Showing posts with label buttlords. Show all posts
Showing posts with label buttlords. Show all posts
11.8.15
17.11.14
The Wayne Factor
In the beginning of the 20th century Sigmund Freud proposed a theory in which a man would subconsciously want to kill his father and have sex with his mother. This was called the Oedipus Complex, named after the famous myth of Oedipus Rex, and was a cornerstone of psychoanalysis and, in turn, a building block that makes up contemporary society as informed through pop culture. I believe that we have entered a new paradigm, that in which a man wants to both be Batman whilst having his father as Batman. This is called the Wayne Factor.
The Wayne Factor is a more concentrated idea of Freud’s in that it examines the particular personalities of people who divulge in media starring Batman. It is estimated roughly 95% of the American population know who Batman is. Unlike Jesus or even Father Christmas, Batman transcends cultural and theological borders. Part of Batman’s success is in his name. Without even seeing him, you can image a man that is, at least in some way, like a bat and it is this whimsical image that makes him well known. With billions spent on superhero films every year, Batman is perhaps the most popular with Joe Q. Public who prefers his humanity moreso than that of the Ubermensch from Krypton, Superman. Iron Man and Captain America are both human and therefore popular, and so far it appears as though the superhero films contain relatively little superpowers when compared to their comic book counterparts. Instead they are films about men struggling for identity and deciding on becoming a hero, and exploring that theme ad nauseum. Yet who can really say they identify with either being a hero or wanting to be heroic? It is less the concept of what heroism means to the modern man than it is that these heroes can be idolised as potential saviours for those that need it. This anxiety stems from wanting to be rescued by one of your parents as a child and them failing you, which is one of the first steps in separating the concept of a parent from the person that is your parent. The conceptual parent then becomes an idol in which faith is applied to, which is common in religious people. I suspect religion itself came about due to the strong biological link between parent and child brought about by the helplessness of newborns compared to that of almost every other animal on the planet. In the life of an adult a child is a novelty, although to a child the parent is godlike. If a parent should fail their child, the child will then seek a new figure. For thousands of years this desire was manifest in a pantheon of gods. Now it has become Batman.
Consider Batman. Upon the death of both parents, billionaire Bruce Wayne trains all of his life and dons an animimal costume in order to fight criminals from a working class background. It is the costume itself that makes Batman who he is. This costume or ‘bat-persona’ is in order to mask the true identity of the wearer and so, by becoming anonymous, allows the potential in which Batman could be anyone. Fans of Batman often like to imagine themselves as Batman, perched on a tall building dressed in a cape, their muscular bodies protected against the battering rain by a second skin of body armour. At the same time they may imagine themselves victims of crimes and Batman arrives to save them. In the phantasy of the films this is Batman’s most useful skill, his ability to save people and in doing so he becomes a paragon of masculinity. If we consider a few attributes that we would consider masculine, such as physical strength, emotional resilience, fecundity and so on we can also see that these are attributes desirable for a father. It is the parental attributes of Batman that people probably find most appealing, hence his popularity amongst those who have difficult relationships with their own fathers. They love nothing more than settling into a folding-down seat with a box of popcorn, watching Batman loom over them in glorious 3D for hours at a time, trying to ignore the desperate need to be loved by an older man.
This brings us to the psychosexual elements of Batman. It is a common idea that Batman is a gay man, having sex with Robin at regular intervals in the batcave. Why not? I feel as though the idea of Batman being gay is so intrinsically tied to the metanarrative of Batman that this leads to a simple conclusion. The Wayne Factor of a person shows their inclination to desire sexual intercourse with their father whilst also being their own father, in order to have sexual intercourse with their mother. Also that during these acts, both parents are dead. The incestuous love triangle is complete and in the centre is Batman,
slowly rotating,
face hidden in the shadows,
his body pulses.
