Essay on Stuart Hall: Cultural Theorist and Enemy of Thatcherism

For the next two to three blogs I would like to post parts of a paper I wrote about Stuart Hall, one of the chief figures for the New Left movement in Britain and one of the developmental figures in the burgeoning cultural studies discipline.  This first posting will be a brief summation of Stuart Hall's life and his problem with the Margaret Thatcher regime in England.

I: The Life and Times of Stuart Hall

            Stuart Hall is the man who coined the phrase Thatcherism and for that hundreds of political pundits should be grateful.  Without that blanket term, many political pundits would have had to come up with their own unique buzzwords and theories about the cultural changes during the 1980’s rather than ripping off the work of Dr. Hall.  Unlike most political creatures, Stuart Hall is more than a man who coined a great phrase.  His life started off like most human lives start off; with his birth.  He was born in Kingston, Jamaica in 1932 to middle class parents.  Due to his families higher class status he was able to get a proper English public school education and later was accepted into the Rhodes Scholar program as a member of Oxford College.  He was only the second black man to become a Rhodes Scholar partially due to the fact that the whole scholarship is named after a rather racist explorer (just a guess) (Journal of Blacks in Higher Education p.59).  Despite getting his Ph.D. in American Literature, Stuart Hall found his true calling to be cultural analysis with an emphasis on Marxist ideology.  His emphasis was on race based policies in Britain quickly discovered that as a black man in a mixed race marriage in the early sixties, he was not going to be treated as an equal by the stiff upper lip of the old British elite.  In fact the local Conservative party won an election with the Slogan “If you want a Nigger neighbor, vote Labour” (Journal of Blacks in Higher Education p. 59).  It is no wonder that Hall became one of the founders of the New Left in Britain. 

            As a founder of the New Left in Britain, he helped to create the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies at Birmingham University.  Here he developed many foundational texts for the cultural studies discipline including his essay, “The Spectacle of the ‘Other’”, which sets out the groundwork for how minorities are represented in popular media forms.  His works deal with issues of identity politics and how people are both consumers and producers of culture.  A person’s identity is something that is not a static idea, but something that is constantly influx and always an ongoing process.  His studies of difference and identity politics eventually overlapped with politics and he became one of the biggest critics and writers outside of the punk rock movement on the Thatcher years in Britain.  He is perhaps the ground zero of the anti-Thatcher movement due to his coining of the term Thatcherism and his countless essays which masterfully criticized every aspect of her eleven year reign.  His criticism on Thatcher focused on how she differed from the Tories of old and was a new form of conservative who would attempt to rapidly and fundamentally change the British Welfare state into a a country of do-it-yourselfers and people who pull themselves up by their own bootstraps (Journal of Blacks in Higher Education p. 59).  He also turned his criticism inwards and called out the waning left movement and their inability to conquer the dominant Thatcher narrative by their failure to modernize.  The spirit of 1945 would not a win an election in 1983 as those old factions no longer supported the old Labour cause(Hall 216).  For all of his work, he has been called “Black Britain's leading theorist of black Britain” (that by Henry Louis Gates)(Adams Guardian.com).

            Now, where did Stuart Hall come up with all these fantastic and groundbreaking ideas?  One answer is that he just did, and stop asking questions, it's rather rude.  The less rude and perhaps real answer is that his work has been guided by two major influences.  The first being the work of Antonio Gramsci, an Italian Marxist.  In nearly every essay in his book, The Hard Road to Renewal: Thatcherism and the Crisis of the Left, there is at least one mention of Gramsci.  Hall is most interested in Gramsci’s discussion of hegemony and his other Marxist leanings.  His other biggest influence is the Trinidadian intellectual C.L.R. James (Phillips p.38).  Hall followed James’ lead on by focusing and writing about the relationship between politics and culture and claimed that James is the model on how to be a black intellectual (Phillips p. 41).  That looks like a crystal clear ringing endorsement.

