.

 

 

4. Be impossible, demand the unrealistic.

 

By reversing the famous Situationist slogan from May '68 - Soyez réalistes, demandez l'impossible - this point serves as an update appropriate to the age of capitalist realism [3]. It is a potent mix of defensive absurdism and revolutionary desire for alternatives in an era dominated by the mantra there is no alternative.

 

By becoming-impossible, one becomes capricious and unclassifiable and thus useless to systems that rely on reliable data and predictive modelling. By demanding the unrealistic, one asks for the very things that consumer capitalism cannot commodify or deliver: silence, secrecy, and stillness.

 

   

5. It is absolutely normal to be resolutely on the outside of anything and everything. 

 

Point 5 normalises and validates splendid isolation and magnificent marginalisation, asserting that refusing to belong to any mainstream group, trend, or digital network is a completely valid way to live. 

 

This position is arguably more countercultural than subcultural. For in actively rejecting anything and everything one acknowledges that even the most radical subcultural movements will eventually be compromised, co-opted, and commodified. 

 

However, in affirming such an extreme model of individualistic detachment, it becomes politically problematic for those of a more socialist persuasion who believe that it requires collective power (i.e., solidarity with others) to build lasting alternative structures.  

 

  

6. Inspiration + imagination x application = no sweat.

 

Quite possibly, this is the point I dislike the most. It reads like an uninspired motivational slogan dreamed up by some corporation trying to sound knowledgeable about the creative process. Ironically, it undermines SIG's own depiction of cultural production as involving a good deal of sweat (not to mention blood and tears). Only artificially intelligent machines don't sweat.   

 

If I were to be generous, I might accept that the author of this manifesto is attempting to subvert the capitalist no pain, no gain work mantra. In other words, they might be trying to say that when one is genuinely inspired, creative work ceases to feel like alienated, exhausting labour. 

 

However, by dressing this concept up as a reductive, pseudo-logical mathematical formula they have ended up producing a trite, neoliberal slogan that completely devalues the demanding reality of artistic practice.

 

 

7. Omniformed existences expire with no trace. A feast of spectres amasses. 

 

Jesus! Point 7 reads like gothic poetry as much as cultural theory. Nevertheless, the warning here is stark: if you allow yourself to be shaped entirely by the Matrix, your life will leave no lasting legacy; you will expire with no trace and the world will become haunted by the ghosts of mass-produced human entities who failed to realise their potential or blossom as individuals.

 

Put another way, it's arguing that total conformity leads to a form of spiritual and cultural death and what Mark Fisher would term lost futures.  

 

 

8. Humanarchism is the logical evolutionary step away from total disconnection towards renewed social connection. Unplug, turn off, conjoin in. 

 

Is humanarchism a SIG neologism? At any rate, it's a new word to me; a portmanteau blending humanism and anarchism which suggests that in order to survive the isolating effects of modern digital life, society must evolve a new philosophy that rejects technological control in favour of autonomous (and essentially analogue) human community. 

 

There's no point (and no fun) in being connected to networks if we are physically out of touch not only with other people, but with animals, plants, and objects. We need a form of libidinal materialism born of desire, not merely a new idealism. 

 

Unfortunately, whilst I approve of the necessary update to (and inversion of) Timothy Leary's famous countercultural mantra, I'm not sure humanarchism is the best term for this new philosophy. 

 

Also, one must ask how realistic is this as a solution; by simply instructing people to unplug and turn off the SIG manifestoists assume people can easily walk away from the digital infrastructures that control their jobs, bank accounts, and daily communication and make a nostalgic return to pre-internet socialising [4]. 

 

 

9. Renounce the over-the-counterculture. Spurn the splendour-vendors and venal frontiers. Difference is natural indifference.

 

I like that last sentence: Difference is natural indifference (even if, obviously, I think indifference is a highly stylised pose born of stoicism and dandyism and has nothing natural about it). Indifference, along with several other 'I' terms - irony, insouciance, insincerity - is one of my watchwords here on Torpedo the Ark (TTA). 

 

The starry individual does not care about being noticed or need to be validated. They are secure in their own distinctiveness and completely indifferent to mainstream trends, social media metrics, or corporate attempts to categorise them - and, as the rest of the point makes clear, they have renounced the over-the-counterculture too which all-too-often means pseudo-rebellion and commercialised bullshit sold by splendour-vendors (i.e., hucksters working in the advertising business or those in marketing who wish to build and promote brands).    

