Welcome to the "small rooms" owners' club.
Once again, pro sound treatment methods (bass traps, reflectors, absorbers and soundproofing) are essential for studios and can be useful for "larger rooms". No-one is saying otherwise.
But one-metre deep bass traps are not feasible in a small room. Nor is six-inch absorption padding all round the walls. Isn't the room small enough already? Nor are serious soundproofing measures, which also require thick lumps of absorbent materials. And have you noticed that the rooms in treatment videos belong to people who don't read, have no art or decoration, and store their CD's and records in another room? No wonder they need absorbers and diffusers. Real rooms have bookcases, shelving, pictures on the wall, and other stuff. Some of that helps. What else can we do?
If you are following the user manual for your speakers, you will be sitting about two-three metres from them. No matter what size your room is. Or what the speakers are. (Have you seen how close people sit to those Wilson towers?)
Contrary to some commentators' sniffy remarks, thick pile carpets and loose hanging curtains a distance from the wall do work: see this table of absorption coefficients. Curtains and carpets are pretty much third for absorption after foams and fibres, and then people.
Am I sure I'm not rationalising my unwillingness to spring for a dozen GiK acoustics panels for £700 or so, plus all that drilling and hanging? Well, that's why I write things like this: to make sure I've got my facts in a row. And I think I have.
There wouldn't be home hi-fi if the first thing you were told by your dealer was "we couldn't sell you any of this with a clear conscience until you've had your listening room re-built by an expert, otherwise you'll just come back and complain it sounds terrible". It has to be pretty good out of the box in nearly all circumstances.
We small-roomers are left with the simple things, which are more about the overall sound of the room than specific flaws.
Rugs for wooden floors
Curtains to the full width of the room so that the corners as well as the windows are covered
Shelves with books, record collections, even storage (as long as it's not a wall of boxes), for dispersion and absorption. Just don't line everything up neatly or you'll lose the dispersive effect
Symmetry: equal spacing between left and right speakers to their near walls, same distance from the front wall, both at ear height; books or records (aka 'damping') to the right wall means books or records ('damping') to the left wall in the same place.
All that work for that conclusion? Hey, I saved a lot of money on those acoustic panels.
So I'm upgrading the carpets and doing something about the (long story) curtains on the windows. The front wall is going to be a curtain with folds hanging from a tension bar. That will do for now. In time I may change the furniture around and get some more natural damping.
Monday, 8 November 2021
Thursday, 4 November 2021
Room Treatment For "Small Rooms" - Part Two
Room treatment is mostly about room modes and reflections. (Sound-proofing is taken to be out-of-scope since it needs building work.)
Room modes first. These are sound waves that bounce back and forth between the walls, or floor and ceiling, because the wavelengths fit the dimensions just right. This is where boomy bass comes from.
Small rooms are held to be a lost cause because they have many, many of these resonating frequencies. That may be true, but there's a VERY important qualification: those room modes only matter if any of them correspond to one of the 88 frequencies used in the music you are most likely listening to.
Yep. There are zillions of frequencies that could be used to make music, but almost all Western Music is made with 88 of them. Here's a list. You will notice the only ones that are whole numbers are the A's from 55Hz upwards. All the rest are given to five (5) decimal places, in a scheme called twelve-tone equal temperament (which is a music theory rabbit-hole all its own). Western musical instruments are mass-produced to reproduce those notes. The chances of your room having a resonant frequency corresponding to some random note like F# above low-C (say) are approximately zero.
And if you do, all you have to do is move the speakers either back or forward a couple of centimetres (front-to-back resonance), or closer or further apart a couple of centimetres (side-to-side resonance), and it will disappear. (This is called positional equalisation.) It will not to be replaced by one on another note because a) the difference in wavelengths between any of the 88 notes is more than a couple of centimetres, and b) the resonance is between the speaker and the back or side walls, not between the front and back walls, which would be a room resonance, and your speaker is not mounted in the walls. (And even if it was, the point remains the same!)