II: The Problem

            Naturally, the question of what is making Stuart Hall so mad arises?  What is getting this esteemed gentleman’s goat so much that he has devoted his late 1970’s and 1980’s to writing about a particular issue.  The problem that Stuart Hall is writing about is the rise of and eventual reign of Margaret Thatcher and her policies conveniently known as Thatcherism.  He is concerned as to how Thatcher was able to seize power and how she was able to keep it.  He is concerned with why the left hasn’t been able to win an election against this very divisive politician.  Every popular musician (other than Ian Rubbish and the Bizarros) hated Margaret Thatcher and yet she ruled from 1979 to 1990.  She started a frivolous war with Argentina and was good friends with Ronald Reagan, yet still held on to power.  It is an oddity that Stuart Hall means to discuss and explore.  Margaret Thatcher and her policies were said to bring about a profound change to the British welfare state and would hurt virtually anybody who was not a rich white male or Margaret Thatcher and yet she still won numerous elections (in America this phenomena is called what's the matter with Kansas).  Hall is interested as to how Thatcher kept winning elections and how she used a combination of traditionalism and an appeal to old British Patriotism to stay in power. 

The problem does not fully rest with the acceptance of authoritarianism by the British public, but it also falls to the terrible and inadequate response of the British left to unite and defeat this menacing foe.  The British left was afraid of being known as being known as a bunch of socialists and instead of owning the term and fighting back, they tried to defeat Thatcherism on it’s own terms and failed miserably.  Another strike against the British left is that they have failed to modernize.  Hall seeks to explore how the British left has failed to update the term of socialism and how he thinks it will never take over Britain (Hall p. 180).  The failings of the left and the reign of Thatcherism make up the political and social events that concern Hall and constitute many of his writings in the cocaine fueled late 70’s all through the crack-cocaine fueled 80’s.


END OF PART 1

To Burn Out or to Fade Away Part 2

On Saturday I laid out the pros and cons to the burning out part of Neil Young’s famous “it’s better to burn out than to fade away” line from the song “Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)”.  Now the time has come to turn our attention to the fading away part.  Below I have presented a few pros and cons to those who fade away into that good night.

Pro:  It doesn’t hurt to live the last years of your life being known as a rock ‘n’ roll survivor or a living legend.  Being called a survivor of rock is one of the greatest compliments that can be bestowed on those who read the warning labels or decided to stick it out in rehab.  It means you moved above the madness and have entered a sphere of fame and adulation that few alive can boast subscription to.  Walking around as a living legend sounds good to me if only for the revered silence that will accompany you’re every movement.

Con:  That moment when you realize you aren’t the center of the hurricane anymore.  World leaders speak of your most famous policies as outdated and irrelevant, talk shows book you as the second guest, and rumors of your physical death start to prop up more than you’d like them to.  Giving up an adoring spotlight to lead a life of semi-fame and casual appearances on VH1 nostalgia panel shows is an arduous way to live out the rest of your life.

Pro:  Seeing the accolades roll in.  Eventually the masses will appreciate what you brought to the public discourses from those great scenery chewing starring turns to your later more nuanced character work.  By following the ever popular the law of averages, an award is bound to fall straight into your lap.  It could be anything from an Oscar to an honorary hall of fame induction.  Sure you can win an award if you succumb early, but how will you know and enjoy the glow that comes from basking in the respect of your selected peers and distinguished enemies?  Being the guy who spends the rest of his days accepting awards for past successes sounds like a decent way to go out. 

Con:  You’ll probably have made some moves that would embarrass and disgust your younger, cooler self.  These choices could range from collecting donations from the NRA to inserting some lite dubstep into an album.  The longer you live, the more likely you are to make a few critical blunders and to attract the vultures of the “what ever happened” crowd.  Nobody wants to read the part of their unauthorized biography that discusses the “unpopular years that lead to their swift removal from the cool kids table”, especially if the chapter has that exact title (it also says that your work needs to interest a better group of biographers).

Pro:  Not everybody fades away.  The greats that make it find a way to keep on keepin’ on.  Bob Dylan survived his brush with martyrdom (the motorcycle crash in 1966) and we are all better for it.  Filmmakers like Martin Scorsese and Woody Allen certainly haven’t faded away and have continued to make great films into their golden years.  Getting up there in years doesn’t mean the spark of creativity fades away.  Seeing multiple generations connect with your work and vision must rank high on the list of things that make the designer/evil corporate suit/airplane pilot village elder year’s happy ones.

