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#while also exploring different kinds of music and dances in the philippines throughout history
thewhizzyhead · 3 years
Text
so um yea if you guys thought that tag ramble about having an eva-ish lead in a musical called "Grade 11" was long, then guys i am so sorry cause that is like the least of your problems cause i have even more concept rambles about my many other ideas prepared. oh God.
#LET'S LIST THEM ALL SHALL WE#Misfits - musical i started writing when i was 13 so yea a lot of things changed#current version is about a musical about musical narrators presenting a musical about placing three 'troubled teens' in 1ce bethlehem#to make them become 'fixed' by faith and all yadda yadda AND HOW VERY WRONG IT IS#(it's a jab on most of the musicals my sunday school has presented and it's also a jab to myself when i first wrote this)#(i personally call it Fourth-Wall Breaking: The Musical)#it was gonna be a legit production at my church (i was supposed to work with a professional music team and everything) but i stopped#cause burnout and pettiness (i have some admittedly one sided beef with some church stuffs) and because i didnt like the initial concept#but i will write it someday#Kasaysayan - thought of this when i was 14. kinda wanted a musical about the entirety of ph history#while also exploring different kinds of music and dances in the philippines throughout history#and yea That Will Never Ever Work#could be good as a one time or limited prod but probably never as an actual prod cause yea way too much work#could be good as a concept album tho#also kasaysayan means history#next one#Noli/Fili - musical adaptation of noli me tangere and el filibusterismo (national novels here) but make it have noli in act 1 and el fili in#act 2#and have the el fili protagonist narrate act 1 through his own eyes and have noli protag do the same to act 2#and have it foreshadow A LOT of the plot twists in the novel series#I genuinely want this to work someday#oh yea it's ph rock-rap based#oki next#next is Patron - a kinda modern version of the character dynamics in noli me tangere and el filibusterismo#also i made it gay#it's about journalism and activism and revolution#has a lot of elements from dw spring awakening#main protag named Cris Ibarra can be played by any gender (altho i really want it to be a nonbinary exclusive role)#I GENUINELY WANT THIS TO WORK FJJSD IF I CANT PURSUE MT THEN GOD PLEASE LET ME WRITE THIS ALBEIT VERY AMATEURISHLY INSTEAD#anyways there are A LOT more but those are the first three musicals i've come up with so if u wanna know more hit me up with an ask jfjxjs
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katebushwick · 5 years
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It takes only the merest acquaintance with the facts of the modern world to note that it is now an interactive system in a sense that is strikingly new. Historians and sociologists, especially those concerned with translocal processes ( Hodgson 1 974) and the world systems associated with capital­ ism (Abu-Lughod 1 989; Braudel 1 9 8 1 -84; Curtin 1 984; Wallerstein 1 974; Wolf 1 982), have long been aware that the world has been a congeries of large-scale interactions for many centuries. Yet today's world involves in­ teractions of a new order and intensity. Cultural transactions between so­ cial groups in the past have generally been restricted, sometimes by the facts of geography and ecology, and at other times by active resistance to interactions with the Other (as in China for much of its history and in Japan before the Meiji Restoration). Where there have been sustained cul­ tural transactions across large parts of the globe, they have usually in­ volved the long-distance journey of commodities (and of the merchants most concerned with them) and of travelers and explorers of every type (Helms 1 988; Schafer 1 963). The two main forces for sustained cultural interaction before this century have been warfare (and the large-scale po­ litical systems sometimes generated by it) and religions of conversion, which have sometimes, as in the case of Islam, taken warfare as one of the legitimate instruments of their expansion. Thus, between travelers and
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merchants, pilgrims and conquerors, the world has seen much long-distance (and long-term) cultural traffic. This much seems self-evident.
But few will deny that given the problems of time, distance, and lim­ ited technologies for the command of resources across vast spaces, cul­ tural dealings between socially and spatially separated groups have, until the past few centuries, been bridged at great cost and sustained over time only with great effort. The forces of cultural gravity seemed always to pull away from the formation of large-scale ecumenes, whether religious, commercial, or political, toward smaller-scale accretions of intimacy and interest.
Sometime in the past few centuries, the nature of this gravitational field seems to have changed. Partly because of the spirit of the expansion of Western maritime interests after t 500, and partly because of the relatively autonomous developments of large and aggressive social formations in the Americas (such as the Aztecs and the Incas), in Eurasia (such as the Mon­ gols and their descendants, the Mughals and Ottomans), in island South­ east Asia (such as the Buginese), and in the kingdoms of precolonial Africa (such as Dahomey), an overlapping set of ecumenes began to emerge, in which congeries of money, commerce, conquest, and migration began to create durable cross-societal bonds. This process was accelerated by the technology transfers and innovations of the late eighteenth and nine­ teenth centuries (e.g., Bayly t 989), which created complex colonial orders centered on European capitals and spread throughout the non-European world. This intricate and overlapping set of Eurocolonial worlds (first Spanish and Portuguese, later principally English, French, and Dutch) set the basis for a permanent traffic in ideas of peoplehood and selfhood, which created the imagined communities (Anderson t 983) of recent na­ tionalisms throughout the world.
With what Benedict Anderson has called "print capitalism," a new power was unleashed in the world, the power of mass literacy and its at­ tendant large-scale production of projects of ethnic affinity that were re­ markably free of the need for face-to-face communication or even of indi­ rect communication between persons and groups. The act of reading things together set the stage for movements based on a paradox-the paradox of constructed primordialism. There is, of course, a great deal else that is involved in the story of colonialism and its dialectically generated nationalisms (Chatterjee t986), but the issue of constructed ethnicities is surely a crucial strand in this tale.