The Wayne Factor is a more concentrated idea of Freud’s in that it examines the particular personalities of people who divulge in media starring Batman. It is estimated roughly 95% of the American population know who Batman is. Unlike Jesus or even Father Christmas, Batman transcends cultural and theological borders. Part of Batman’s success is in his name. Without even seeing him, you can image a man that is, at least in some way, like a bat and it is this whimsical image that makes him well known. With billions spent on superhero films every year, Batman is perhaps the most popular with Joe Q. Public who prefers his humanity moreso than that of the Ubermensch from Krypton, Superman. Iron Man and Captain America are both human and therefore popular, and so far it appears as though the superhero films contain relatively little superpowers when compared to their comic book counterparts. Instead they are films about men struggling for identity and deciding on becoming a hero, and exploring that theme ad nauseum. Yet who can really say they identify with either being a hero or wanting to be heroic? It is less the concept of what heroism means to the modern man than it is that these heroes can be idolised as potential saviours for those that need it. This anxiety stems from wanting to be rescued by one of your parents as a child and them failing you, which is one of the first steps in separating the concept of a parent from the person that is your parent. The conceptual parent then becomes an idol in which faith is applied to, which is common in religious people. I suspect religion itself came about due to the strong biological link between parent and child brought about by the helplessness of newborns compared to that of almost every other animal on the planet. In the life of an adult a child is a novelty, although to a child the parent is godlike. If a parent should fail their child, the child will then seek a new figure. For thousands of years this desire was manifest in a pantheon of gods. Now it has become Batman.
Consider Batman. Upon the death of both parents, billionaire Bruce Wayne trains all of his life and dons an animimal costume in order to fight criminals from a working class background. It is the costume itself that makes Batman who he is. This costume or ‘bat-persona’ is in order to mask the true identity of the wearer and so, by becoming anonymous, allows the potential in which Batman could be anyone. Fans of Batman often like to imagine themselves as Batman, perched on a tall building dressed in a cape, their muscular bodies protected against the battering rain by a second skin of body armour. At the same time they may imagine themselves victims of crimes and Batman arrives to save them. In the phantasy of the films this is Batman’s most useful skill, his ability to save people and in doing so he becomes a paragon of masculinity. If we consider a few attributes that we would consider masculine, such as physical strength, emotional resilience, fecundity and so on we can also see that these are attributes desirable for a father. It is the parental attributes of Batman that people probably find most appealing, hence his popularity amongst those who have difficult relationships with their own fathers. They love nothing more than settling into a folding-down seat with a box of popcorn, watching Batman loom over them in glorious 3D for hours at a time, trying to ignore the desperate need to be loved by an older man.
This brings us to the psychosexual elements of Batman. It is a common idea that Batman is a gay man, having sex with Robin at regular intervals in the batcave. Why not? I feel as though the idea of Batman being gay is so intrinsically tied to the metanarrative of Batman that this leads to a simple conclusion. The Wayne Factor of a person shows their inclination to desire sexual intercourse with their father whilst also being their own father, in order to have sexual intercourse with their mother. Also that during these acts, both parents are dead. The incestuous love triangle is complete and in the centre is Batman,
slowly rotating,
face hidden in the shadows,
his body pulses.
22.5.14
The Aesthetics of Fail Videos
Now so more than ever moments are caught on glass retinas, recorded, uploaded, observed. The culmination of this technology are short films in which people are injured then edited together into a ten minute compilation video titled 'Fails of the week'. Like 19th century optograms, the sight and sound of people losing control of their bodies is watched after the fact by hundreds of thousands of people, cheering and laughing in the near future. I find them to be of cultural value, the aesthetics of each video has a certain quality that is so far removed from reality and cinema it lends itself more to a dream.
Each snapshot is captured from the point of view of an observer, although occasionally the victim is holding the camera. The accidents vary in violence and banality, although most feature an urban setting, often involving human powered vehicles, such as roller skates, falling afoul of architecture and Newton's laws of motion. There is often a cosiness about the background, they are the places people go to have fun. American streets, ski-resorts, boats, sport days, the family home, out in nature. Each serve as the scene of a potentially lethal accident, through the lack of foresight in an individual or insane luck. The accidents themselves have a painlessness about them, even though the footage is caught in eye bleeding high definition the video cuts off soon after. We don't get to see the consequences of the acts. They are bloodless, there is little emotional response to the accident besides shock. We don't see the interior of hospitals where mothers sit in empty rooms drinking coffee, looking at the setting sun with faces dried by tears. Whilst watching this malarky we are jet around the world as it is today. The fashion technology people could be the same as the one's standing outside your door (waiting for you), although we are taken to such exotic locations as Russia or America. This is a version of the world away from news channels, as polished television drama, as documentary footage and so on. It is a window into a world that is normal to those in it, yet becomes increasingly alien as time goes on.