 

Of course, again, this sounds good - but it involves the same naive romanticism as we have encountered already; just because you choose to ignore the Matrix it doesn't mean you are outside of it; in capitalist reality, modern data tracking doesn't care if you are indifferent to it; the system still tracks your habits and monetises your lifestyle; it might frame your structural isolation and indifference, for example, as the adoption of a zen attitude (Would you like to buy a yoga mat?)   

  

 

10. Fashion is no more than a fleeting fad. Follow nothing except your shadow. Go forth and amplify. 

 

The SIG Manifesto ends with a tripartite series of slogans intended, one assumes, to inspire readers and incite them to acts of defiant rebellion. 

 

The third - Go forth and amplify - is simply a play on the biblical injunction given initially by God to Adam and Eve (Genesis 1:28) and then later repeated to Noah and his sons (Genesis 9: 7). I suppose it's encouraging us to find our own voices and to speak up (so is again at odds with the ethos of silence and shutting the fuck up promoted on TTA). 

 

The first sentence - Fashion is no more than a fleeting fad - is one that I'm astonished to see in a manifesto born of a university which includes the London College of Fashion as one of its six constituent colleges. Also, as the author of Philosophy on the Catwalk (2011), I am very much of the view that in fashion we can discover "all that men have thought, dreamed, done, and been" [5].

 

As for the fleeting character of fashion - or what we might term after Barthes the logic of fashion - isn't that its beauty and philosophical importance? Lars Svendsen is spot on when he writes: 

 

"Fashion does not have any telos, any final purpose, in the sense of striving for a state of perfection [...] The aim of fashion is rather to be potentially endless, that is it creates new forms and constellations ad infinitum." [6] 

 

This is why, one might suggest, the most interesting writings on fashion have tended to come from our poets and novelists; for "they alone are sufficiently free from its perceived triviality" [7]. 

  

As for the second sentence ... ironically, despite speaking of shadows, it's another essentialist injunction; for it is saying, is it not, be completely self-reliant and look only to your own true self for direction. One of the problems, however, is that Baudrillard powerfully illustrated how in an obscene hyperreal world and an era of total transparency, we have no shadows!  

 

So that's another issue - one of many - for the signatories of the SIG Manifesto to address ...

 

 

III.    

 

We are told to memorise the ten-point SIG Manifesto and ignore it at our peril. 

 

Obviously, this is said humorously - but, somehow, the text doesn't leave us smiling and I suspect that's because it functions primarily as an academic pastiche rather than a viable blueprint for contemporary cultural resistance. 

 

Whilst it accurately diagnoses the exhaustion inherent in a hyper-commodified digital landscape, its structural utility is limited by an outdated binary framework. It posits, for example, an enlightened avant-garde operating from an imaginary external position that ignores how modern capital functions through decentralized, participatory networks. 

 

Consequently, directives to unplug (Point 8) or remain on the Outside (Point 5) overlook the material reality that economic survival and communication are fundamentally embedded in digital infrastructure. Further, by framing resistance as a personal lifestyle choice, the manifesto risks falling into bourgeois individualism and what theorist Mark Fisher termed the privatisation of discontent, effectively atomising opposition rather than fostering collective solidarity.

 

Aesthetically, the wider SIG project draws heavily from historical precedents, specifically 1970s punk fanzines and 1990s culture jamming. The decision to print SIG News as a physical newspaper highlights a deliberate engagement with obsolete media forms, positioning the work closer to an archival art project than a contemporary subcultural critique. 

 

However, viewed through the lens of radical graphic design and visual history, the SIG Manifesto might be said to succeed on its own terms. For while it lacks a coherent political strategy for navigating an algorithmic mediascape and, theoretically, it has more holes than a proverbial piece of Swiss cheese, it functions effectively as a stylish conceptual provocation, illustrating the profound difficulty of offering meaningful resistance today. 

 

 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] Heidegger terms this Geschäftigkeit - a key concept introduced in Sein und Zeit (1927) as a structural component of Dasein's everyday manner of existing; i.e., constantly occupied with the immediate tasks at hand and numerous daily distractions. 

      For Heidegger, this relentless busyness is a coping mechanism; one that allows us to avoid confronting the deeper questions of our existence, including our own mortality. It is closely connected to his concept of Verfallen, wherein the individual tumbles into superficiality and evaluates their life simply by how much they are doing, losing their authentic self in the process. 