But the revolution of print capitalism and the cultural affinities and dia­ logues unleashed by it were only modest precursors to the world we live in
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now. For in the past century, there has been a technological explosion, largely in the domain of transportation and information, that makes the in­ teractions of a print-dominated world seem as hard-won and as easily erased as the print revolution made earlier forms of cultural traffic appear. For with the advent of the steamship, the automobile, the airplane, the camera, the computer, and the telephone, we have entered into an alto­ gether new condition of neighborliness, even with those most distant from ourselves. Marshall McLuhan, among others, sought to theorize about this world as a "global Village," but theories such as McLuhan's appear to have overestimated the communitarian implications of the new media order (McLuhan and Powers 1989). We are now aware that with media, each time we are tempted to speak of the global Village, we must be reminded that media create communities with "no sense of place" (Meyrowitz 1985). The world we live in now seems rhizomic (Deleuze and Guattari 1 987), even schizophrenic, calling for theories of rootlessness, alienation, and psychological distance between individuals and groups on the one hand, and fantasies (or nightmares) of electronic propinquity on the other. Here, we are close to the central problematic of cultural processes in today's world.
Thus, the curiosity that recently drove Pico Iyer to Asia (1988) is in some ways the product of a confusion between some ineffable Mc­ Donaldization of the world and the much subtler play of indigenous tra­ jectories of desire and fear with global flows of people and things. Indeed, Iyer's own impressions are testimony to the fact that, if a global cultural system is emerging, it is filled with ironies and resistances, sometimes cam­ ouflaged as passivity and a bottomless appetite in the Asian world for things Western.
Iyer's own account of the uncanny Philippine affinity for American popular music is rich testimony to the global culture of the hyperreal, for somehow Philippine renditions of American popular songs are both more widespread in the Philippines, and more disturbingly faithful to their orig­ inals, than they are in the United States today. An entire nation seems to have learned to mimic Kenny Rogers and the Lennon sisters, like a vast Asian Motown chorus. But Americanization is certainly a pallid term to apply to such a situation, for not only are there more Filipinos singing perfect renditions of some American songs (often from the American past) than there are Americans doing so, there is also, of course, the fact that the rest of their lives is not in complete synchrony with the referential world that first gave birth to these songs.
In a further globalizing twist on what Fredric Jameson has recently
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called "nostalgia for the present" (1989), these Filipinos look back to a world they have never lost. This is one of the central ironies of the politics of global cultural flows, especially in the arena of entertainment and leisure. It plays havoc with the hegemony of Eurochronology. American nostalgia feeds on Filipino desire represented as a hypercompetent repro­ duction. Here, we have nostalgia without memory. The paradox, of course, has its explanations, and they are historical; unpacked, they lay bare the story of the American missionization and political rape of the Philippines, one result of which has been the creation of a nation of make­ believe Americans, who tolerated for so long a leading lady who played the piano while the slums of Manila expanded and decayed. Perhaps the most radical postmodernists would argue that this is hardly surprising be­ cause in the peculiar chronicities of late capitalism, pastiche and nostalgia are central modes of image production and reception. Americans them­ selves are hardly in the present anymore as they stumble into the mega­ technologies of the twenty-first century garbed in the film-noir scenarios of sixties' chills, fifties' diners, forties' clothing, thirties' houses, twenties' dances, and so on ad infinitum.
As far as the United States is concerned, one might suggest that the issue is no longer one of nostalgia but of a social imaginaire built largely around reruns. Jameson was bold to link the politics of nostalgia to the postmodern commodity sensibility, and surely he was right (1983). The drug wars in Colombia recapitulate the tropical sweat of Vietnam, with Ollie North and his succession of masks-Jimmy Stewart concealing John Wayne concealing Spiro Agnew and all of them transmogrifying into Sylvester Stallone, who wins in Afghanistan-thus simultaneously fulfill­ ing the secret American envy of Soviet imperialism and the rerun (this time with a happy ending) of the Vietnam War. The Rolling Stones, ap­ proaching their fifties, gyrate before eighteen-year-olds who do not ap­ pear to need the machinery of nostalgia to be sold on their parents' heroes. Paul McCartney is selling the Beatles to a new audience by hitching his oblique nostalgia to their desire for the new that smacks of the old. Dragnet is back in nineties' drag, and so is Adam- i 2, not to speak of Batman and Mis­ sion Impossible, all dressed up technologically but remarkably faithful to the atmospherics of their originals.
The past is now not a land to return to in a simple politics of memory. It has become a synchronic warehouse of cultural scenarios, a kind of tem­ poral central casting, to which recourse can be taken as appropriate, de­ pending on the movie to be made, the scene to be enacted, the hostages to be rescued. All this is par for the course, if you follow Jean Baudrillard or
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Jean-Fran<;ois Lyotard into a world of signs wholly unmoored from their social signifiers (all the world's a Disneyland). But I would like to suggest that the apparent increasing substitutability of whole periods and postures for one another, in the cultural styles of advanced capitalism, is tied to larger global forces, which have done much to show Americans that the past is usually another country. If your present is their future (as in much modernization theory and in many self-satisfied tourist fantasies), and their future is your past (as in the case of the Filipino virtuosos of American popular music), then your own past can be made to appear as simply a nor­ malized modality of your present. Thus, although some anthropologists may continue to relegate their Others to temporal spaces that they do not themselvesoccupy(Fabian 1983),postindustrialculturalproductionshave entered a postnostalgic phase.
The crucial point, however, is that the United States is no longer the puppeteer of a world system of images but is only one node of a complex transnational construction of imaginary landscapes. The world we live in today is characterized by a new role for the imagination in social life. To grasp this new role, we need to bring together the old idea of images, es­ pecially mechanically produced images (in the Frankfurt School sense); the idea of the imagined community (in Anderson's sense); and the French idea of the imaginary (imaginaire) as a constructed landscape of collective aspirations, which is no more and no less real than the collective represen­ tations of Emile Durkheim, now mediated through the complex prism of modern media.