Con:  Being compared to Norma Desmond.  You could host an extensive taxidermy collection, decorate your house in paper clippings of all your former triumphs, or give numerous rambling interviews to HLN but you’ll never be able to out crazy Norma Desmond.  She is the end all of those who fade away and you’ll always be a medium shot to her close up perfection.  My advice is to quit while you are way behind.

There ends my take on the old debate between burning out and fading away.  Feel free to comment on which lifestyle you prefer and any other pros and cons to either lifestyle choice that I may freely appropriate into my next column about this topic.        

                                                                                                                                                        

To Burn Out or to Fade Away Part 1

The phrase it’s better to burn out than fade away has been etched into our collective consciousness ever since Neil Young uttered it in his great song “Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)”.  Many of our most popular artists/politicians/residents of earth have decided to follow this advice willingly while others have accidently stumbled into martyrdom (some via a ham sandwich).  Today I would like to begin a two part series on burning out and fading away.  Today I will discuss the pros and cons of burning out.

Pro:  Going out a number 1 has numerous perks.  For one, you become a mythical figure like a unicorn or James Dean.  Shrines will be made at your grave.  Your familiar haunts will house weary pilgrims seeking to become one with their savior.  Every story becomes a link in a larger chain about how you were too great for this small, petty world.  We failed you becomes the dominant narrative rather than you did something stupid and died prematurely.  You are no longer the popular creative type/rich heiress/ice cream salesman who went too soon.  You have ascended into the permanence of legend simply due to misreading a warning label.  

Con:  Death.  In my opinion, dying is one of the worst things (if not the worst thing) that can happen in life.  If I had to choose between dying a legend or living as a has-been for 30 years, I’ll take the 30 years of listening to “is that guy still around”.  For me this surely beats being a universally revered dead guy whose DEAD (just to clarify, I have an enormous fear of death). 

Pro:  You never have a fat Elvis stage.  Nobody wants to see their current sequined self juxtaposed next to their suave hip-shaking younger self.  It’s depressing for everybody except for your mortal enemies and possibly your family (if you haven’t ruined that by now you fat has-been).  Dying young ensures that you will stay pretty in the public’s eye (unless they see the autopsy photos) and could get you on the cover of Rolling Stone as a sex symbol (click on this link for more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/hes-hot-hes-sexy-hes-dead-rolling-stones-1981-jim-morrison-cover-story-20110701). 

Con:  Where was all this good will when you were alive?  During your so called “legendary” existence every goddamn action garnered backlash, criticism, and nasty Thomas Nash cartoons that people still don’t fully understand.  Why was it that a premature death was the only way for this extraordinary civil right leader/streetballer/glassmaker to get some proper recognition?  Why if we gave them some credit during their lifetime and didn’t lowball them, they would have achieved the honor of appearing in my column about fading away (coming this Tuesday!).

Pro: People wondering what could have been is a lot better than people asking what the hell happened.  When you die young, you become a symbol of untapped potential.  How would Jimi Hendrix have changed or adapted to the trends of the 70’s?  What would an RFK presidency entailed?  What if the flames didn’t cover Joan of Arc?  These questions are a lot more fun to ask than what ever happened to so and so, they used to mean something. 

Con: Death at an early age.  I cannot overstate this enough.  Being dead is on my list of things I don’t want to do, right next to being in the immediate stages of dying.  So there’s that point again.

Above were a few pros and cons to burning out.  Come Tuesday I will share the pros and cons for fading away.  