If you have a floor-firing subwoofer, you can't fix a room mode like that, because the way the sound waves come from the subwoofer mean the resonance will be from floor-to-ceiling. Should a piece of music contain a hefty belt of 73.4 Hz D or 36.7 Hz D, both of which will pass into my subwoofer, I get a resonance. However, only five-string double-basses and instruments with names starting 'octocontra' ever get down to 36.7 Hz, leaving me with exactly one note that can trigger that resonance, and that's still way down low even for a string-bass. And no, very few pieces of music are written to include octocontra-anythings, and most orchestras would either not perform them, or use the programme or sleeve notes to apologise for the missing instrument. The lower you cross over to your subwoofer, the fewer possibilities for resonance you have.
How about all those reflections? According to the Master Handbook of Acoustics
Reflections good - sometimes. Too many and too loud, and the sound image will lose sharpness or you will get echoes. Too few and too quiet and the sound will feel muffled and dull. The trick is to get the sound quality you like.
Those with "small rooms", read on.
Room modes first. These are sound waves that bounce back and forth between the walls, or floor and ceiling, because the wavelengths fit the dimensions just right. This is where boomy bass comes from.
Small rooms are held to be a lost cause because they have many, many of these resonating frequencies. That may be true, but there's a VERY important qualification: those room modes only matter if any of them correspond to one of the 88 frequencies used in the music you are most likely listening to.
Yep. There are zillions of frequencies that could be used to make music, but almost all Western Music is made with 88 of them. Here's a list. You will notice the only ones that are whole numbers are the A's from 55Hz upwards. All the rest are given to five (5) decimal places, in a scheme called twelve-tone equal temperament (which is a music theory rabbit-hole all its own). Western musical instruments are mass-produced to reproduce those notes. The chances of your room having a resonant frequency corresponding to some random note like F# above low-C (say) are approximately zero.
And if you do, all you have to do is move the speakers either back or forward a couple of centimetres (front-to-back resonance), or closer or further apart a couple of centimetres (side-to-side resonance), and it will disappear. (This is called positional equalisation.) It will not to be replaced by one on another note because a) the difference in wavelengths between any of the 88 notes is more than a couple of centimetres, and b) the resonance is between the speaker and the back or side walls, not between the front and back walls, which would be a room resonance, and your speaker is not mounted in the walls. (And even if it was, the point remains the same!)
If you have a floor-firing subwoofer, you can't fix a room mode like that, because the way the sound waves come from the subwoofer mean the resonance will be from floor-to-ceiling. Should a piece of music contain a hefty belt of 73.4 Hz D or 36.7 Hz D, both of which will pass into my subwoofer, I get a resonance. However, only five-string double-basses and instruments with names starting 'octocontra' ever get down to 36.7 Hz, leaving me with exactly one note that can trigger that resonance, and that's still way down low even for a string-bass. And no, very few pieces of music are written to include octocontra-anythings, and most orchestras would either not perform them, or use the programme or sleeve notes to apologise for the missing instrument. The lower you cross over to your subwoofer, the fewer possibilities for resonance you have.
How about all those reflections? According to the Master Handbook of Acoustics
Our hearing mechanism integrates spatially separated sounds over short intervals, and under certain conditions tends to perceive them as coming from one location.... in an auditorium, the ear and brain have the ability to gather all reflections arriving within about 35ms after the direct sound, and combine...them to give the impression that the entire sound field is coming from the direction of the original source, even though reflections from other directions are involved...This is called the Precedence Effect, Hass effect, or law of the first wavefront.In more familiar terms, the ear has a buffer about 35ms deep. At the speed of sound that's 12m. I am two metres from my speakers. Any sound along a path strictly less than 14 metres from speaker to ear will have its sound combined with the direct sound from the speakers. That's all the first reflections in my room. So in a "small room", first reflections do not appear as separate sound sources. Instead, those reflections give the sound a sense of spaciousness which is greater as the power of the reflections increases. Reflections have to be quite loud before they are perceived as echoes. (In my "small room", the first reflections are travelling something like 3m to reach me, so they are 4/9 (inverse square law) as powerful as the direct sound, which leads to a drop of 3dB in volume and whatever absorption I get at the wall. Every little helps.)
Reflections good - sometimes. Too many and too loud, and the sound image will lose sharpness or you will get echoes. Too few and too quiet and the sound will feel muffled and dull. The trick is to get the sound quality you like.
Those with "small rooms", read on.
Monday, 1 November 2021
Room Treatment For "Small Rooms" - Part One
Steve Gutenberg says we should try room treatments. John Darko has those GiK boards all over the place. I'm starting to feel I'm not responding to the memo.