The viewers of these videos dub themselves 'The Fail Army', who scour the digital globe for the juiciest accidents and attacks for splicing. These vulgar nerds respond to accusations of sadism that what they are doing is slapstick and light-hearted, suggesting that for the video to be uploaded in the first place that there was an element of consent, an acknowledgement of survival. Not only is it amusing, it is inspiring how the human body reacts to falling down a flight of stairs or being hit by a tree whilst riding a motorbike. We are a durable species, it reminds us that the world isn't necessarily safe, yet that in itself can be overcome. Yet there is still an antiseptic nature to the videos. Though the event happened, the viewer is watching it remotely from the safety of a chair. The end result is still the simulation of violence rather than being in any actual risk. There is a sub-sect of 'The Fail Army' who call themselves 'The Pain Lords'. This group has a much more misanthropic view of the world. They spend hours collecting the screams of pain and making them into bizarre soundscapes they listen to in their sleep. They hang around accident black spots with night vision cameras, giggling to themselves as they wait for the next car containing a family to wrap itself round a tree. They watch snuff films on their phones as they ride public transport, not caring that the people around them are torn between curiosity and disgust. 'The Fail Army' is trying to distance itself from these sociopaths, yet they do have the best taste when it comes to selecting footage for the annual 'Fails of the Year' videos.
It is empathy that makes the videos worth watching. Is it more valuable to place yourself as the cameraman at a distance, or as the victim of the accident, imagining your vision spinning as your head tumbles over a fluctuating centre of gravity? To imagine the smack of concrete against an elbow or having a metal fence rammed between your legs brings out a more satisfying enjoyment of the videos. That way when the day comes in which you suffer a horrible accident, you will have already felt it a thousand times before. And maybe somebody will be filming you as it is happening.
9.8.13
Who Cares About Zombies Anyway
Have you ever wondered to yourself "What would I do if zombies were real?" or maybe even "I would like to kill hundreds of people with the excuse that they are zombies?"
Well wonder no longer! Ex-special forces soldier and entrepeneur Randy Shepard has combined zombies, paintballing, camping and a high ropes course to provide an action-packed weekend for anyone willing to shell out £200 for the privelidge of ambling through the ten acre estate home to 'Zombie Land', Britain's first zombie themed theme park.
"I had the idea whilst watching Dawn Of The Dead. Got me thinking, what would I do in case zombies attacked? Would I be prepared? What would it feel like? After looking round on the web for a while I found out there were a few other folk with the same idea as me. Hell, some had been thinking about it a lot!" says Randy as we drive in the jeep through Zombie Land. I nod. It has crossed my mind as to what I would do if zombies were real, though I admit on a more conceptual level. Randy Shepard had took the teenage fantasy of killing your friends and neighbours and turned it into a money spinner. We enter a forest and stop. I ask him what exactly people are paying for when they arrive at Zombie Land.
"Well, the two hundred gets you into Zombie Land. You bring your own kit, whatever that may be, and try to 'survive' the weekend. We've hired hundreds of actors to wander around in full costume to be zombies. They follow you round, moan a bit, if they catch you, you turn into a zombie. We have a couple of cabins spread out, even a little shopping mall I'm having built up by that hill over there."
"Isn't it dangerous for the actors?"
"Not at all. They have on some body armour, the guns we give visitors are just paintball guns with a little extra oomph if you know what I mean. More splatter effects."
"But what if any of them get punched, stabbed, have their heads cut off, that sort of thing?" I say, looking at the trees around us.
"We don't allow any blades, that's rule numero uno, okay? We have a full medical crew on site in case anyone gets hit with a bit of wood, but to be honest we encourage visitors to run rather than fight." shrugs Randy. He gets out to urinate against a plastic skeleton and we set off again.
"But surely the whole point of the weekend is that you can attack the zombies?"
"Well let me worry about the zombies, why don't you worry about the visitors?" laughs Randy. We are driving towards one of the cabins Randy has built. A few visitors are there at the moment, surrounded by a horde of zombies. I admit, it looks quite realistic! The zombies makeup has been done by Industrial Light and Magic, the studio responsible for bringing Yoda to life and making Jurassic Park a good memory for many children that currently exist. I walk through the moaning zombies and up towards the door.
"Hey! Get in here man!" says a visitor. His face is covered in muck and his clothes filthy. He reaches a hand out through the door and pulls me in before I have chance to respond.
"What are you doing out there? Damn walkers are going to get ya." he says in an American accent.