The image, the imagined, the imaginary-these are all terms that di­ rect us to something critical and new in global cultural processes: the imag­ ination as a social practice. No longer mere fantasy (opium for the masses whose real work is elsewhere), no longer simple escape (from a world de­ fined principally by more concrete purposes and structures), no longer elite pastime (thus not relevant to the lives of ordinary people), and no longer mere contemplation (irrelevant for new forms of desire and subjec­ tivity), the imagination has become an organized field of social practices, a form of work (in the sense of both labor and culturally organized prac­ tice), and a form of negotiation between sites of agency (individuals) and globally defined fields of possibility. This unleashing of the imagination links the play of pastiche (in some settings) to the terror and coercion of states and their competitors. The imagination is now central to all forms of agency, is itself a social fact, and is the key component of the new global order. But to make this claim meaningful, we must address some other issues.
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Homogenization and Heterogenization
The central problem of today's global interactions is the tension between cultural homogenization and cultural heterogenization. A vast array of empirical facts could be brought to bear on the side of the homogeniza­ tion argument, and much of it has come from the left end of the spectrum of media studies (Hamelink 1983; Mattelart 1983; Schiller 1976), and some from other perspectives (Cans 1 985; lyer 1 988). Most often, the ho­ mogenization argument subspeciates into either an argument about Amer­ icanization or an argument about commoditization, and very often the two arguments are closely linked. What these arguments fail to consider is that at least as rapidly as forces from various metropolises are brought into new societies they tend to become indigenized in one or anotherway: this is true of music and housing styles as much as it is true of science and ter­ rorism, spectacles and constitutions. The dynamics of such indigenization havejustbegunto beexploredsystemically (Barber 1987; Feld 1988; Han­ nerz 1 987, 1 989; Ivy 1 988; Nicoll 1 989; Yoshimoto 1 989), and much more needs to be done. But it is worth noticing that for the people of Irian ]aya, lndonesianization may be more worrisome than Americanization, as ]apanization may be for Koreans, lndianization for Sri Lankans, Viet­ namization for the Cambodians, and Russianization for the people of So­ viet Armenia and the Baltic republics. Such a list of alternative fears to Americanization could be greatly expanded, but it is not a shapeless in­ ventory: for polities of smaller scale, there is always a fear of cultural ab­ sorption by polities of larger scale, especially those that are nearby. One man's imagined community is another man's political prison.
This scalar dynamic, which has Widespread global manifestations, is also tied to the relationship between nations a n d states, t o which I shall re­ turn later. For the moment let us note that the simplification of these many forces (and fears) of homogenization can also be exploited by nation­ states in relation to their own minorities, by posing global commoditiza­ tion (or capitalism, or some other such external enemy) as more real than the threat of its own hegemonic strategies.
The new global cultural economy has to be seen as a complex, overlap­ ping, disjunctive order that cannot any longer be understood in terms of existing center-periphery models (even those that might account for mul­ tiple centers and peripheries). Nor is it susceptible to simple models of push and pull (in terms of migration theory), or of surpluses and deficits (as in traditional models of balance of trade), or of consumers and producers (as in most neo-Marxist theories of development). Even the most complex
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and flexible theories of global development that have come out of the Marxist tradition (Amin 1 980; Mandel 1 978; Wallerstein 1 974; Wolf 1 982) are inadequately quirky and have failed to come to terms with what Scott Lash and John Urry have called disorganized capitalism ( 1 987). The complexity of the current global economy has to do with certain funda­ mental disjunctures between economy, culture, and politics that we have
only begun to theorize. I
I propose that an elementary framework for exploring such disjunctures
is to look at the relationship among five dimensions of global cultural flows that can be termed (a) ethnoscapes, (b) mediascapes, (c) technoscapes, (d) fi­ nancescapes, and (e) ideoscapes 2 The suffix -scape allows us to point to the fluid, irregular shapes of these landscapes, shapes that characterize inter­ national capital as deeply as they do international clothing styles. These terms with the common suffix -scape also indicate that these are not objec­ tively given relations that look the same from every angle of vision but, rather, that they are deeply perspectival constructs, inflected by the his­ torical, linguistic, and political situatedness of different sorts of actors: na­ tion-states, multinationals, diasporic communities, as well as subnational groupings and movements (whether religious, political, or economic), and even intimate face-to-face groups, such as villages, neighborhoods, and families. Indeed, the individual actor is the last locus of this perspectival set of landscapes, for these landscapes are eventually navigated by agents who both experience and constitute larger formations, in part from their own sense of what these landscapes offer.
These landscapes thus are the bUilding blocks of what (extending Benedict Anderson) I would like to call imagined worlds, that is, the multiple worlds that are constituted by the historically situated imaginations of per­ sons and groups spread around the globe (chap. 1 ). An important fact of the world we live in today is that many persons on the globe live in such imagined worlds (and not just in imagined communities) and thus are able to contest and sometimes even subvert the imagined worlds of the official mind and of the entrepreneurial mentality that surround them.
By ethnoscape, I mean the landscape of persons who constitute the shifting world in which we live: tourists, immigrants, refugees, exiles, guest workers, and other moving groups and individuals constitute an essential feature of the world and appear to affect the politics of (and between) nations to a hitherto unprecedented degree. This is not to say that there are no rela­ tively stable communities and networks of kinship, friendship, work, and leisure, as well as of birth, residence, and other filial forms. But it is to say that the warp of these stabilities is everywhere shot through with the woof
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of human motion, as more persons and groups deal with the realities of hav­ ing to move or the fantasies of wanting to move. What is more, both these realities and fantasies now function on larger scales, as men and women from villages in India think not just of moving to Poona or Madras but of moving to Dubai and Houston, and refugees from Sri Lanka find themselves in South India as well as in Switzerland, just as the Hmong are driven to London as well as to Philadelphia. And as international capital shifts its needs, as production and technology generate different needs, as nation­ states shift their policies on refugee populations, these moving groups can never afford to let their imaginations rest too long, even if they wish to.