Except...
Acoustic treatment for studios is a real thing: studios need all the soundproofing their owner can afford, and a lot of plain old echo-deadening in the recording space. Performers don't like heavily damped studio acoustics, which is why some of them prefer to plug into the board and hear each other over headphones. Then they can perform together in a room that looks as if it was designed for humans.
Audio design for a concert-hall is a real thing. Soundproofing from outside noise, getting a decent quality of sound in all the seats, tuning it to be lively or dry, depending on the taste of the resident orchestra, or the kind of music that it will be played in it, all this is serious stuff. Consult someone with an acoustics degree. Something similar might be said for the listening rooms of millionaires, who can afford to have chunks of their houses re-built or re-furbished.
I can't, and I assume you can't either. I have a rectangular room that's 14L x 10w x 7.7H in feet, just over 1,000 cu ft. In the trade this is called a small room. The Master Handbook of Acoustics(*) dismisses any room of less that 1,500 cu ft as a lost cause. Others define "small" as anything smaller than a classroom.
Watch a few room treatment You Tube videos and you will wonder how on earth you are able to hear anything, let alone identify it as Miles Davis' Sketches of Spain. What with diffusion, room modes, reflections off the floor, the ceiling, the side walls, the back corners, runaway bass that needs to be trapped... it's a wonder you can hear the tuba.
Except...
Once the speakers and listening position are set up right...
...and you've got some carpet on that varnished pine floor...
...and you've accepted, like me, the inevitability of hauling the couch from the back of the room so that my head was the third point of a (nearly) equilateral triangle with the speakers (**)
...you can indeed hear the tuba. And everything else. And no obvious echoes or reflections.
How does this happen?
Read on.
(*) That's what it's called, and you get 10,000 Audiophile Points for reading it.
(**) Which is where speaker manufacturers say to sit. If you don't do this, and put your speakers at different heights and distances from the walls, and have books below them, then the orchestra may well wind up in the upper-right-hand corner of your room. So a friend told me, anyway.
Except...
Acoustic treatment for studios is a real thing: studios need all the soundproofing their owner can afford, and a lot of plain old echo-deadening in the recording space. Performers don't like heavily damped studio acoustics, which is why some of them prefer to plug into the board and hear each other over headphones. Then they can perform together in a room that looks as if it was designed for humans.
Audio design for a concert-hall is a real thing. Soundproofing from outside noise, getting a decent quality of sound in all the seats, tuning it to be lively or dry, depending on the taste of the resident orchestra, or the kind of music that it will be played in it, all this is serious stuff. Consult someone with an acoustics degree. Something similar might be said for the listening rooms of millionaires, who can afford to have chunks of their houses re-built or re-furbished.
I can't, and I assume you can't either. I have a rectangular room that's 14L x 10w x 7.7H in feet, just over 1,000 cu ft. In the trade this is called a small room. The Master Handbook of Acoustics(*) dismisses any room of less that 1,500 cu ft as a lost cause. Others define "small" as anything smaller than a classroom.
Watch a few room treatment You Tube videos and you will wonder how on earth you are able to hear anything, let alone identify it as Miles Davis' Sketches of Spain. What with diffusion, room modes, reflections off the floor, the ceiling, the side walls, the back corners, runaway bass that needs to be trapped... it's a wonder you can hear the tuba.
Except...
Once the speakers and listening position are set up right...
...and you've got some carpet on that varnished pine floor...
...and you've accepted, like me, the inevitability of hauling the couch from the back of the room so that my head was the third point of a (nearly) equilateral triangle with the speakers (**)
...you can indeed hear the tuba. And everything else. And no obvious echoes or reflections.
How does this happen?
Read on.
(*) That's what it's called, and you get 10,000 Audiophile Points for reading it.
(**) Which is where speaker manufacturers say to sit. If you don't do this, and put your speakers at different heights and distances from the walls, and have books below them, then the orchestra may well wind up in the upper-right-hand corner of your room. So a friend told me, anyway.
Friday, 22 October 2021
Cold Re-Boot
I got a cold just over a week ago. Didn't have the runny nose or coughs, did have shortness of breath when climbing stairs and that feeling that walking to the corner shop might be a mission I would not come back from. It lasts about three-four days. It wasn't the supercold. It wasn't the Virus. It would have been worse if I'd been commuting and waking up at 05:15 in the incubation period.