Anxiety: A Love Story

Anxiety starts in the upper chest and radiates throughout the body creating a swirling sensation of unease and nausea.  All thoughts of fighting the crippling feeling die by the wayside as the saliva in the throat alternatively accumulates and subsides.  Why the sensation of anxiety has come on is a curious question and fields to a host of simple, but possibly wrong answers.  The mind is a tool of varying mystery and today it has been overwhelmed by something.  Eyes have widened and the mouth has moved into a squiggly line befitting a comic strip before opening up for the dreaded gagging motion.  The familiar twitching motions have returned and they only intensify the feeling known as anxiety.  Flurries of psychbabble flood the mind searching for a definitive reason as to why the sensation of anxiety has sprung a full-fledged attack.  Is it the nearby presence of an ex-lover or prospective lover?  Could it be the discomforting feeling of looking out into a deep, warm night pondering the future of your fate?  Perhaps it is the rush of entering the unknown and fearing the dangers it unlocks.  Whatever the reason or whatever the cause, it has nearly brought on that most unpleasant fear that your anxiety may unleash itself in a physical form and that physical form may manifest itself on your pants or on your shoes.  That does nothing but cause various hostile sensations to swell and battle each other.  Nothing says stability like mental anguish and physical anxiety battling each other for control of a fragile nerve.  In this case the winner is physical anxiety and the prize is a generous heaping of projectile vomit.  Once the vomit has been released from the premise, the body has become nothing more than a glorified encasement of vital organs and blood.  Gone is the strength to do anything but take a few steps and meekly ask for some water while thinking of a witty way to defuse the tension/awkwardness of spewing all over ninth and Broadway.  After wobbling and staggering for a spell, vestiges of your old life before the incident begin to reappear and are yours for the taking.  You grab them and jumpstart the reclaiming process.  It’s good to be back in a state where the old, familiar fears have been put to rest.  The anxiety is still there, but made harmless by the worst way to release anxiety.  You win this time projectile vomit, but let’s not make it a habit (your teeth will be grateful for this proclamation).  Next time will be different (maybe).  But for now it’s time to rejoin the night and enjoy what’s left of a rather beautiful evening.  Nothing like a night out on the town.   

Mission Statement - A New Blog-inning

Some great companies derive their greatness from their wealth of ideas, their superior management style, or their unique take on what the world needs now (don’t even think about saying love, sweet love).  Others have employed a black turtleneck.  Despite these varied focuses, each company has had one crucial element in common, the willingness to experiment.  To be able to change and to grasp at the unknown is what separates the great ones from the merely pretty good ones.  After careful consideration and a quick consultation with my spiritual adviser (me) I have decided to bring this blog into the age of experimentation.  Today marks the beginning of an experiment with this blog.  For too long this once proud blog has floundered under lazy leadership that would rather read the comments on A.V. Club articles than write pieces of varying wit and candor.  That ends today.  The blog known as Thoughts with Some Ramblings (and other parts I can’t recall at the moment) will be undergoing a Sea Change or a Mutations but not a Midnight Vultures.  Starting today, this blog will post on every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday until I forget or find myself entrenched in another pop culture site’s comment section.

To recap, the wild experimentation will be a strict schedule of postings.  When the clock hits Tuesday, Thursday, or Sunday there will be a new blog.  Reread that last sentence and take it in.  That’s three more blogs than I’ve written in all of last month.  I know, I know, I’m a wild man.  But alas, I’ve grown nostalgic for the days when my blog had page views.  I miss checking my view counter and seeing page views that are greater than the unforgiving ever judgmental zero.  I would also like to add that I will resist the urge to write a lame blog about how I have nothing to write about and then the blog goes nowhere for 500 or so words before a lame ass ending.  I’m not interested in wasting my time like that.  At this point in time I would like to add that I care about your “precious” time too.  Obliviously not as much as I care about my own time, but I assume you too have things of importance to do like call into your local sports radio station as Jeff from the Bronx or pretend grad school was totally worth it. 

Today marks the re-launch of the re-beginning of this re-blog.  The first hundred posts were fun to write but I owe it to the blogging community and my favorite reader (hint it’s me) to crank out these posts with some consistency.  I would like to offer a sincere thank you to all who have read my re-mission statement and will be coming back on Thursday to partake in this wacky experiment of having set posting times.  Those who return on Sunday will have my utmost gratitude and people who come back on the following Tuesday, well they better watch what’s coming for them.  I mean that last part in the nicest way possible.  

The Fifth Day of May or Isis Day

Isis Day is a day like no other.  In short, it is about proving yourself to your one true love.  It’s either about that or going through pyramids made of ice to find an empty casket.  The meaning changes on every Isis day.  Now one naturally wonders how to properly celebrate this scared of unholy spiritual holidays and if it will interfere with my Cinco de Mayo plans.  Never fear weary traveler, both holidays are compatible and mean each other no harm or distress.  So let us delve into how to celebrate the 5^th day of May.