By technoscape, I mean the global configuration, also ever fluid, of technol­ ogy and the fact that technology, both high and low, both mechanical and informational, now moves at high speeds across various kinds of previously impervious boundaries. Many countries now are the roots of multinational enterprise: a huge steel complex in libya may involve interests from India, China, RUSSia, and Japan, providing different components of new techno­ logical configurations. The odd distribution of technologies, and thus the peculiarities of these technoscapes, are increasingly driven not by any obvi­ ous economies of scale, of political control, or of market rationality but by increasingly complex relationships among money flows, political possibili­ ties, and the availability of both un- and highly skilled labor. So, while India exports waiters and chauffeurs to Dubai and Sharjah, it also exports soft­ ware engineers to the United States-indentured briefly to Tata-Burroughs or the World Bank, then laundered through the State Department to be­ come wealthy resident aliens, who are in tum objects of seductive messages to invest their money and know-how in federal and state projects in India.
The global economy can still be described in terms of traditional indi­ cators (as the World Bank continues to do) and studied in terms of tradi­ tional comparisons (as in Project link at the University of Pennsylvania), but the complicated technoscapes (and the shifting ethnoscapes) that un­ derlie these indicators and comparisons are further out of the reach of the queen of social sciences than ever before. How is one to make a meaning­ ful comparison of wages in Japan and the United States or of real-estate costs in New York and Tokyo, without taking sophisticated account of the very complex fiscal and investment flows that link the two economies through a global grid of currency speculation and capital transfer?
Thus it is useful to speak as well offinancescapes, as the disposition of global capital is now a more mysterious, rapid, and difficult landscape to follow than ever before, as currency markets, national stock exchanges, and commodity speculations move megamonies through national turn-
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stiles at blinding speed, with vast, absolute implications for smaIl differ­ ences in percentage points and time units. But the critical point is that the global relationship among ethnoscapes, technoscapes, and financescapes is deeply disjunctive and profoundly unpredictable because each of these landscapes is subject to its own constraints and incentives (some political, some informational, and some technoenvironmental), at the same time as each acts as a constraint and a parameter for movements in the others. Thus, even an elementary model of global political economy must take into account the deeply disjunctive relationships among human move­ ment, technological flow, and financial transfers.
Further refracting these disjunctures (which hardly form a simple, me­ chanical global infrastructure in any case) are what I caIl mediascapes and ideoscapes, which are closely related landscapes of images. Mediascapes refer both to the distribution of the electronic capabilities to produce and dis­ seminate information (newspapers, magazines, television stations, and film-production studios), which are now available to a growing number of private and public interests throughout the world, and to the images of the world created by these media. These images involve many complicated in­ flections, depending on their mode (documentary or entertainment), their hardware (electronic or preelectronic), their audiences (local, national, or transnational), and the interests of those who own and control them. What is most important about these mediascapes is that they provide (es­ peciaIJy in their television, film, and cassette forms) large and complex repertoires of images, narratives, and ethnoscapes to viewers throughout the world, in which the world of commodities and the world of news and politics are profoundly mixed. What this means is that many audiences around the world experience the media themselves as a complicated and interconnected repertoire of print, ceIJuloid, electronic screens, and biIJ­ boards. The lines between the realistic and the fictional landscapes they see are blurred, so that the farther away these audiences are from the direct experiences of metropolitan life, the more likely they are to construct imagined worlds that are chimerical, aesthetic, even fantastic objects, par­ ticularly if assessed by the criteria of some other perspective, some other imagined world.
Mediascapes, whether produced by private or state interests, tend to be image-centered, narrative-based accounts of strips of reality, and what they offer to those who experience and transform them is a series of ele­ ments (such as characters, plots, and textual forms) out of which scripts can be formed of imagined lives, their own as weIJ as those of others living in other places. These scripts can and do get disaggregated into complex
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sets of metaphors by which people live ( Lakoff and Johnson 1 9 80) as they help to constitute narratives of the Other and protonarratives of possible lives, fantasies that could become prolegomena to the desire for acquisi­ tion and movement.
Ideoscapes are also concatenations of images, but they are often directly political and frequently have to do with the ideologies of states and the counterideologies of movements explicitly oriented to capturing state power or a piece of it. These ideoscapes are composed of elements of the Enlightenment worldview, which consists of a chain of ideas, terms, and images, including freedom, welfare, rights, sovereignty, representation, and the mas­ ter term democracy. The master narrative of the Enlightenment (and its many variants in Britain, France, and the United States) was constructed with a certain internal logic and presupposed a certain relationship be­ tween reading, representation, and the public sphere. (For the dynamics of this process in the early history of the United States, see Warner 1 990.) But the diaspora of these terms and images across the world, especially since the nineteenth century, has loosened the internal coherence that held them together in a Euro-American master narrative and provided in­ stead a loosely structured synopticon of politics, in which different nation­ states, as part of their evolution, have organized their political cultures around different keywords (e.g., Williams 1 976).
As a result of the differential diaspora of these keywords, the political narratives that govern communication between elites and followers in dif­ ferent parts of the world involve problems of both a semantic and prag­ matic nature: semantic to the extent that words (and their lexical equiva­ lents) require careful translation from context to context in their global movements, and pragmatic to the extent that the use of these words by political actors and their audiences may be subject to very different sets of contextual conventions that mediate their translation into public politics. Such conventions are not only matters of the nature of political rhetoric: for example, what does the aging Chinese leadership mean when it refers to the dangers of hooliganism? What does the South Korean leadership mean when it speaks of discipline as the key to democratic industrial growth?
These conventions also involve the far more subtle question of what sets of communicative genres are valued in what way (newspapers versus cinema, for example) and what sorts of pragmatic genre conventions gov­ ern the collective readings of different kinds of text. So, while an Indian audience may be attentive to the resonances of a political speech in terms of some keywords and phrases reminiscent of Hindi cinema, a Korean au­ dience may respond to the subtle codings of Buddhist or neo-Confucian
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rhetoric encoded in a political document. The very relationship of reading to hearing and seeing may vary in important ways that determine the mor­ phology of these different ideoscapes as they shape themselves in different national and transnational contexts. This globally variable synaesthesia has hardly even been noted, but it demands urgent analysis. Thus democracy has clearly become a master term, with powerful echoes from Haiti and Poland to the former Soviet Union and China, but it sits at the center of a variety of ideoscapes, composed of distinctive pragmatic configurations of rough translations of other central terms from the vocabulary of the En­ lightenment. This creates ever new terminological kaleidoscopes, as states (and the groups that seek to capture them) seek to pacify populations whose own ethnoscapes are in motion and whose mediascapes may create severe problems for the ideoscapes with which they are presented. The flUidity of ideoscapes is complicated in particular by the growing diasporas (both voluntary and involuntary) of intellectuals who continuously inject new meaning-streams into the discourse of democracy in different parts of the world.
