The Society of the Spectacle

I recently re-read The Society of the Spectacle. I read the Knabb translation.

There is a pdf of the book online and physical copies are available. I needed it for my Kindle, however, so I downloaded the HTML, cleaned up the document and converted it to a mobi format.

UPDATE: Notes from the Sinister Quarter has created a superior version of this book. Go and get it from their website.

Below are some interesting quotes I found during this reading:

Kennedy survived as an orator to the point of delivering his own funeral oration, since Theodore Sorenson continued to write speeches for his successor in the same style that had contributed so much toward the dead man’s public persona.

Wherever abundant consumption is established, one particular spectacular opposition is always in the forefront of illusory roles: the antagonism between youth and adults. But real adults — people who are masters of their own lives — are in fact nowhere to be found.

Like the old religious fetishism, with its convulsionary raptures and miraculous cures, the fetishism of commodities generates its own moments of fervent exaltation. All this is useful for only one purpose: producing habitual submission.

The plain facts of history, however, are that the “Asiatic mode of production” (as Marx himself acknowledged elsewhere) maintained its immobility despite all its class conflicts; that no serf uprising ever overthrew the feudal lords; and that none of the slave revolts in the ancient world ended the rule of the freemen. The linear schema loses sight of the fact that the bourgeoisie is the only revolutionary class that has ever won;

Imprisoned in a flattened universe bounded by the screen of the spectacle that has enthralled him, the spectator knows no one but the fictitious speakers who subject him to a one-way monologue about their commodities and the politics of their commodities. The spectacle as a whole serves as his looking glass. What he sees there are dramatizations of illusory escapes from a universal autism.

Barrett is an idiot

I spent 1.5 hours of my life last week listening to people talk about the "Seven Levels of Consciousness".

Richard Barrett, a man lacking wits but making up for it with entrepreneurial enthusiasm, has improved the old pyramid model of Maslow (the hierarchy of needs) by creating an hourglass model.

Old:

Improved:

One will instantly see the superiority of this new model. For one thing, it's symmetrical. And it has circles. If there is anything more scientific than pyramids, it's circles. And the number seven.

I have to say how impressed I am. Barrett has taken a relatively meaningless concept, the hierarchy of needs - wholly unproven and unprovable - and improved it by extension and inversion via the science of the Vedas. If it's science you're after, an ancient holy text is the best place to look. He's melded religious myth and pseudo-science and made a business out of it, selling it to morons world-wide.

Vedic science specifies seven levels of consciousness. These are waking, sleeping, dreaming, soul consciousness, cosmic consciousness, God consciousness and unity consciousness. It appeared to me that the descriptions of the last four of these levels of consciousness described the underlying features of self-actualisation. (From Maslow to Barrett)

One could wonder how this sort of garbage could become such a integral part of corporate consciousness, especially at the management level. But it's not an anomaly. Business is full of unproven ideas and myth. Modern myth may appear to be especially good targets of ridicule but old myths are no less absurd, merely more accepted because they've been around longer.

Julia Kristeva

On Anthony's visit to Melbourne, he mentioned something about Julia Kristeva that I simply had to know more about. It was the idea that Kristeva suggests we move away from the scientific binary logic of false and true (0 and 1) to a poetic logic of 0 and 2. I was astounded to hear that. It seemed completely absurd (it's been a while since I read any post-modernism). I got the document and found the quote. Here it is:

The polyvalent logic presupposing an infinite number of values in the interval false-true 0 ≤ x ≤ 1 is a part of bivalent (0-1), Aristotelian logic. Poetic logic is inscribed on a different surface. It remains indebted to Aristotelian logic not in being a part thereof, but insofar as it contains and transgresses that logic. Since poetic unity is constructed in relation to an other as double, the problem of truth (of the 1) does not concern it. The poetic paragram bypasses the one, and its logical space is 0-2, the 1 existing only virtually. (pg 44, Towards a Semiology of Paragrams)

Admittedly, I didn't read all of the document. What I read, I didn't understand. I'm taking Kristeva out of context because I don't understand the context. Nevertheless, I got questions:

1. How is polyvalent logic "part of" bivalent logic? The inverse (bivalent part of polyvalent) seems more reasonable to me. Yet, polyvalent and bivalent seem to have quite different logical rules.
2. Unlike polyvalent logic, Kristiva claims that poetic logic (what's that?!) has a logical space of 0-2. It's therefore still bivalent, but because it doesn't contain 1 (truth) it need not concern itself with truth. Hm... but isn't the "1" merely a symbol to represent "truth"? Couldn't "2" also represent "truth"? Or "0" for that matter? In fact, you could be really crazy and suggest "√-1" to be the symbol for "truth". It wouldn't matter, would it?