So I went into the Big Smoke after that, the only things on my to-do list being a haircut at George The Barber and a suntan at the Covent Garden Tanning Shop. I've been going to both since the early 2000's. I had lunch in Balans, and I've been eating there since the early-2000's as well. I damn near fell asleep on the train into Waterloo, and didn't quite wake up for the rest of the day. After lunch I went to Green Park, where I sat and dozed a little for a while, and then headed back to Waterloo. At some point when I was underground the rain tipped down.
I spent a short while in Fopp, looking for some box sets to watch. (I know, I should be streaming from Amazon Prime.) During this, I realised that I'm simply not attracted to today's cultural products, in part because the SJW infestation and remember-our-audience-is-mostly-female slant in a lot of the stuff made in the last, oh, eight years or so? Maybe ten? It could be that this stuff will look in twenty years' time as horribly dated as Starsky and Hutch does now: "ah yes the SJW years" the historians will say "most of it is unwatchable propaganda now". It could be that this is the way it's going to be for a long time.
So what do I do? I become that guy who re-watches his DVD collection and listens to his CDs over and over? Also, I go back over the period I like and see what I missed: there's probably a reason why Heathers is still on sale now. Some of that stuff is too specifically freighted with memories and emotions: I would have to be very careful about watching Four Weddings and a Funeral or Truly, Madly, Deeply again, whereas I can put on Dogtown and Z-Boys almost any time.
My reading is all over the place and always has been. Who knows, I may even try to see if it's true that In Search of Lost Time is a book to re-read rather than read the first time. (So many of its fans say that.)
I've made some resolutions:
No more doomscrolling, at least before about lunch.
I'm going to use slightly lighter weights in the gym. What I'm doing now is leaving me tired for the rest of the day and much of the following day.
Diet. Yes. I should definitely do something about that. I may do a whole over-thinking post on it.
Read more maths - I should line up more maths blogs and visit the arXiv more often. I'm not talking about You Tube gee-whiz maths, but research-level stuff. I will not rest until I can explain in simple language what is an Adele (no, not the singer) ring.
Re-read (re-gaze-at) my art books. Lord knows I have enough.
Use the bus to get to the station. Why I haven't done this before. I'm not sure, maybe because I've always walked to the station. But with the Bus Checker app I be sure that they haven't cancelled the one I need.
So life goes on.
So I went into the Big Smoke after that, the only things on my to-do list being a haircut at George The Barber and a suntan at the Covent Garden Tanning Shop. I've been going to both since the early 2000's. I had lunch in Balans, and I've been eating there since the early-2000's as well. I damn near fell asleep on the train into Waterloo, and didn't quite wake up for the rest of the day. After lunch I went to Green Park, where I sat and dozed a little for a while, and then headed back to Waterloo. At some point when I was underground the rain tipped down.
I spent a short while in Fopp, looking for some box sets to watch. (I know, I should be streaming from Amazon Prime.) During this, I realised that I'm simply not attracted to today's cultural products, in part because the SJW infestation and remember-our-audience-is-mostly-female slant in a lot of the stuff made in the last, oh, eight years or so? Maybe ten? It could be that this stuff will look in twenty years' time as horribly dated as Starsky and Hutch does now: "ah yes the SJW years" the historians will say "most of it is unwatchable propaganda now". It could be that this is the way it's going to be for a long time.
So what do I do? I become that guy who re-watches his DVD collection and listens to his CDs over and over? Also, I go back over the period I like and see what I missed: there's probably a reason why Heathers is still on sale now. Some of that stuff is too specifically freighted with memories and emotions: I would have to be very careful about watching Four Weddings and a Funeral or Truly, Madly, Deeply again, whereas I can put on Dogtown and Z-Boys almost any time.
My reading is all over the place and always has been. Who knows, I may even try to see if it's true that In Search of Lost Time is a book to re-read rather than read the first time. (So many of its fans say that.)
I've made some resolutions:
No more doomscrolling, at least before about lunch.
I'm going to use slightly lighter weights in the gym. What I'm doing now is leaving me tired for the rest of the day and much of the following day.
Diet. Yes. I should definitely do something about that. I may do a whole over-thinking post on it.
