The Show Part Two

by Jefferson Hansen

(This is a series of posts reflecting on the place of "the show" in contemporary society and culture.)

We can ask whether or not a tree falls in a forest when there is nobody there to hear it. But there is now a more relevant question: Does anything happen, in a meaningful way, if it is not filmed or photographed? Digitalized "film" is slowly being accorded more reality than that which is filmed. Something not filmed is becoming irrelevant and quaint. More and more, we live in the show, as spectators and participants.

The show is not everywhere. But it permeates everywhere and everything, with the possible exception of something like Amish culture.

Think of Christian hardcore punk rock.

Sometimes we model our behavior on the show: we may behave in a reproduction of the publicized traits of our favorite celebrities and sports heroes. This is highly contextualized. We can most behave like the show when we are relaxed and in our down time, with friends. This is when we can show our "true" self. To behave this way at work would, most likely, invite ridicule if not worse.

Our true selves have been borrowed from the show. Our identities, at their most intimate, hinge on what parts of the show we attend to.

Demasking is one of its favorite moves: to show pictures or films that raise questions about someone's created identity. Embarrassment is sometimes the essence of a show.

There is almost no silence anymore. Music, much of it computer-generated, is everywhere, and is sometimes layered. For instance, a gym may have a soundtrack playing. Many of those working out may have earbuds in. They may be tuned to a talk show, to music radio, to downloaded music tracks.

The music in your earbuds is not necessarily more pressing than the needs of the person next to you. If he or she keeled over in pain or tapped you on the shoulder to get your attention, you would prioritize. Most likely, however, this is only an intermission from the show. You would replace your earbuds and get back to exercising as soon as possible.

Face-to-face contact is merely the raw material of the show. 

"The show" is the underlying assumptions of this culture. "A show" is a particular manifestation. Sometimes there is an audience of one: imagine someone creating personalized playlists and listening to them on earbuds.

There is a difference between modeling yourself after a hero and reproducing part of a show as an assertion of identity. The former implies some thought and analysis. The latter is visceral.

The show cannot take up everything. But, more and more, it is what we attend to. And then shows are made of the quaint aspects of life seemingly outside of the show. The show goes even there. It colonizes experience.

Right now, in 2014, there is a fetish for the quaint, the small time, the singular. This may have begun as a frustration with the standardization of the show in its earlier manifestations. (Think of representations of Levittown.) However, now it is one of the favorite topics of the show. You can only make a few shows on the Model T. You can make myriad shows about custom-made cars.

The show, now, thrives on multiplicity.

While there were antecedents in print culture, the show began in a noticeable way with the advent of radio.

The show and electricity go hand in hand.

Most babies probably see or hear a tv show before meeting grandpa, grandma, aunts or uncles.