This extended terminological discussion of the five terms I have coined sets the basis for a tentative formulation about the conditions under which current global flows occur: they occur in and through the growing dis­ junctures among ethnoscapes, technoscapes, financescapes, mediascapes, and ideoscapes. This formulation, the core of my model of global cultural flow, needs some explanation. First, people, machinery, money, images, and ideas now follow increasingly nonisomorphic paths; of course, at all periods in human history, there have been some disjunctures in the flows of these things, but the sheer speed, scale, and volume of each of these flows are now so great that the disjunctures have become central to the politics of global culture. The Japanese are notoriously hospitable to ideas and are stereotyped as inclined to export (all) and import (some) goods, but they are also notoriously closed to immigration, like the Swiss, the Swedes, and the Saudis. Yet the Swiss and the Saudis accept populations of guest workers, thus creating labor diasporas of Turks, italians, and other circum-Mediterranean groups. Some such guest-worker groups maintain continuous contact with their home nations, like the Turks, but others, like high-level South Asian migrants, tend to desire lives in their new homes, raising anew the problem of reproduction in a deterritorialized context.
Deterritorialization, in general, is one of the central forces of the mod­ ern world because it brings laboring populations into the lower-class sec­ tors and spaces of relatively wealthy societies, while sometimes creating exaggerated and intensified senses of criticism or attachment to politics in
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the home state. Deterritorialization, whether of Hindus, Sikhs, Palestini­ ans, or Ukrainians, is now at the core of a variety of global fundamen­ talisms, including Islamic and Hindu fundamentalism. In the Hindu case, for example, it is clear that the overseas movement of Indians has been ex­ ploited by a variety of interests both within and outside India to create a complicated network of finances and religious identifications, by which the problem of cultural reproduction for Hindus abroad has become tied to the politics of Hindu fundamentalism at home.
At the same time, deterritorialization creates new markets for film com­ panies, art impresarios, and travel agencies, which thrive on the need of the deterritorialized population for contact with its homeland. Naturally, these invented homelands, which constitute the mediascapes of deterrito­ rialized groups, can often become sufficiently fantastic and one-sided that they provide the material for new ideoscapes in which ethnic conflicts can begin to erupt. The creation of Khalistan, an invented homeland of the de­ territorialized Sikh population of England, Canada, and the United States, is one example of the bloody potential in such mediascapes as they inter­ act with the internal colonialisms of the nation-state (e.g., Hechter 1 975). The West Bank, Namibia, and Eritrea are other theaters for the enactment of the bloody negotiation between existing nation-states and various de­ territorialized groupings.
It is in the fertile ground of deterritorialization, in which money, com­ modities, and persons are involved in ceaselessly chasing each other around the world, that the mediascapes and ideoscapes of the modern world find their fractured and fragmented counterpart. For the ideas and images produced by mass media often are only partial guides to the goods and experiences that deterritorialized populations transfer to one another.
In Mira Nair's brilliant film India Cabaret, we see the multiple loops of this fractured deterritorialization as young women, barely competent in Bom­ bay's metropolitan glitz, come to seek their fortunes as cabaret dancers and prostitutes in Bombay, entertaining men in clubs with dance formats de­ rived wholly from the prurient dance sequences of Hindi films. These scenes in turn cater to ideas about Western and foreign women and their looseness, while they provide tawdry career alibis for these women. Some of these women come from Kerala, where cabaret clubs and the porno­ graphic film industry have blossomed, partly in response to the purses and tastes of Keralites returned from the Middle East, where their diasporic lives away from women distort their very sense of what the relations be­ tween men and women might be. These tragedies of displacement could certainly be replayed in a more detailed analysis of the relations between
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the Japanese and German sex tours to Thailand and the tragedies of the sex trade in Bangkok, and in other similar loops that tie together fantasies about the Other, the conveniences and seductions of travel, the econom­ ics of global trade, and the brutal mobility fantasies that dominate gender politics in many parts of Asia and the world at large.
While far more could be said about the cultural politics of deterritorial­ ization and the larger sociology of displacement that it expresses, it is ap­ propriate at this juncture to bring in the role of the nation-state in the dis­ junctive global economy of culture today. The relationship between states and nations is everywhere an embattled one. It is possible to say that in many societies the nation and the state have become one another's pro­ jects. That is, while nations (or more properly groups with ideas about nationhood) seek to capture or co-opt states and state power, states simul­ taneously seek to capture and monopolize ideas about nationhood (Baruah 1986; Chatterjee 1986; Nandy 1989a). In general, separatist transnational movements, including those that have included terror in their methods, exemplify nations in search of states. Sikhs, Tamil Sri Lankans, Basques, Moros, Quebecois-each of these represents imagined communities that seek to create states of their own or carve pieces out of existing states. States, on the other hand, are everywhere seeking to monopolize the moral resources of community, either by flatly claiming perfect coevality between nation and state, or by systematically museumizing and repre­ senting all the groups within them in a variety of heritage politics that seems remarkably uniform throughout the world (Handler 1 988; Herzfeld 1 982; McQueen 1 988).