Read more maths - I should line up more maths blogs and visit the arXiv more often. I'm not talking about You Tube gee-whiz maths, but research-level stuff. I will not rest until I can explain in simple language what is an Adele (no, not the singer) ring.
Re-read (re-gaze-at) my art books. Lord knows I have enough.
Use the bus to get to the station. Why I haven't done this before. I'm not sure, maybe because I've always walked to the station. But with the Bus Checker app I be sure that they haven't cancelled the one I need.
So life goes on.
Tuesday, 19 October 2021
Editorial Policy
I've always regarded the posts on this blog as a way of working out my thoughts on whatever junk is wandering through my head at the time. Dogma, ideology and a fixed programme isn't my thing. Today's idea is tomorrow's history. Some things have remained the same throughout my life, but a lot changes, and not just the music I listen to, the pictures I look at and the novels and textbooks I read. I am never going to read much about chemistry, nor sociology, nor economics, and Greys' Anatomy will be forever a closed book to me (the book, sadly I saw about one series of the TV show).
Every now and then I will get caught in a rabbit-hole, which happened recently (see previous post). I made the mistake of re-reading about the Situationists, a group of philosophers / artists / intellectuals, whose reputation has always been a mystery to me. Those rabbit-holes can take up a lot of time and produce nothing especially conclusive or enlightening.
So I'm not so sure I want to have any old random junk going round my head anymore. When I was working it was more or less unavoidable, as work was one giant junk-heap in itself.
Some of the stuff I've written is not junk. Anything on music, some of the recovery-related things are the diary entries they are, but there is other stuff I wouldn't want to repeat.
At this point a lot of bloggers will announce they are going on holiday. I don't want to do that. Blogs never come back from holidays.
Writing a blog post about something has its own value. I can be a lot more unconsidered in a hand-written journal than a blog that strangers might read. Scribbling down my immediate thoughts and feelings can let them out, never to return, but not always, and I might go on thinking and feeling roughly the same about whatever-it-was. Whereas working up something suitable for third-party consumption forces me to review what I'm thinking, recognise the cliches, the contradictions, the obviously silly stuff and generally produce something that seems reasonable. That does change the way I think. That's the value.
But a trip down a rabbit-hole generally does not have a lot of value, which is why we call it a 'rabbit-hole'.
I'm going to try to hold myself back from the rabbit-holes - looking back, I haven't done too badly this year.
I'm also going to avoid reading the news, especially first thing in the morning. It's just doomscrolling ("the act of spending an excessive amount of screen time devoted to the absorption of negative news") and it is doing me no good.
I'll let you know how that works out.
Every now and then I will get caught in a rabbit-hole, which happened recently (see previous post). I made the mistake of re-reading about the Situationists, a group of philosophers / artists / intellectuals, whose reputation has always been a mystery to me. Those rabbit-holes can take up a lot of time and produce nothing especially conclusive or enlightening.
So I'm not so sure I want to have any old random junk going round my head anymore. When I was working it was more or less unavoidable, as work was one giant junk-heap in itself.
Some of the stuff I've written is not junk. Anything on music, some of the recovery-related things are the diary entries they are, but there is other stuff I wouldn't want to repeat.
At this point a lot of bloggers will announce they are going on holiday. I don't want to do that. Blogs never come back from holidays.
Writing a blog post about something has its own value. I can be a lot more unconsidered in a hand-written journal than a blog that strangers might read. Scribbling down my immediate thoughts and feelings can let them out, never to return, but not always, and I might go on thinking and feeling roughly the same about whatever-it-was. Whereas working up something suitable for third-party consumption forces me to review what I'm thinking, recognise the cliches, the contradictions, the obviously silly stuff and generally produce something that seems reasonable. That does change the way I think. That's the value.
But a trip down a rabbit-hole generally does not have a lot of value, which is why we call it a 'rabbit-hole'.
I'm going to try to hold myself back from the rabbit-holes - looking back, I haven't done too badly this year.
I'm also going to avoid reading the news, especially first thing in the morning. It's just doomscrolling ("the act of spending an excessive amount of screen time devoted to the absorption of negative news") and it is doing me no good.
I'll let you know how that works out.
Tuesday, 12 October 2021
Woke Is A Career, Not A Principle
Woke is not a moral movement of any kind. It isn't even a cockamamie religion.