 

[2] The phrase Müdigkeitsgesellschaft was used by the philosopher Byung-Chul Han as the title of an essay first published in German in 2010 (the English translation by Erik Butler was published by Stanford University Press in 2015). 

      It might be noted that the term literally translates as fatigue society, but the word burnout - coined in 1970 by the German-born American psychologist Herbert Freudenberger to refer to a state of mental and physical exhaustion - arguably has greater contemporary resonance.     

      Readers who are interested can find a two-part post published on Torpedo the Ark back in November 2021 discussing Han's text: click here to access part one.  

 

[3] The phrase capitalist realism is, of course, forever associated with Mark Fisher; see his book of this title (Zero Books, 2009). The first of a three-part post written on this work published on Torpedo the Ark earlier this year can be accessed by clicking here. 

      In brief, capitalist realism refers to the fact that capitalism is more than an economic arrangement of society or a political ideology; that it has become a singular reality that is so all-encompassing that we mistake it for the natural order or inevitable way of the world. This, in turn, makes alternative models either unimaginable or seem foolish and utopian: 'It's easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism,' as Fisher famously puts it. 

  

[4] It must also be pointed out that in demanding that people gather and collaborate as what D. H. Lawrence would term a democracy of touch, point 8 is at odds with point 5 - remain a singular individual on the outside of everything.

 

[5] Thomas Carlyle, Sartor Resartus, ed. Kerry McSweeney and Peter Sabor, (Oxford University Press, 2008), p. 57. 

      Admittedly, this novel derides those who would make of fashion the basis of all human experience, but, contrary to his own idealism, Carlyle is obliged to concede that clothes do play a crucial role in materially constituting the self.  

 

[6] Lars Svendsen, Fashion: A Philosophy, trans. John Irons, (Reaktion Books, 2006), p. 29.

 

[7] Roland Barthes, 'Language and Clothing', in The Language of Fashion, trans. Andy Stafford, ed. Andy Stafford and Michael Carter, (Berg, 2006), p. 21.  

 

Notes on Mark Fisher's Postcapitalist Desire: Lecture Three

 

Front cover of the Italian edition of Mark Fisher's 

Postcapitalist Desire (2021) [a]

 

 

I.

 

When Mark Fisher asks his students if they have heard of György Lukács and his ideas of reification and totality [b] he is met with a proverbial wall of silence.

 

And, to be fair, who in 2016 would reasonably be expected to be au fait with a long-dead Hungarian Marxist whose major work - History and Class Consciousness - had been published almost 100 years earlier in 1923? 

 

Especially when, according to Fisher's own theory, his students - along with the rest of us - have been completely subsumed by capitalist realism, making the work of thinkers associated with the Frankfurt School - which includes Lukács - feel completely alien and not just dated.   

  

Fisher, however, insists that the above book remains extremely valuable (113) - once one gets to grips with its difficult language (although he concedes that it's "infuriating to read" (112) due to its dense, unyielding Hegelianism). 

 

It is also, says Fisher - keen to parade his acid communist credentials by adopting hippie terminology [c] - an "extremely trippy" (113) book, by which I think he means that it's a work that appears to be written by someone who has taken powerful mind-altering drugs and likely to induce strange effects in the reader. 

 

For Fisher, Lukács describes a world that feels like a hallucination, yet is terrifyingly real; he shatters the illusion that forces us to see the manufactured, exploitative reality of capitalism as the natural condition of man. In other words, his work acts like a psychedelic agent, destabilising the common-sense of capitalist realism. 

 

Far out, man! 

 

 

II.  

 

The best way to understand what Lukács is driving at, argues Fisher, is to read his work in relation to a more recent essay by the feminist scholar Nancy Hartsock. 

 

In 'The Feminist Standpoint' [d], Hartsock performs an act of theoretical translation by taking Lukács's concept of class consciousness and applying it to the field of gender studies, developing in the process what we now know as standpoint theory [e].

 

If, for Lukács, the bourgeoisie cannot (and will not) see the true nature of capitalism because their class privilege depends on maintaining the illusion and only the proletariat has a structural interest in perceiving reality, then, for Hartsock men, as a sex, also view the world through an idealised lens that is blind to the shit that women have to accept and deal with. 

 

It is only the latter who, from their marginalised and subordinate position, are able to form not merely a different perspective, but see things as they really are.