"I'm doing a story on Zombie Land, I wondered if I could ask you a few questions?"
"Not right now man, we need all the help we can get!" he shouts. A woman runs in.
"They've breached the windows! We gotta get out of here!"
"Quick, help me pull this bookcase!" says the man, running over to a large bookcase and struggling with it. I shake my head and leave through the door again, closing it behind me. One of the zombies mimes biting me and I nod at him, feeling slightly self-conscious.
"Thanks. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about working as a zombie?"
"Urghhh." he moans in a Liverpudlian accent. I make my way back to Randy.
"I hope I didn't spoil the scene for them. They seem pretty in character."
"They love it! Get's the blood pumping. You know, every visitor we've had here so far has come back the week after? I'm thinking of building a hotel just outside the site so people can come from all over the world."
"Aren't you worried that this is just a passing fad? There were serial killers in the eighties, mutants in the nineties, zombies and spooky kids last decade. What if this time around it's giant mummy's or shape-shifters?" I ask.
"Zombies are here to stay man. As it's not just zombies you know? People can feel it. The world's coming to an end."
"People have been thinking the world's going to end for centuries though." I say. The jeep is now driving through the forest. Randy lights a cigar and looks at me through his aviator sunglasses.
"That they have. And people like you will be thinking that we're all talking a load of BS when the world actually does end."
"But look at the amount of times in history it appeared as if the world was ending, yet didn't. The amount of films and books in the last forty or so years about apocalypses is just a continuation of the belief system instilled throughout religions since the first people, that being it's a fascination of the end, of death, and how we come to terms with it. And if possible, survive it. Any post-apocalyptic fiction is the post-modern equivalent of an after life. They are but a series of limbos at varying degrees of a world without technology combined with justifiable violence. I imagine that when anyone talks about the world ending that they believe that they will survive somehow."
"But I am not talking about the end of the world in the sense of a post-apocalyptic fantasy, but the steady downfall of humans through environmental change over the next century. This park's existence, or rather, that of the zombie fantasy is a way of coming to terms with death, I agree. I am not suggesting that people will survive the oncoming apocalypse, quite the opposite. Most visitors don't survive this weekend. It allows them to perceive there own death in a much healthier manner than vague dreams of danger in which they themselves invariably survive." says Randy. The jeep has pulled to a stop in the middle of a field.
"My family is buried here. Somewhere, I'm not sure exactly. But in this field. As are the bones of a hundred other animals that I am distantly related to, all the way back to the dinosaurs. You think the dinosaurs worried about the end of the world? And when it came about, did they hope? Or did they breathe in the ashes?"
"Your family is buried here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Well...in case the end of the world does happen to be zombies, I want to be the first to kill them." says Randy, pulling back his coat to reveal a pistol tucked into his trousers.
"You know what's better than regular zombies? Voodoo zombies. You should do a theme park based around that." I said, nodding at him as I get back into the jeep and drive away. All the talk about zombies and apocalypses has give me the urge to watch 'The Bridges Of Madison County', or perhaps 'Before Sunrise'. I hadn't yet decided, but I knew that I had both on blu-ray.
Well wonder no longer! Ex-special forces soldier and entrepeneur Randy Shepard has combined zombies, paintballing, camping and a high ropes course to provide an action-packed weekend for anyone willing to shell out £200 for the privelidge of ambling through the ten acre estate home to 'Zombie Land', Britain's first zombie themed theme park.
"I had the idea whilst watching Dawn Of The Dead. Got me thinking, what would I do in case zombies attacked? Would I be prepared? What would it feel like? After looking round on the web for a while I found out there were a few other folk with the same idea as me. Hell, some had been thinking about it a lot!" says Randy as we drive in the jeep through Zombie Land. I nod. It has crossed my mind as to what I would do if zombies were real, though I admit on a more conceptual level. Randy Shepard had took the teenage fantasy of killing your friends and neighbours and turned it into a money spinner. We enter a forest and stop. I ask him what exactly people are paying for when they arrive at Zombie Land.
"Well, the two hundred gets you into Zombie Land. You bring your own kit, whatever that may be, and try to 'survive' the weekend. We've hired hundreds of actors to wander around in full costume to be zombies. They follow you round, moan a bit, if they catch you, you turn into a zombie. We have a couple of cabins spread out, even a little shopping mall I'm having built up by that hill over there."