Here, national and international mediascapes are exploited by nation­ states to pacify separatists or even the potential fissiparousness of all ideas of difference. Typically, contemporary nation-states do this by exercising taxonomic control over difference, by creating various kinds of interna­ tional spectacle to domesticate difference, and by seducing small groups with the fantasy of self-display on some sort of global or cosmopolitan stage. One important new feature of global cultural politics, tied to the disjunctive relationships among the various landscapes discussed earlier, is that state and nation are at each other's throats, and the hyphen that links them is now less an icon of conjuncture than an index of disjuncture. This disjunctive relationship between nation and state has two levels: at the level of any given nation-state, it means that there is a battle of the imagi­ nation, with state and nation seeking to cannibalize one another. Here is the seedbed of brutal separatisms-majoritarianisms that seem to have ap­ peared from nowhere and microidentities that have become political pro-
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jects within the nation-state. At another level, this disjunctive relationship is deeply entangled with the global disjunctures discussed throughout this chapter: ideas of nationhood appear to be steadily increasing in scale and regularly crossing existing state boundaries, sometimes, as with the Kurds, because previous identities stretched across vast national spaces or, as with the Tamils in Sri Lanka, the dormant threads of a transnational diaspora have been activated to ignite the micropolitics of a nation-state.
In discussing the cultural politics that have subverted the hyphen that links the nation to the state, it is especially important not to forget the mooring of such politics in the irregularities that now characterize disorga­ nized capital (Kothari 1 989c; Lash and Urry 1 987). Because labor, finance, and technology are now so widely separated, the volatilities that underlie movements for nationhood (as large as transnational Islam on the one hand, or as small as the movement of the Gurkhas for a separate state in Northeast India) grind against the vulnerabilities that characterize the relationships between states. States find themselves pressed to stay open by the forces of media, technology, and travel that have fueled consumerism throughout the world and have increased the craving, even in the non-Western world, for new commodities and spectacles. On the other hand, these very crav­ ings can become caught up in new ethnoscapes, mediascapes, and, eventu­ ally, ideoscapes, such as democracy in China, that the state cannot tolerate as threats to its own control over ideas of nationhood and peoplehood. States throughout the world are under siege, especially where contests over the ideoscapes of democracy are fierce and fundamental, and where there are radical disjunctures between ideoscapes and technoscapes (as in the case of very small countries that lack contemporary technologies of pro­ duction and information); or between ideoscapes and financescapes (as in countries such as Mexico or Brazil, where international lending influences national politics to a very large degree); or between ideoscapes and ethnoscapes (as in Beirut, where diasporic, local, and translocal filiations are SUicidally at battle); or between ideoscapes and mediascapes (as in many countries in the Middle East and Asia) where the lifestyles represented on both national and international TV and cinema completely overwhelm and undermine the rhetoric of national politics. In the Indian case, the myth of the law-breaking hero has emerged to mediate this naked struggle between the pieties and realities of Indian politics, which has grown increasingly brutalized and corrupt (Vachani 1 989).
The transnational movement of the martial arts, particularly through ASia, as mediated by the Hollywood and Hong Kong film industries (Zarilli 1 995) is a rich illustration of the ways in which long-standing mar-
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tial arts traditions, reformulated to meet the fantasies of contemporary (sometimes lumpen) youth populations, create new cultures of masculinity and violence, which are in turn the fuel for increased violence in national and international politics. Such violence is in turn the spur to an increas­ ingly rapid and amoral arms trade that penetrates the entire world. The worldwide spread of the AK-47 and the UZi, in films, in corporate and state security, in terror, and in police and military activity, is a reminder that apparently simple technical uniformities often conceal an increasingly complex set of loops, linking images of violence to aspirations for commu­ nity in some imagined world.
Returning then to the ethnoscapes with which I began, the central paradox of ethnic politics in today's world is that primordia (whether of language or skin color or neighborhood or kinship) have become global­ ized. That is, sentiments, whose greatest force is in their ability to ignite intimacy into a political state and turn locality into a staging ground for identity, have become spread over vast and irregular spaces as groups move yet stay linked to one another through sophisticated media capabil­ ities. This is not to deny that such primordia are often the product of in­ vented traditions (Hobsbawm and Ranger 1 983) or retrospective affilia­ tions, but to emphasize that because of the disjunctive and unstable interplay of commerce, media, national policies, and consumer fantaSies, ethnicity, once a genie contained in the bottle of some sort of locality (however large), has now become a global force, forever slipping in and through the cracks between states and borders.
But the relationship between the cultural and economic levels of this new set of global disjunctures is not a simple one-way street in which the terms of global cultural politics are set wholly by, or confined wholly Within, the vicissitudes of international flows of technology, labor, and fi­ nance, demanding only a modest modification of existing neo-Marxist models of uneven development and state formation. There is a deeper change, itself driven by the disjunctures among all the landscapes I have discussed and constituted by their continuously fluid and uncertain inter­ play, that concerns the relationship between production and consumption in today's global economy. Here, I begin with Marx's famous (and often mined) view of the fetishism of the commodity and suggest that this fetishism has been replaced in the world at large (now seeing the world as one large, interactive system, composed of many complex subsystems) by two mutually supportive descendants, the first of which I call production fetishism and the second, the fetishism of the consumer.
By productionfetishism I mean an illusion created by contemporary trans-
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national production loci that masks translocal capital, transnational earn­ ing flows, global management, and often faraway workers (engaged in var­ ious kinds of high-tech putting-out operations) in the idiom and spectacle of local (sometimes even worker) control, national productivity, and terri­ torial sovereignty. To the extent that various kinds of free-trade zones have become the models for production at large, especially of high-tech commodities, production has itself become a fetish, obscuring not social relations as such but the relations of production, which are increasingly transnational. The locality (both in the sense of the local factory or site of production and in the extended sense of the nation-state) becomes a fetish that disguises the globally dispersed forces that actually drive the produc­ tion process. This generates alienation (in Marx's sense) twice intensified, for its social sense is now compounded by a complicated spatial dynamic that is increasingly global.