I will leave you with another quote from earlier in the document. I find it entirely incomprehensible, though it does appear to contradict the above by saying that paragrammatic numerology (which I think is the same as poetic numerology) is "two" and "all" rather than "0" and "2". I like the "The zero is two which are one" statement, though that is very similar to another phrasing I know (i.e., the doctrine of the trinity - god, son and holy ghost are three that are one.) I'm not sure that the bible is a good source for learning logic, however...

The zero as non-sense does not exist in the paragrammatic network. The zero is two which are one: in other words, the one as indivisible and the zero as nothingness are excluded from the paragram, whose minimal unity is both an (empty) all and an (oppositional) two. We shall examine more closely this paragrammatic numerology, where there is no 'one' or 'zero' but only 'two' and 'all'. Unity is empty, does not count, the one is zero but it signifies: it controls the space of the paragram, it is there to fix the centre, but the paragram does not give it a value, a stable meaning. This 'unity' is not the synthesis of A and B; but it has the value of one because it is all, and at the same time it cannot be distinguished from two, because within this unity come together all the contrasting semes, both opposed to each other and united. At once unity and couple, the oppositional dyad, to apply a spatial expression, is realized in the three dimensions of volume. (pg 37, Towards a Semiology of Paragrams)

Opposed Tests (in RPGs)

Most role-playing games use opposed tests. E.g., RuneQuest:

An opposed skill roll occurs when one skill is actively resisted by another. For example, a thief attempts to sneak past a wily palace guard who, being vigilant is on the look-out for potential crooks. (pg 34)

(This is a confused concept in RuneQuest because combat rolls aren't exactly considered opposed tests, which is a little discombobulating because surely combat tests are "actively resisted by another.")

Or Diaspora:

You want to beat someone else at something. The defender rolls defensively and you need to meet or beat that roll offensively. (pg 9)

Opposed tests don't change your odds of success. However, some tasks that you could never achieve with a single roll may be achievable with an opposed test as it opens out a larger range of results. The inverse is also true, you can fail when you normally wouldn't.

I don't know where the idea for opposed tests came from, but they're a wacky idea. One of the main issues is figuring out, philosophically, what is and is not an opposed test. In RuneQuest, sneaking past an alert guard is an opposed roll, but trying to cut her throat whilst she attempts the same to you, is not, technically. This isn't solely an issue with RuneQuest, most games seem to struggle with the concept.

Opposed tests are usually reserved for resolving a conflict of one sentient being against another. Why is that? If one wants to cross a dangerous suspension bridge, one isn't allowed to roll an opposed test against the designers/builders of the bridge. However, if one of those builders were shaking the bridge from the other end, you might be allowed an opposed test. That seems quite odd.

I think that the only logical use of an opposed tests is to use them when you want, for whatever you want and just because they are fun. Playing with opposed tests makes it feel like there is a real conflict going on. And you can stunningly succeed or fail, so that has to be fun, surely. Of course, if a game never used opposed tests, it wouldn't be any less of a game and it would definitely speed the game up a little too.

Conflict vs task resolution

I'm having fun exploring role-playing games and their concepts and mechanisms. I'd forgotten how much fun they were. Fun to play, fun to read about, fun to criticise, and fun to create (to play an RPG is to create one).

The topic for today? Conflict vs task resolution. I’d seen mention of these terms, especially from Burning Wheel fans. I didn’t really understand what they were talking about. To paraphrase: “All he’s interested in is task resolution, that’s why he doesn’t like Burning Wheel.”