"Isn't it dangerous for the actors?"
"Not at all. They have on some body armour, the guns we give visitors are just paintball guns with a little extra oomph if you know what I mean. More splatter effects."
"But what if any of them get punched, stabbed, have their heads cut off, that sort of thing?" I say, looking at the trees around us.
"We don't allow any blades, that's rule numero uno, okay? We have a full medical crew on site in case anyone gets hit with a bit of wood, but to be honest we encourage visitors to run rather than fight." shrugs Randy. He gets out to urinate against a plastic skeleton and we set off again.
"But surely the whole point of the weekend is that you can attack the zombies?"
"Well let me worry about the zombies, why don't you worry about the visitors?" laughs Randy. We are driving towards one of the cabins Randy has built. A few visitors are there at the moment, surrounded by a horde of zombies. I admit, it looks quite realistic! The zombies makeup has been done by Industrial Light and Magic, the studio responsible for bringing Yoda to life and making Jurassic Park a good memory for many children that currently exist. I walk through the moaning zombies and up towards the door.
"Hey! Get in here man!" says a visitor. His face is covered in muck and his clothes filthy. He reaches a hand out through the door and pulls me in before I have chance to respond.
"What are you doing out there? Damn walkers are going to get ya." he says in an American accent.
"I'm doing a story on Zombie Land, I wondered if I could ask you a few questions?"
"Not right now man, we need all the help we can get!" he shouts. A woman runs in.
"They've breached the windows! We gotta get out of here!"
"Quick, help me pull this bookcase!" says the man, running over to a large bookcase and struggling with it. I shake my head and leave through the door again, closing it behind me. One of the zombies mimes biting me and I nod at him, feeling slightly self-conscious.
"Thanks. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about working as a zombie?"
"Urghhh." he moans in a Liverpudlian accent. I make my way back to Randy.
"I hope I didn't spoil the scene for them. They seem pretty in character."
"They love it! Get's the blood pumping. You know, every visitor we've had here so far has come back the week after? I'm thinking of building a hotel just outside the site so people can come from all over the world."
"Aren't you worried that this is just a passing fad? There were serial killers in the eighties, mutants in the nineties, zombies and spooky kids last decade. What if this time around it's giant mummy's or shape-shifters?" I ask.
"Zombies are here to stay man. As it's not just zombies you know? People can feel it. The world's coming to an end."
"People have been thinking the world's going to end for centuries though." I say. The jeep is now driving through the forest. Randy lights a cigar and looks at me through his aviator sunglasses.
"That they have. And people like you will be thinking that we're all talking a load of BS when the world actually does end."
"But look at the amount of times in history it appeared as if the world was ending, yet didn't. The amount of films and books in the last forty or so years about apocalypses is just a continuation of the belief system instilled throughout religions since the first people, that being it's a fascination of the end, of death, and how we come to terms with it. And if possible, survive it. Any post-apocalyptic fiction is the post-modern equivalent of an after life. They are but a series of limbos at varying degrees of a world without technology combined with justifiable violence. I imagine that when anyone talks about the world ending that they believe that they will survive somehow."
"But I am not talking about the end of the world in the sense of a post-apocalyptic fantasy, but the steady downfall of humans through environmental change over the next century. This park's existence, or rather, that of the zombie fantasy is a way of coming to terms with death, I agree. I am not suggesting that people will survive the oncoming apocalypse, quite the opposite. Most visitors don't survive this weekend. It allows them to perceive there own death in a much healthier manner than vague dreams of danger in which they themselves invariably survive." says Randy. The jeep has pulled to a stop in the middle of a field.
"My family is buried here. Somewhere, I'm not sure exactly. But in this field. As are the bones of a hundred other animals that I am distantly related to, all the way back to the dinosaurs. You think the dinosaurs worried about the end of the world? And when it came about, did they hope? Or did they breathe in the ashes?"
"Your family is buried here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Well...in case the end of the world does happen to be zombies, I want to be the first to kill them." says Randy, pulling back his coat to reveal a pistol tucked into his trousers.
"You know what's better than regular zombies? Voodoo zombies. You should do a theme park based around that." I said, nodding at him as I get back into the jeep and drive away. All the talk about zombies and apocalypses has give me the urge to watch 'The Bridges Of Madison County', or perhaps 'Before Sunrise'. I hadn't yet decided, but I knew that I had both on blu-ray.
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