 

In sum: Fisher wants to show his students that desire (and reality) look radically different depending on where you stand in the world. The dominant class mistakes its narrow view for universal truth, while the marginalised see both the illusion and the underlying machinery at work.  

 

That's the theory at least - one that would leave Nietzsche laughing his head off! [f]   

 

III. 

 

For Fisher, standpoint theory is a way to break from postmodern relativism and to ground truth back in material practice. A standpoint is so much more than merely a view or perspective, precisely because it is constructed in material practice and what Fisher calls group consciousness. 

 

And unlike the Titanic, group consciousness can actually be raised - and the higher it's raised, the better you'll feel about yourself. Why? Because you'll be freed from self-responsibility born of bourgeois individualism: 

 

"Once workers realise the problem is capital, not them [...] when women realise the problem is patriarchy, not them [...] then their consciousness has immediately shifted. You feel better! [...] You'll feel relief from the guilt and misery of having to take responsibility for your own life, which you shouldn't have to - despite everything neoliberal propaganda tells us." (119)

 

Obviously, I find this pretty objectionable - not as a liberal keen to defend personal agency, but as a Nietzschean for whom nothing is more contemptible than seeking relief from suffering via the construction of a feel-good philosophy founded upon herd morality [g]. 

 

I understand why it's so important for Fisher's critique of capitalist realism to deconstruct bourgeois individualism and the privatisation of misery, etc. But I find this blame-shifting to external systems problematic to say the least. Nietzsche would identify this anti-capitalist and anti-patriarchal shift as simply another unfolding of the slave revolt in morals; something that ultimately results not in feeling better about yourself, but in hating others.

 

Acid communism may be Fisher's attempt to heal and empower - to raise consciousness among the proletariat - but, unfortunately, it more often than not traps its adherents in a mindset of reaction and ressentiment and ends with fantasies of punishment: "I don't know if anyone ever has fantasies about this - I know I do - about getting very powerful people sent to jail." (127-128)

 

 

IV.

 

I don't want to give the impression that I don't agree with many of the things Fisher says, because, actually, I do. Or, at any rate, I sympathise with some of his points (ironically enough from a shared class standpoint). 

 

For example, I think he's right to say that capitalism always prevents awareness amongst people that they could "live differently and have more control over their own lives" (132). And I think his concern about the mobile phone is spot on; essentially, it's a device designed to endlessly distract and make you available to the imperatives of capitalism anywhere and at any time (134).

 

People think they need a phone "in order to communicate" (135) with other people; that is to say, they need to buy an expensive product in order to relate to (and function within) the world. Fifty years ago, no one would have believed this. But today, this is the "level of domination" at which capital has encroached "on people's minds" (135).   

 

As Fisher concludes: "Nobody makes you own a phone. And if you do own it, nobody makes you go on social media. And, of course, if you're on social media, then you are producing for capitalism." (135-136)  

 

Today, we produce ourselves and we curate our own subjectivity [h]. 

  

 

V.

 

Fisher ends the third of his lectures on postcapitalist desire by reading out a series of passages from Lukács, all of which he seems to agree with; all of which seem rather dated to me. 

 

His hope in reading them aloud is that it makes them clearer: "It's not that I think, having read those out quickly, we can go home happy." (145). 

 

And next week (next post) ... more on consciousness raising and the last days of the working class in a lecture titled 'Union Power and Soul Power'. I've said it before and I'll say it again: we're a long way from Flatline Constructs ... [i] 

 

 

Notes

 

[a] This Italian edition of Fisher's text was trans. by Vincenzo Perna (Minimum Fax, 2022). I will, of course, be reading the original English work, ed. and with an introduction by Matt Colquhoun (Repeater Books 2021). Page references will be given directly in the post. 

 

[b] György Lukács (1885 - 1971) was an influential political philosopher and literary critic whose concepts of reification and class consciousness shaped Western Marxism and inspired members of the Frankfurt School, including Marcuse. 

      By reification Lukács referred to the process in which social relations and institutions are transformed into abstract independent things that take on a life of their own, dominating individuals and preventing them from seeing the underlying realities of capitalism. By totality he refers to the methodological principle that frames society as a dynamic, historically evolving whole in which individual phenomena can only be understood through their relationship to the overarching social system. Interestingly, Lukács uses the latter to critique the former. Fisher thinks both concepts are crucial. 