So I looked up what these terms mean. From RPG Theory Glossary:

Conflict resolution

A Forge term for a resolution mechanic which depends on the abstract higher-level conflict, rather than on the component tasks within that conflict. For example, one might roll to get past a guard -- regardless of whether you bluff, sneak, or fight your way past him. When using this technique, inanimate objects may be considered to have "interests" at odds with the character, if necessary.

Task resolution

A technique in which the resolution mechanisms of play focus on within-game cause, in linear in-game time, in terms of whether the acting character is competent to perform a task.


Reading that, one must conclude that task and conflict resolution are the same thing. No-one is going to attempt to model a world along reductionist lines, you'd be talking about the movement of atoms rather than the blow-by-blow conflicts of RuneQuest or the more distant conflicts of other RPGs. Therefore, all so-called task resolution mechanics must also be conflict resolution and vice-versa. It's merely the level of detail that your interested in that counts. That interest in detail changes from moment to moment within any RPG. Seconds, days, years, millennia can go by in game time with only moments of our time. Do RPGs that are labelled "task resolution" games involve cooking, defecating and brushing your hair? None I've played, but they could, if you were interested in that level of detail.

A better example:

All combat is a matter of taking thinking about time, space, kinetic energy, potential energy, material sciences, anatomy, willpower and distilling it into a natural reaction which requires no real thought, is mostly muscle memory and instinct. These principles cross all imaginary separations and divisions, thought becomes action without actual thought.

In game terms there are a ton of skills which people don't normally think of as contributing toward combat, which are really useful as a basis for real combat skills. For instance Lore (Animal, Mineral, Plant), these are essentially Anatomy, Chemistry, Botany. What do they tell us? Where to hit, what I can use to hit with, what might be useful as a poison, what is safe to move over etc. Perception is the basis of situational awareness, not walking into ambushes, knowing where attacks are coming from is vital to protecting yourself. Athletic and Acrobatics aid your movement over terrain, Evade is necessary to tactical movement keeping the enemy in each others way, Persistence and Resilience provide the mental and physical endurance to persevere and win in battle. To be a good warrior already requires a multitude of skills. Faelan Niall

If interested, the same sort of discussion is had on the gaming philosopher blog.

Decision making

The last role-playing session ended on a crucial dilemma; does the group continue tracking horse thieves into the night, or do they stop and rest at nightfall, continuing the hunt on the morrow? One player was in favour of pursuing into the night (or at least until the torches ran out - 4 to 5 hours). Three were opposed to the notion. As the game master, I must admit I thought it would be more fun if they continued the chase, so perhaps, one and a half in favour.

We resolved the decision in probably the worst way, flipism. Afterwards, I thought through the ways groups can make decisions. They are

• Consensus
• Majority rule
• Flipism
• Minority rule
• Splitting the group
• Rational argument
  

Clearly consensus is a terrible idea. It's little more than formalised coercion. Majority rule is better than consensus, at least the dissenters can announce their reservations even though they accept the decision. Still, it's a bad idea (what if the minority are correct in their beliefs?)

Flipism is the worst of the lot, but maybe in things like RPGs it can be fun. I thought it was fun to see the group slowly be influenced into continuing the pursuit, only to see the process break-down on the last person.

Splitting the group is also completely valid, if somewhat dramatic. Nevertheless, there should be nothing stopping one or more people leaving the others behind.

Rational argument, that is, arriving at a decision based on looking at all known options and collectively deciding which is the best, is the finest way to solve a problem. It's too bad that few use it. (I'm not sure how well it fits the fantasy world of Glorantha, however.)

The crazy thing was that - during the session - I'd forgotten all about minority rule. Often in RPGs a leader forms simply because the others aren't very communicative or are disinterested. This wasn't the case with this group/session. I had a bunch of free thinking anarchists roaming Glorantha. This will not do. A leader shall emerge. At the very least, it'll create more interesting dynamics; those that don't lead, rebel. Also, having one more option to fall back on is always a good thing.

Philosophy of Glorantha

There is a dearth of information on the Net about RuneQuest and Glorantha. I don't really know why. It's truly intriguing stuff. The best I've found is Mythopoeia. The most interesting is a discussion on Tolkien, Howard, Moorcock and Glorantha.