First, one must prematurely marry or proclaim unyielding love to their lover.  It must be premature because then why would you cut off your hair and ride straight away?  You’ve done nothing to deserve this love and must run away, hoping to make it up to them soon as a wiser, better person.  To accomplish this, ride into the wild, unknown country where you cannot go wrong.  Once you have arrived at this country, hitch up your pony (or traveling vehicle of choice) to a post (or parking spot) on the right and enter a Laundromat.  This is a necessity as you’ve been traveling for some time and probably smell quite foul.  If one is to go on an adventure for a true love, it is best to smell one’s best.  Now stow away in the Laundromat and wait for a man to approach you.  If the man asks you for a match, it’s the right guy.  Anybody else is just impeding on your voyage of love and discovery.  The first thing you’ll notice about this man is that he is not an ordinary fellow because before you can pull out a match, he’ll hit you with a proposition of asking “if you’re looking for something easy to catch”.  Tell the man you’re flat broke (or you got no money) and he’ll laugh saying that it won’t be necessary.  Follow this man out to conclude part one of Isis Day.  Wait for the harmonica and instrumental break to end and we’ll hitch it down to part two.

As the black cover of night approaches you two will head out for the cold and the north.  Since you have no money to pay this man and are heading for a barren place, present this man with your traveling blanket.  Knowing that this is a sincere gesture, the man will return the favor by giving you his word.  That will be enough for now.  He also relays the information that you’ll be back by the 4^th.  You realize that somehow answered your question of where are we going and it is unequivocally the best news that you’ve ever heard.  The journey is long and arduous and so naturally at this point in the Isis Day celebration your mind begins to wander.  The details of the wandering don’t matter as long as you hit these three crucial points of thought: turquoise, diamonds, and the world’s biggest necklace.  When you hit the canyons and the cold becomes unbearable and rather devilish, avert your wandering mind back to thoughts of your true love.  Think about some of the things they told you like getting remarried and how their thoughts on your apparent recklessness.  Only touch on a few of your loves lesser sayings because, and this is crucial to understanding the celebration, you simply can’t remember all the best things they said.  Pause for a raucous musical interlude before continuing the journey.

After much traveling, you and your partner will finally hit the vaunted pyramids covered in ice.  Here the journey will become clear and your partner will finally go into the why of the journey.  Hidden in one of the caskets is a body that will bring a good price and he needs some help digging it out.  In search of a love-affirming adventure you’ve become a grave robber and a rather willing one at that.  Brave the howling wind and frankly outrageous snow and start chopping because it won’t be long until your partner succumbs to the conditions.  His death isn’t contagious (plus you’ve already taken a shot for what he died of), but don’t for one minute stop chopping!  You’ve got to go on for the sake of your love and perhaps that of your partner.  But before you can break into the tomb, take a break and dance to the third musical interlude.

Now it’s judgment time.  Break into the tomb and lift up the casket.  I’m not going to lie here because that would be cruel, but that moment when you open up the casket is going rank on high on your list of personal disappointments.  There’s nothing in there, no jewels, no nothing.  Your partner was just being a friendly fellow and never expected you to take up his offer.  Somebody is looking like a real madman now and that somebody is you.  So you’re left with an empty casket and a dead man.  Put one and one together and that neatly wraps up that dilemma.  Say a quick prayer for satisfactions sake and bam, you’ve proved yourself to your love.  All that’s left to do is to ride back and declare your love to them.  After a quick voyage, you’ve found your love alone in a meadow by the creek.  The way to reproach your love following an odyssey is to come in through the east so the sun blinds your eyes.  Once you’ve cursed the sun away you’ve vanquished your final foe and are ready to be with the one you so desire.  Answer their various queries and concerns (where ya been, you look different) in vague terms (no place special, well I guess) until they gets to their central thesis of “you gonna stay” which you will answer with a hearty YEAH!  The celebration is nearing completion.  As you look out on what you did and where you went for your personal Isis think about how what drives you to them is what drives you insane.  But always remember the way that they smiled on the 5^th Day of May in (hopefully) the drizzling rain.  If there is no rain, create some.  Trust me, that’s the easiest part of celebrating Isis Day. 

Or another worthy celebration of Isis Day is to listen to the song “Isis” by Bob Dylan off his 1976 album, Desire.  The Live 1975 version is a good listen as well.