 

[c] In his attempt to salvage the lost emancipatory desires of the 1960s and '70s counterculture, Fisher - rather embarrassingly - adopts the slang of the time. This strikes me as performative and, as indicated, a bit cringe and he deserves to be gently teased about it. 

      Further, by relying on words like trippy to discuss History and Class Consciousness, Fisher risks trivialising a deeply disciplined, militant text. Lukács was not advocating for a passive, drug-induced distortion of perception, but for a rigorous, collective, organisational awakening. I understand that Fisher views consciousness-raising as a fundamentally psychedelic act and that theory acts like a mind-altering drug, but, on occasions, his acid communism treats critical thinking as if it were all about the vibe.    

 

[d] See Nancy Hartsock, 'The Feminist Standpoint: Developing the Ground for a Specifically Feminist Historical Materialism', in The Feminist Standpoint Revisited and Other Essays (Westview Press, 1998), pp. 105-132.   

 

[e] Standpoint theory (also known as standpoint epistemology) is a philosophical and sociological framework arguing that an individual's social position shapes their understanding of the world. It posits that marginalised groups possess unique, valuable insights into societal power dynamics that dominant groups often miss. 

      Rather surprisingly for someone who has read Nietzsche, Fisher claims that he found standpoint theory mind-blowing when he first encountered it (again, note his irritating use of hippie terminology). This reaction feels somewhat naive. I would suggest that the idea that all knowledge is shaped by a specific viewpoint is what the German philosopher famously called perspectivism. 

      However, if pushed, one might concede that Nietzsche's concept is shaped by his aesthetics, whereas standpoint theory is more political in character. And also, of course, for Nietzsche there is no truth as such - only competing interpretations; standpoint theory, rooted in Marxism, maintains a stubborn commitment to objective truth. It doesn't simply say everyone has their own truth, but that the oppressed have a truer view of reality than their oppressors - which is all very flattering and all very comforting, but false.  

 

[f] See note [e] above for why Nietzsche would find this amusing (philosophically naive and absurd). 

 

[g] Nietzsche being Nietzsche, he can't help taking things to the extreme in the opposite direction and actively affirming the necessity of misery and pain for the achievement of greatness. In an amusing note found in The Will to Power which provides sharp contrast with what Fisher desires, Nietzsche writes: 

      "To those human beings who are of any concern to me I wish suffering, desolation, sickness, ill-treatment, indignities - I wish that they should not remain unfamiliar with profound self-contempt, the torture of self-mistrust, the wretchedness of the vanquished: I have no pity for them, because I wish them the only thing that can prove today whether one is worth anything or not - that one endures."

      See The Will to Power, ed. Walter Kaufmann, trans. Walter Kaufmann and R. J. Hollingdale (Vintage Books, 1968), Book IV, § 910, p. 481.   

 

[h] This is essentially Byung-Chul Han's argument in The Burnout Society (Stanford University Press, 2015). This English translation by Erik Butler is based on the original German text titled Müdigkeitsgesellschaft (Matthes & Seitz Verlag, 2010). I have written a two-part post on this work; part one of which (published 7 November 2021) can be accessed by clicking here.   

      As far as I'm aware, Fisher never directly cites Han's work. However, there is significant overlap between his analysis of neoliberal society and contemporary culture and that given us by the South Korean-German philosopher and because of this commentators frequently group their books together (although I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate or advantageous to either thinker). 

 

[i] Flatline Constructs was Fisher's PhD thesis submitted at the University of Warwick in 1999. It was published by Repeater Books in 2025, with a Foreword by Adam Jones. I think it's my favourite work by Fisher and I have written a series of posts on it: click here. 

      For me, there's a real pathos of distance between that work and the lectures in Postcapitalist Desire, although some of his followers insist that there is a strong, underlying level of intellectual (and structural) continuity. I'll let readers decide on that question.  

 

 

On Negative Capability

John Keats (1817) paraphrased by Stephen Alexander (2024)

 

 

I. 

 

In a letter written to his brothers George and Thomas, in December 1817 [1], the English Romantic poet Keats briefly mentions a concept of Negative Capability - an idea by which he privileges uncertainty, indecision, and the refusal to rush to judgement. 

 

The great writer, he says, is one who is happy to have his doubts and to consider the complexity of a question from multiple perspectives, rather than quickly make up his mind. One retains one's freedom and affirms one's liberalism - and one avoids the mark of Cain - by refusing to know for sure.