Consider Tolkien. Middle Earth is a world which has an absolute truth. Eru created the world, and those who live in accordance with the “mind of Eru” are good while those who go against it are bad. Goodness, truth, and righteousness are the rewards of those who side with Eru and the Valar. Those who defy Eru, from Melkor and Sauron right down to the Easterlings, fall into error and ultimately suffer. This is the kind of absolutism offered by Christianity, which is not surprising considering Tolkien's own devout Catholicism.

On the other hand, we have Howard. Howard's Hyborian Age has no absolutes, no good, no truth, and no real evil (its demons may be alien and inhuman, but don't qualify as evil the way Melkor does, because there is no absolute good to be the opposite of). The Hyborian Age is an almost Nietzschean paradigm where strength is the only real virtue.

Michael Moorcock offers a very different paradigm. His work seems to say that any absolute—in his case absolute Law or absolute Chaos—is intrinsically unbearable and that the only wholesome route lies through balance.

With this in mind, let's consider Glorantha. If Middle Earth embraces a single truth, Hyboria mocks truth, and Moorcock's Million Spheres seek a balance between truths, Glorantha says to us that truth is in the eye of the beholder. Truth exists, and can be obtained, but it is a cultural and—to an extent—personal truth not valid for everyone. Truth is a local, rather than a universal, phenomenon. For example, most cultures in Glorantha agree that there was a time when the sun disappeared from the sky. The Orlanthi say that the sun was a tyrannical emperor, and that mighty Orlanth slew him to liberate the cosmos. However, the sun-worshiping Dara Happans say Orlanth merely slew the solar emperor's son(the divine sun himself was far too great to slay), and that the solar emperor died of grief. Now, in any other world, we might just say that these too cultures have different beliefs and leave it at that. But in Glorantha, an objective third party—like, say, a God Learner—could go to Dara Happa, leave the mortal plane, and personally witness Orlanth slaying the solar emperor's son. The same God Learner could then go to an Orlanthi holy site, enter the Hero Plane, and personally witness Orlanth slaying the tyrannical solar emperor himself. In fact, he could get powers from participating in two contradictory myths!

Because of this, Glorantha embraces a pluralism unprecedented in other fantasy settings. Tolkien is culturally pluralistic, but his world operates around a single truth. Hyboria is also culturally pluralistic, but truth is ambiguous at best. And Moorcock may have a Million Spheres, but all are governed by the same struggle. Even Dungeons & Dragons, with its “everything but the kitchen sink” approach to setting design, still has the cosmic absolutes of law, chaos, good, and evil (lawful good is lawful good, from world to world and setting to setting). Glorantha is wholly relativistic.

This pluralism is not the result of a modern, politically correct, “accept all faiths” viewpoint, but rather indicative of the pagan attitude, which is wholly consistent with the mythic, bronze-age world Glorantha portrays. When we examine the religious attitudes of ancient Mediterranean and Near Eastern cultures, for example, we find that they are perfectly aware of foreign gods, and accept their existence, but view their own deities as being more central to their lives. A clear example can be found in the Ten Commandments of Hebrew scriptures, where Yahweh tells his people “I am your God, and you shall have no other gods before me.” Note he does not say, “I am the only true God, and all other gods are false.” This attitude did not appear until late antiquity, a period which falls long after Glorantha's scope (except, perhaps, where the Malkioni God-Learners are concerned).

Even though I agree that Gloranth attempts to portray a pre-modern world, I wonder how much of a benefit post-modernism was. Post-modernism was in its ascendancy in 1966 - when Glorantha was started. Tolkien didn't have access to those ideas when he was developing Middle Earth. The best he would have had access to were the ideas of Marx and Marxism. Although the former of those, Marx, is superior to post-modernism, Tolkien obviously never got that far, as it would have been awash with Marxism (something even worse than post-modernism.)

It's interesting that besides Glorantha, I know of no other game-world that embraces plurality. Most are modernist (Forgotten Realms, Dragonlance, Greyhawk, Traveller universe, WoW, Midnight, etc.) You really have to go to literature before you start to get anything interesting (Le Guin, Leiber and the ones mentioned above).