As for the fetishism of the consumer, I mean to indicate here that the con­ sumer has been transformed through commodity flows (and the media­ scapes, especially of advertising, that accompany them) into a sign, both in Baudrillard's sense of a simulacrum that only asymptotically approaches the form of a real social agent, and in the sense of a mask for the real seat of agency, which is not the consumer but the producer and the many forces that constitute production. Global advertising is the key technol­ ogy for the worldwide dissemination of a plethora of creative and cultur­ ally well-chosen ideas of consumer agency. These images of agency are in­ creasingly distortions of a world of merchandising so subtle that the consumer is consistently helped to believe that he or she is an actor, where in fact he or she is at best a chooser.
The globalization of culture is not the same as its homogenization, but globalization involves the use of a variety of instruments of homogenization (armaments, advertising techniques, language hegemonies, and clothing styles) that are absorbed into local political and cultural economies, only to be repatriated as heterogeneous dialogues of national sovereignty, free en­ terprise, and fundamentalism in which the state plays an increasingly deli­ cate role: too much openness to global flows, and the nation-state is threat­ ened by revolt, as in the China syndrome; too little, and the state exits the international stage, as Burma, Albania, and North Korea in various ways have done. In general, the state has become the arbitrageur of this repatriation of difference (in the form of goods, signs, slogans, and styles). But this repatri­ ation or export of the designs and commodities of difference continuously exacerbates the internal politics of majoritarianism and homogenization, which is most frequently played out in debates over heritage.
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Thus the central feature of global culture today is the politics of the mutual effort of sameness and difference to cannibalize one another and thereby proclaim their successful hijacking of the twin Enlightenment ideas of the triumphantly universal and the resiliently particular. This mutual cannibalization shows its ugly face in riots, refugee flows, state­ sponsored torture, and ethnocide (with or without state support). Its brighter side is in the expansion of many individual horizons of hope and fantasy, in the global spread of oral rehydration therapy and other low­ tech instruments of well-being, in the susceptibility even of South Africa to the force of global opinion, in the inability of the Polish state to repress its own working classes, and in the growth of a wide range of progressive, transnational alliances. Examples of both sorts could be multiplied. The critical point is that both sides of the coin of global cultural process today are products of the infinitely varied mutual contest of sameness and differ­ ence on a stage characterized by radical disjunctures between different sorts of global flows and the uncertain landscapes created in and through these disjunctures.
The Work of Reproduction in an Age ofMechanical Art
I have inverted the key terms of the title of Walter Benjamin's famous essay ( 1 969) to return this rather high-flying discussion to a more manageable level. There is a classic human problem that will not disappear however much global cultural processes might change their dynamics, and this is the problem today typically discussed under the rubric of reproduction (and traditionally referred to in terms of the transmission of culture). In ei­ ther case, the question is, how do small groups, especially families, the classical loci of socialization, deal with these new global realities as they seek to reproduce themselves and, in so doing, by accident reproduce cul­ tural forms themselves? In traditional anthropological terms, this could be phrased as the problem of enculturation in a period of rapid culture change. So the problem is hardly novel. But it does take on some novel di­ mensions under the global conditions discussed so far in this chapter.
First, the sort of transgenerational stability of knowledge that was pre­ supposed in most theories of enculturation (or, in slightly broader terms, of socialization) can no longer be assumed. As families move to new loca­ tions, or as children move before older generations, or as grown sons and daughters return from time spent in strange parts of the world, family rela­ tionships can become volatile; new commodity patterns are negotiated, debts and obligations are recalibrated, and rumors and fantasies about the
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new setting are maneuvered into existing repertoires of knowledge and practice. Often, global labor diasporas involve immense strains on mar­ riages in general and on women in particular, as marriages become the meeting points of historical patterns of socialization and new ideas of proper behavior. Generations easily divide, as ideas about property, pro­ priety, and collective obligation wither under the siege of distance and time. Most important, the work of cultural reproduction in new settings is profoundly complicated by the politics of representing a family as normal (particularly for the young) to neighbors and peers in the new locale. All this is, of course, not new to the cultural study of immigration.
What is new is that this is a world in which both points of departure and points of arrival are in cultural flux, and thus the search for steady points of reference, as critical life choices are made, can be very difficult. It is in this atmosphere that the invention of tradition (and of ethnicity, kin­ ship, and other identity markers) can become slippery, as the search for certainties is regularly frustrated by the fluidities of transnational commu­ nication. As group pasts become increasingly parts of museums, exhibits, and collections, both in national and transnational spectacles, culture be­ comes less what Pierre Bourdieu would have called a habitus (a tacit realm of reproducible practices and dispositions) and more an arena for con­ scious choice, justification, and representation, the latter often to multiple and spatially dislocated audiences.
The task of cultural reproduction, even in its most intimate arenas, such as husband-wife and parent-child relations, becomes both politicized and exposed to the traumas of deterritorialization as family members pool and negotiate their mutual understandings and aspirations in sometimes frac­ tured spatial arrangements. At larger levels, such as community, neighbor­ hood, and territory, this politicization is often the emotional fuel for more explicitly violent politics of identity, just as these larger politics sometimes penetrate and ignite domestic politics. When, for example, two offspring in a household split with their father on a key matter of political identifi­ cation in a transnational setting, preexisting localized norms carry little force. Thus a son who has joined the Hezbollah group in Lebanon may no longer get along with parents or siblings who are affiliated with Amal or some other branch of Shi'i ethnic political identity in Lebanon. Women in particular bear the brunt of this sort of friction, for they become pawns in the heritage politics of the household and are often subject to the abuse and violence of men who are themselves torn about the relation between heritage and opportunity in shifting spatial and political formations.