 

For to know decisively and with precision is to kill; it is not simply to exercise choice between ideas, but to cut all other possibilities dead in order to arrive at a single fixed position.

 

 

II. 

 

Obviously, Keats being Keats, for him negative capability was esentially tied to the pursuit of beauty, even if that resulted from - or resulted in - ambiguity and irrationalism. But the idea has since been appropriated and developed by other writers, including the Zen philosopher Byung-Chul Han, for example, who has written:  

"Negative potentiality is the ability to do nothing. The latter is, however, not identical with the inability to do something. It is not a negation of positive potential but a potential of its own. It enables spirit to engage in still, contemplative lingering, that is, deep attentiveness." [2]

 

As sympathetic to all this as I am, I would still like to stop procrastinating and finish writing that fucking Sex Pistols essay ...! [3]

 

 

Notes

 

[1] This letter - with explanatory notes - can be found on the George Mason University website: click here.

 

[2] Byung Chul-Han, Non-things, trans. Daniel Steuer (Polity Press, 2022), p. 82. 

 

[3] See the post entitled 'Procrastination' (14 June 2024): click here. This post is written in response to the comment left by Simon Solomon.  

In Anticipation of and Reflections on a Post-Punk Salon (with Dorothy Max Prior and Richard Cabut)

 

 

In Anticipation of a Post-Punk Salon 

 

This looks like, sounds like, good fun, don't you think? 

 

Regrettably, I don't know Dorothy Max Prior and haven't read her book - 69 Exhibition Road: Twelve True-Life Tales from the Fag End of Punk, Porn & Performance (MIT Press, 2023) - which, according to the publishers' blurb, is a 'vibrant, wry, and engaging account of life as an adventurous, queer young person in late 1970s London discovering themselves as an artist, and an individual'. 

 

However, I do (sort of) know Richard Cabut and have read his book - Looking for a Kiss (Sweat Drenched Press, 2020); a true story based on lies (and vice versa), set in post-punk London and featuring a couple adrift in a world of sex, drugs, and the im/possibility of dreams in a time of nihilism. 

 

Cabut - then writing under the name of Richard North - was the man who coined the term positive punk, about which I have written previously on Torpedo the Ark: click here. 

 

I completely agree with him that, initially, punk was a defiant and stylish response to the boredom of everyday life. However, whereas he also sees punk as a quest for truth and meaning, I see it as a playful (but nonetheless violent) deconstruction of these and related ideals. 

 

Still, there's no reason why such differences should prevent us being on friendly terms ... And so I look forward to meeting him this evening at this post-punk salon; as I do Ms Prior, who is 100% correct to say that punk - as conceived by McLaren and Westwood - was primarily conceptual and performance art, rather than "just another chapter in the history of rock 'n' roll" [1]. 

 

 

Reflections on a Post-Punk Salon 

 

Well, as anticipated, that was fun! 

 

Sean McLusky's got himself a nice new space just off Tin Pan Alley and this event was far more enjoyable than the Crass book launch at the Horse Hospital last month. I may not be a fan of positive punk, but it's surely preferable to militant asceticism and I would rather spend an evening with Cabut and Prior than Rimbaud and Vaucher [2]. 

 

And that's true even though Cabut's fictional self (Robert) clearly misunderstands that punk nihilism was, in fact, a joyous and active negation of the negative. He, Robert, finds the chaos of punk as lived experience almost unbearable and is petrified at the thought of the ruins [3]. The fact that Cabut chose to echo this fear on the night was disappointing. 

 

As for Ms Prior, she seemed very nice and she has certainly had an interesting life and career. Unfortunately, she remains politically naive in her sex radicalism and the belief that punk, porn, and art not only empower and liberate, but present a real challenge to the established order. 

 

She informed her audience that the punk attitude can be summed up by the phrase just do it. But that's an upbeat, aspirational slogan associated more with Nike [4] than the Sex Pistols, is it not? 

 

And it's the motto also of what Byung-Chul Han terms Müdigkeitsgesellschaft - i.e., a society characterised by an incessant (and ultimately exhausting) compulsion to perform and achieve [5]. Contrast this positive imperative with Malcolm McLaren's instructing us to destroy success. 