Religious commandments come in three parts: one that defines its practices of worship and the believer's relationship with the God(s) of the religion; another that sets out how to behave like a decent member of society; and the third that creates shibboleths (a custom, principle, or belief distinguishing a particular class or group of people, especially a long-standing one regarded as outmoded or no longer important) to distinguish the Faithful from the kuffers. Bacon. Circumcision. Beards (or not). Eating beef. Leavened bread. Drinking alchohol. Wearing only plain clothes. These are usually found in the commentaries.
Obedience must be despite, not because: obedience to a rule means nothing, after all, if there's a beneficial reason for you do whatever it is, whether it is a rule or not. Shibboleths are great obedience-tests.
The best shibboleth is trivial and arbitrary. It's exactly because there is no reason for it (What did pigs ever do to anybody? What is so gosh-darn important about your wife wearing a scarf over her head?) that following it becomes a sign that one is Going Along to Get Along.
After a while, the shibboleths supersede the Commandments. Not killing someone who steals your sheep is tough: it's easier not to eat pork. Gesture becomes more important than substance. Exceptions are made for good earners who are prepared to put on the social show. A man may beat his wife and steal from his neighbour, but as long as he keeps his beard long, and kicks back to the Bishops, he will be considered a Good Man. It's shallow, but a lot of societies function with it.
A lot of people understand 'Woke' as just such a coherent, if fanatical, collection of shibboleths. Sexism, Trans Rights, Climate Change... that kind of stuff. These are, you guessed, useful idiots. That includes every journalist who writes as if 'Woke' is a coherent moral movement or trend.
It isn't.
Each of the Woke shibboleths has single-issue activist organisation(s) pushing it. Each of those has their financiers, for whatever reason they have, and their leaders and chief ideologues. Some of those people have conducted successful entryist campaigns in what were once respected institutions (the BBC, the Met Office, the National Trust, amongst others) and turned them into organisations campaigning for the chosen ideological ends.
Take #MeToo. Between its transformation into a high-profile movement in late 2017, and a New York Times article about a year later, around two hundred mostly older men had lost their jobs, and around one hundred of them had been replaced by women. That was not a consequence, it was the purpose.
The preferred targets are older, preferably with waning reputations. Who are in the way and vulnerable. Who may no longer be profitable and whose business partners want to dump them. Who can be sacrificed to protect the others. Who may have been a**holes, and can finally be dumped to everyone's great relief.
Woke is not about righting wrongs. It's not about social justice.
It's the instigators of a cancel-campaign demonstrating their activist moxie, a calling-card, a CV bullet-point, for a salaried job with an activist organisation.
It's a tactic for getting jobs in, or getting people sacked from, a group of professions: politicians, academics, media folk, pundits, authors, actors, photographers, artists, activists.
Why these professions? Because serious businesses have a lot of filters in hiring, and generally do a lot to protect their productive people from whatever is the latest parasitic nonsense. Also, the kinds of people who go in for this year's nonsense avoid jobs where they will have to do some useful work involving actual skills. This is why Wokesters don't fight for representation in sewage maintenance, bus driving, North Sea oil rigging, or even computer programming. Too dull, and too easy to see if someone actually knows anything and is contributing.
Next time you see Woke outrage, remember it's about getting someone into or out of a job.
Judge an idea by the company that keeps it: Woke sucks.
Religious commandments come in three parts: one that defines its practices of worship and the believer's relationship with the God(s) of the religion; another that sets out how to behave like a decent member of society; and the third that creates shibboleths (a custom, principle, or belief distinguishing a particular class or group of people, especially a long-standing one regarded as outmoded or no longer important) to distinguish the Faithful from the kuffers. Bacon. Circumcision. Beards (or not). Eating beef. Leavened bread. Drinking alchohol. Wearing only plain clothes. These are usually found in the commentaries.
Obedience must be despite, not because: obedience to a rule means nothing, after all, if there's a beneficial reason for you do whatever it is, whether it is a rule or not. Shibboleths are great obedience-tests.
The best shibboleth is trivial and arbitrary. It's exactly because there is no reason for it (What did pigs ever do to anybody? What is so gosh-darn important about your wife wearing a scarf over her head?) that following it becomes a sign that one is Going Along to Get Along.