The pains of cultural reproduction in a disjunctive global world are, of
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course, not eased by the effects of mechanical art (or mass media), for these media afford powerful resources for counternodes of identity that youth can project against parental wishes or desires. At larger levels of or­ ganization, there can be many forms of cultural politics within displaced populations (whether of refugees or of voluntary immigrants), all of which are inflected in important ways by media (and the mediascapes and ideoscapes they offer). A central link between the fragilities of cultural re­ production and the role of the mass media in today's world is the politics of gender and violence. As fantasies of gendered violence dominate the B­ grade film industries that blanket the world, they both reflect and refine gendered violence at home and in the streets, as young men (in particular) are swayed by the macho politics of self-assertion in contexts where they are frequently denied real agency, and women are forced to enter the labor force in new ways on the one hand, and continue the maintenance of fa­ milial heritage on the other. Thus the honor of women becomes not just an armature of stable (if inhuman) systems of cultural reproduction but a new arena for the formation of sexual identity and family politics, as men and women face new pressures at work and new fantasies of leisure.
Because both work and leisure have lost none of their gendered quali­ ties in this new global order but have acquired ever subtler fetishized rep­ resentations, the honor of women becomes increasingly a surrogate for the identity of embattled communities of males, while their women in reality have to negotiate increasingly harsh conditions of work at home and in the nondomestic workplace. In short, deterritorialized communities and displaced populations, however much they may enjoy the fruits of new kinds of earning and new dispositions of capital and technology, have to play out the desires and fantasies of these new ethnoscapes, while striving to reproduce the family-as-microcosm of culture. As the shapes of cultures grow less bounded and tacit, more fluid and politicized, the work of cul­ tural reproduction becomes a daily hazard. Far more could, and should, be said about the work of reproduction in an age of mechanical art: the pre­ ceding discussion is meant to indicate the contours of the problems that a new, globally informed theory of cultural reproduction will have to face.
Shape and Process in Global Cultural Formations
The deliberations of the arguments that I have made so far constitute the bare bones of an approach to a general theory of global cultural processes. Focusing on disjunctures, I have employed a set of terms (ethnoscape, fi­ nancescape, technoscape, mediascape, and ideoscape) to stress different streams or
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flows along which cultural material may be seen to be moving across na­ tional boundaries. I have also sought to exemplify the ways in which these various flows (or landscapes, from the stabilizing perspectives of any given imagined world) are in fundamental disjuncture with respect to one an­ other. What further steps can we take toward a general theory of global cultural processes based on these proposals?
The first is to note that our very models of cultural shape will have to alter, as configurations of people, place, and heritage lose all semblance of isomorphism. Recent work in anthropology has done much to free us of the shackles of highly localized, boundary-oriented, holistic, primordialist images of cultural form and substance ( Hannerz 1 989; Marcus and Fischer
1 986; Thornton 1 988). But not very much has been put in their place, ex­ cept somewhat larger if less mechanical versions of these images, as in Eric Wolf's work on the relationship of Europe to the rest of the world ( 1 982). What I would like to propose is that we begin to think of the configuration of cultural forms in today's world as fundamentally fractal, that is, as pos­ sessing no Euclidean boundaries, structures, or regularities. Second, I would suggest that these cultural forms, which we should strive to repre­ sent as fully fractal, are also overlapping in ways that have been discussed only in pure mathematics (in set theory, for example) and in biology (in the language of polythetic classifications). Thus we need to combine a fractal metaphor for the shape of cultures (in the plural) with a polythetic account of their overlaps and resemblances. Without this latter step, we shall remain mired in comparative work that relies on the clear separation of the entities to be compared before serious comparison can begin. How are we to compare fractally shaped cultural forms that are also polytheti­ cally overlapping in their coverage of terrestrial space?
Finally, in order for the theory of global cultural interactions predicated on disjunctive flows to have any force greater than that of a mechanical metaphor, it will have to move into something like a human version of the theory that some scientists are calling chaos theory. That is, we will need to ask not how these complex, overlapping, fractal shapes constitute a sim­ ple, stable (even if large-scale) system, but to ask what its dynamics are: Why do ethnic riots occur when and where they do? Why do states wither at greater rates in some places and times than in others? Why do some countries flout conventions of international debt repayment with so much less apparent worry than others? How are international arms flows driving ethnic battles and genocides? Why are some states exiting the global stage while others are clamoring to get in? Why do key events occur at a certain point in a certain place rather than in others? These are, of course, the
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great traditional questions of causality, contingency, and prediction in the human sciences, but in a world of disjunctive global flows, it is perhaps im­ portant to start asking them in a way that relies on images of flow and un­ certainty, hence chaos, rather than on older images of order, stability, and systematicness. Otherwise, we will have gone far toward a theory of global cultural systems but thrown out process in the bargain. And that would make these notes part of a journey toward the kind of illusion of order that we can no longer afford to impose on a world that is so transparently volatile.
Whatever the directions in which we can push these macrometaphors (fractals, polythetic classifications, and chaos), we need to ask one other old-fashioned question out of the Marxist paradigm: is there some pre­ given order to the relative det��rmining force of these global flows? Be­ cause I have postulated the dynamics of global cultural systems as driven by the relationships among flows of persons, technologies, finance, infor­ mation, and ideology, can we speak of some structural-causal order linking these flows by analogy to the role of the economic order in one version of the Marxist paradigm? Can we speak of some of these flows as being, for a priori structural or historical reasons, always prior to and formative of other flows? My own hypothesis, which can only be tentative at this point, is that the relationship of these various flows to one another as they con­ stellate into particular events and social forms will be radically context­ dependent. Thus, while labor flows and their loops with financial flows between Kerala and the Middle East may account for the shape of media flows and ideoscapes in Kerala, the reverse may be true of Silicon Valley in California, where intense specialization in a single technological sector (computers) and particular flows of capital may well profoundly determine the shape that ethnoscapes, ideoscapes, and mediascapes may take.
This does not mean that the causal-historical relationship among these various flows is random or meaninglessly contingent but that our current theories of cultural chaos are insufficiently developed to be even parsimo­ nious models at this point, much less to be predictive theories, the golden fleeces of one kind of social science. What I have sought to provide in this chapter is a reasonably economi�al technical vocabulary and a rudimen­ tary model of disjunctive flows, from which something like a decent global analysis might emerge. Without some such analysis, it will be difficult to construct what John Hinkson calls a "social theory of postmodernity" that is adequatelyglobal (1990, 84).
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