 

Still, putting these things to one side, it was a well-organised and enjoyable event and there were some interesting people and colourful characters present; none more so than Cuban cigar-smoking punk dandy Algernon Aloysius St. John-Cholmondeley-Featherstonehaugh, who dispensed wit, wisdom, and matches with great aplomb. 

 

 

Notes 

 

[1] Dorothy Max Prior, speaking in an interview with Lene Cortina on the excellent blog Punk Girl Diaries (12 March 2018): click here. 

 

[2] I would remind those who organised the event with Crass at the Horse Hospital that, as a rule, it's always a good idea to provide seating and drinks for your guests; particularly when charging an entrance fee and promoting a book priced at £50 a pop. Best also to allow them plenty of opportunity to chat and mingle freely. Nobody, apart from the most committed of Crass fans, really wants to be crammed into a small space and forced to stand for well over an hour whilst being lectured on how the revolution might have succeeded, if only ... by an 80-year-old Penny Rimbaud. See the post 'Crass By Name ...' (12 April 2024): click here. 

 

[3] See pp. 77-78 of Richard Cabut's Looking for a Kiss (Sweat Drenched Press, 2020). Note that Cabut was reading from the revised and extended edition of his novel, published by PC Press (2023), featuring new text, photos and artwork. 

 

[4] Just Do It is a trademarked tagline of sports shoe company Nike, coined in 1988 by the advertising executive Dan Wieden, inspired, he says, by Gary Gilmore, who is alleged to have said 'Let's do it' shortly before his execution for murder in January 1977. 

 

[5] See Byung-Chul Han, The Burnout Society, trans. Erik Butler (Stanford University Press, 2015). The original German text, entitled Müdigkeitsgesellschaft, was published in Berlin by Matthes & Seitz Verlag (2010). 

      I published a two-part post on this work for Torpedo the Ark on 7 November 2021. Click here to read part one - 'On Neuronal Power to Vita Activa' - and/or here to read part two - 'From the Pedagogy of Seeing to Burnout Society'.

 

 

On the Rise of the Useful Idiot

 Adapted from the poster for I Am Greta

(a documentary film dir. Nathan Grossman, 2020)

 

I. 

 

Byung-Chul Han says that the idiot has all but vanished from our society. But Han is not using the term idiot in its familiar modern sense (i.e., to refer to a stupid person). 

 

Rather, he's returning to the ancient Greek term from which it derives - ἰδιώτης - which refers to a private individual who prefers to think their own thoughts rather than simply subscribe to common sense or conform to popular opinion (even at the risk of appearing ignorant or foolish). 

 

For Han, the idiot is thus a type of outsider or heretic; not so much uninformed as unaligned with any party or cause; someone who values freedom and opposes the violence of consensus [1]. The idiot, in brief, is the kind of person attracted to philosophy, a practice born - like psychology - of idleness and characterised - like art - by its uselessness [2].   

 

 

II.

 

Unfortunately, however, there's more than one type of idiot in this world.

 

And if the type of useless philosophical idiot privileged by Byung-Chul Han has all but vanished from contemporary society, the political idiot who prides themselves on their allegiance to a cause, party, or ideology and happily makes themselves useful to such is, it seems, proliferating in number ...

 

Some commentators may clutch their pearls - or even reach for the smelling salts - when they hear the term useful idiot [3], but it's a widely accepted term within political discourse [4] to refer to someone who believes they are fighting for a just cause and have history on their side, without fully appreciating the consequences of their actions or the extent to which they are being cynically manipulated by nefarious forces.  

 

Many supporters of Extinction Rebellion, or Black Lives Matter, or those we currently see larping for Palestine on streets and campuses across the Western world, are probably well-intentioned idealists; i.e., perfectly sincere in their views, but they are politically naive to the point that idiocy hardly even covers it; closing their eyes to reality and shutting their ears to reason, they unwittingly assist in the destruction of their own culture, history, and society.   

 

Notes

 

[1] See Byung-Chul Han, Psychopolitics: Neoliberalism and New Technologies of Power, trans. Erik Butler, (Verso, 2017). And see also the post 'On Heresy and Philosophical Idiotism' (20 Nov 2021): click here. 

 

[2] Nietzsche famously asserts in Twilight of the Idols (1889) that idleness is the beginning of psychology (and is therefore the result of vice). 

      Oscar Wilde, meanwhile, writing in a Preface to his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890) claimed: "All art is quite useless." He later explained in a letter what he meant by this: "Art is useless because its aim is simply to create a mood. It is not meant to instruct, or to influence action in any way." Similarly, philosophy is simply intended to open up a space for thinking - nothing else. Wilde's letter can be read in full here. 