After a while, the shibboleths supersede the Commandments. Not killing someone who steals your sheep is tough: it's easier not to eat pork. Gesture becomes more important than substance. Exceptions are made for good earners who are prepared to put on the social show. A man may beat his wife and steal from his neighbour, but as long as he keeps his beard long, and kicks back to the Bishops, he will be considered a Good Man. It's shallow, but a lot of societies function with it.
A lot of people understand 'Woke' as just such a coherent, if fanatical, collection of shibboleths. Sexism, Trans Rights, Climate Change... that kind of stuff. These are, you guessed, useful idiots. That includes every journalist who writes as if 'Woke' is a coherent moral movement or trend.
It isn't.
Each of the Woke shibboleths has single-issue activist organisation(s) pushing it. Each of those has their financiers, for whatever reason they have, and their leaders and chief ideologues. Some of those people have conducted successful entryist campaigns in what were once respected institutions (the BBC, the Met Office, the National Trust, amongst others) and turned them into organisations campaigning for the chosen ideological ends.
Take #MeToo. Between its transformation into a high-profile movement in late 2017, and a New York Times article about a year later, around two hundred mostly older men had lost their jobs, and around one hundred of them had been replaced by women. That was not a consequence, it was the purpose.
The preferred targets are older, preferably with waning reputations. Who are in the way and vulnerable. Who may no longer be profitable and whose business partners want to dump them. Who can be sacrificed to protect the others. Who may have been a**holes, and can finally be dumped to everyone's great relief.
Woke is not about righting wrongs. It's not about social justice.
It's the instigators of a cancel-campaign demonstrating their activist moxie, a calling-card, a CV bullet-point, for a salaried job with an activist organisation.
It's a tactic for getting jobs in, or getting people sacked from, a group of professions: politicians, academics, media folk, pundits, authors, actors, photographers, artists, activists.
Why these professions? Because serious businesses have a lot of filters in hiring, and generally do a lot to protect their productive people from whatever is the latest parasitic nonsense. Also, the kinds of people who go in for this year's nonsense avoid jobs where they will have to do some useful work involving actual skills. This is why Wokesters don't fight for representation in sewage maintenance, bus driving, North Sea oil rigging, or even computer programming. Too dull, and too easy to see if someone actually knows anything and is contributing.
Next time you see Woke outrage, remember it's about getting someone into or out of a job.
Judge an idea by the company that keeps it: Woke sucks.
Thursday, 7 October 2021
Situationism: Why?
I made the mistake of re-reading a book about the Situationists recently (The Beach Beneath the Street: The Everyday Life and Glorious Times of the Situationist International by McKenzie Wark). I'm going to explain why I did this so you don't have to.
Guy Debord, The Society of the Spectacle, psycho-geography, derives, detournaments and potlachs. A lot of their best jokes wound up as graffiti on Parisian walls in 1968.
I still didn't get it. What were they complaining about, exactly? What we used to call consumer society back in the 1960's? The Invisible Committee complain as much, forty years later, about self-improvement and (what amounts to) the ubiquity of the media conglomerates. What is it with French intellectuals and pop culture?
Something about pop-culture in the 1960's made Guy Debord think something new was happening? Organisations were starting to understand how to manipulate the news media. There was more advertising and it was more eye-catching. Even though the Beatles reminded us that money can't buy me love, the Sunday supplements were telling us that some nice new furniture would sure make life more comfortable and stylish. Pop-culture might have been trivial or merely amusing in the past, but now, Debord seemed to be suggesting, it was being used to was alienate ordinary people from each other and from a sense of community and commonality. For the nefarious purpose of making Capitalists richer.
Seems to call for a revolution of some sort. For French intellectuals at the time, that could only mean a political revolution. Wait. Didn't the Russians try that? And it didn't really work out too well. The Chinese weren't doing so well either, for all the hero-worship of Mao Tse-Tung. Political revolution without an accompanying social revolution had proved to be meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Political revolution was no longer possible, but without it, all other forms of 'revolution' are mere changes of fashion. Quite the corner to paint oneself into.
Nevertheless they felt that one has a duty to do something to protest, undermine, and generally not be so damn gung-ho about Capitalism and all its works. Hence the celebration by some French intellectuals of la perruque (otherwise known as 'skiving' in English), of minor acts of sabotage, of not going along with the system, petty thefts of time (visiting the dentist in work hours without 'making up the time') and other resources (searching for personal purchases on the company internet). The Invisible Committee, descendants of the Situationists, suggest communes that survive on a mixture of Welfare fraud, self-sufficiency, and part-time jobs. Even they admit that won't last long, but they don't suggest the next step. And it amounts to saying "find like-minded people", which is the last resort of the desperate.