 

[3] For those gentle souls who prefer a slightly less harsh-sounding term, it might be noted that some commentators speak of useful innocents, whilst those within the intelligence community apparently refer to unwitting agents.

 

[4] Frequently used during the Cold War to describe those susceptible to communist propaganda and manipulation, the phrase useful idiot was (ironically but mistakenly) attributed to Lenin by the Russian human rights activist and Soviet dissident Vladimir Bukovsky. Lenin may have liked to use it, but he certainly didn't coin it, and nor is it found in any of his writings.

 

 

Objects Make Happy

Taffy From the Objects Make Happy series

 (SA/2024) [1]

 

 

I. 

 

At the heart of Graham Harman's object-oriented philosophy is the notion of allure.

 

Allure, says Harman, is something that "exists in germinal form in all reality, including the inanimate sphere" [2] and is the key to all causation. 

 

Allure is the way that objects - which are fundamentally withdrawn  - signal to one another from across the void: "Allure is the presence of objects to each other in absent form." [3] 

 

I love that sentence and love this (rather ghostly) theory. 

 

We may never be able to know an object in itself (i.e., in the fullness of its reality), but we can still come into touch with them and they can still affect us in a variety of ways, not always positively or in a manner that is beneficial to us; I have written elsewhere about the malevolent aspect of objects and what Byung-Chul Han terms the villainy of things [click here]. 

 

But, more often than not, they make happy, which is why when I think of happiness I think of objects [4].  

 

 

II.

 

The feminist writer and critical theorist Sara Ahmed - author of The Cultural Politics of Emotion (2004) - has a fascinating take on happiness and objects in terms of affect theory. 

 

According to Ahmed, there is a sustained (and sticky) connection between our emotions and objects and it's important to realise that happiness, for example, "starts from somewhere other than the subject" [5]. 

 

In other words, to feel happy is to be randomly (but intimately) touched by something; it comes from outside; it's an inner state triggered by external objects (which may include other people, or cats, but which also includes plants, stars, and ideas). Ultimately, happiness is contingent, not essential [6].

 

Of course, as Ahmed points out, as we change over time - as our bodies age, for example - "the world around us will create different impressions" [7] and what makes happy one day may no longer be experienced as so delightful the next; Locke famously talks of the man who loves and then no longer loves grapes [8].

 

Having said that, some objects hold our affection and bring joy across an entire lifetime; I can't imagine a time when Taffy, pictured above, wouldn't make me feel happy. 

 

 

Notes 

 

[1] This charming clay figure, about 9-inches in height, is one I inherited from my mother and whom she named Taffy (presumably because the hat reminded her of traditional Welsh dress). Originally, it contained a small candle which, when lit, illuminated the eyes and mouth in the darkness. It made her happy and it makes me happy. 

      Of course, some will suggest that it's because the object belonged to my mother and reminds me of her that this is why it makes happy. However, whilst this certainly adds to its affective value, I don't think that's the whole story.

 

[2] Graham Harman, Guerrilla Metaphysics: Phenomenology and the Carpentry of Things (Open Court, 2005), p. 244.  

 

[3] Ibid., p. 246.

 

[4] All too often, cultural theorists and philosophers like to investigate negative feelings such as shame, disgust, fear, hate, etc. But it's surely just as valid - and just as vital - to investigate more positive feelings, such as happiness. I agree with Nietzsche's counter-Christian teaching that ethical behaviour is the result of happiness (not vice versa) which is why it makes sense to surround oneself with the objects (be they beautiful or otherwise) that make happy.

 

[5] Sara Ahmed, 'Happy Objects', The Affect Theory Reader, ed. Melissa Gregg and Gregory J. Seigworth (Duke University Press, 2010), pp. 29-51. The line quoted is on p. 29. 

 

[6] As Ahmed reminds us, "the etymology of 'happiness' relates precisely to the question of contingency: it is from the Middle English 'hap', suggesting chance". See 'Happy Objects', The Affect Theory Reader, p. 30. 

 

[7] Sara Ahmed, 'Happy Objects', The Affect Theory Reader, p. 31. 

 

[8] See John Locke, 'Of Modes of Pleasure and Pain', Chapter XX in Book II of An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (dated 1690 but first pubished in 1689).