These are petty acts, literally petite: 'small, insignificant'. The difference won't appear to the third place of decimals in the annual accounts of Groupe Casino (owners of Monoprix and others) or Amazon. That pettiness is the reason I just don't get the Situationists and their descendants. Haven't people been doing this since the first Egyptian to hide round the back of a pile of pyramid bricks?
Situationism and its descendants, Invisible or not, seem to have been taken up by people who don't find their current life entirely satisfying, but don't find it dis-satisfying enough to do anything about it. They do not want to engage in, say, Trade Union activism to improve their working conditions. Many of them have jobs that pay reasonably well but are mere bureaucratic roles (university lecturer, for instance), and they want to believe they are not just drones. They engage in la perruque, pay tradesmen in cash, insult everyone else's job (by calling it BS), and maybe even pay cash instead of card. This proves to them that they are resisting. For what that's worth.
Probably not the supporters Debord and the others were looking for, but in the end, a theory is judged by how it really-exists, by the company it keeps.
Guy Debord, The Society of the Spectacle, psycho-geography, derives, detournaments and potlachs. A lot of their best jokes wound up as graffiti on Parisian walls in 1968.
I still didn't get it. What were they complaining about, exactly? What we used to call consumer society back in the 1960's? The Invisible Committee complain as much, forty years later, about self-improvement and (what amounts to) the ubiquity of the media conglomerates. What is it with French intellectuals and pop culture?
Something about pop-culture in the 1960's made Guy Debord think something new was happening? Organisations were starting to understand how to manipulate the news media. There was more advertising and it was more eye-catching. Even though the Beatles reminded us that money can't buy me love, the Sunday supplements were telling us that some nice new furniture would sure make life more comfortable and stylish. Pop-culture might have been trivial or merely amusing in the past, but now, Debord seemed to be suggesting, it was being used to was alienate ordinary people from each other and from a sense of community and commonality. For the nefarious purpose of making Capitalists richer.
Seems to call for a revolution of some sort. For French intellectuals at the time, that could only mean a political revolution. Wait. Didn't the Russians try that? And it didn't really work out too well. The Chinese weren't doing so well either, for all the hero-worship of Mao Tse-Tung. Political revolution without an accompanying social revolution had proved to be meet the new boss, same as the old boss. Political revolution was no longer possible, but without it, all other forms of 'revolution' are mere changes of fashion. Quite the corner to paint oneself into.
Nevertheless they felt that one has a duty to do something to protest, undermine, and generally not be so damn gung-ho about Capitalism and all its works. Hence the celebration by some French intellectuals of la perruque (otherwise known as 'skiving' in English), of minor acts of sabotage, of not going along with the system, petty thefts of time (visiting the dentist in work hours without 'making up the time') and other resources (searching for personal purchases on the company internet). The Invisible Committee, descendants of the Situationists, suggest communes that survive on a mixture of Welfare fraud, self-sufficiency, and part-time jobs. Even they admit that won't last long, but they don't suggest the next step. And it amounts to saying "find like-minded people", which is the last resort of the desperate.
These are petty acts, literally petite: 'small, insignificant'. The difference won't appear to the third place of decimals in the annual accounts of Groupe Casino (owners of Monoprix and others) or Amazon. That pettiness is the reason I just don't get the Situationists and their descendants. Haven't people been doing this since the first Egyptian to hide round the back of a pile of pyramid bricks?
Situationism and its descendants, Invisible or not, seem to have been taken up by people who don't find their current life entirely satisfying, but don't find it dis-satisfying enough to do anything about it. They do not want to engage in, say, Trade Union activism to improve their working conditions. Many of them have jobs that pay reasonably well but are mere bureaucratic roles (university lecturer, for instance), and they want to believe they are not just drones. They engage in la perruque, pay tradesmen in cash, insult everyone else's job (by calling it BS), and maybe even pay cash instead of card. This proves to them that they are resisting. For what that's worth.
Probably not the supporters Debord and the others were looking for, but in the end, a theory is judged by how it really-exists, by the company it keeps.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)