2014/08/20
Weekend Other World
This October I'll be taking part in Weekend Other World, an event of "deep voyages ... at the intersection of film, fiction, music, anthropology, cosmology and occultism". I'll be talking about Performance, magick and conspiracy.
The event is a collaboration between English Heretic and Exploring the Extraordinary and promises to bring together some really interesting thinking. Confirmed speakers include Andy Sharp, Hannah Gilbert, Evie Salmon and Will Fowler.
There's a music event on the Friday at the Apiary Studios in Hackney and a day of talks on the Saturday at the Cinema Museum in South London. Tickets and event details here.
Last year's English Heretic event at Goldsmith's College was great. Really happy to be involved in this one....
2014/08/09
Manson Supplement
Supplementary notes
originally included in an earlier draft of the Manson essay prepared for Transgressive Culture.
In 1982 David Toop wrote an article for Collusion,
‘Surfin’ Death Valley USA ’,
an investigation of the connections between Manson and The Beach Boys. Writing
in 2003, Toop noted that in the years following the text’s initial publication,
new information appeared on the subject ranging from “a profile of Bobby
Beausoleil written by Truman Capote” to “a skip load of post-apocalyptic Amok –
type sleaze on Manson and the Family”. He comments that one reader wrote in
response to the article expressing “an unhealthy interest in snuff movies”.
Compounding his tone of lamentation, Toop speculates that said reader probably
“went on to write for Creation Press”.[i]
Here, Toop is referencing two idiosyncratic publishing
houses, Amok Press, and Creation Books. Both have been instrumental in
developing Manson’s ‘cult’ status. Amok published Nikolas Schreck's The Manson File,
amongst others, whilst Creation’s Manson list contains Death Trip (1994
/ 2009), a book that shares material with Schreck’s volume. Whilst these
references acknowledge the extent of the Manson catalogue, the construction of
a spectrum moving from Truman Capote to undifferentiated “sleaze” draws Amok,
Creation and by extension the critical discourse that valorises Manson into a
negative value judgement. The implication is that considerations of the Manson
milieu that move beyond condemnation or attempt to extrapolate significance
from “banal” coincidences of “geography, money and show-business” constitute a
discourse that is itself problematically transgressive: “unhealthy” and sleazy;
immoral, dishonest, disreputable.[ii]
Arguably, this point has some validity in the case of Tuesday’s
Child naming Manson ‘Man of the Year’ in 1969. However, it is too
simplistic to suggest that subsequent considerations of him as either “monster”
or “prophet” inversely correlate with good / bad modes of analysis.[iii]
This narrow binary distinction is not representative of the strategies that
have characterized 40 years of cultural production and in particular the
framing of Manson at the turn of the millennium. That is to say, when
considering the metaphor of Charles Manson, it is not sufficient to
unambiguously oppose such a phenomena. Instead, it is important to adopt a mode
of analysis that assesses the diachronic metamorphosis of Manson’s emblematic
status. Whilst he has consistently retained a symbolic currency, this is not a
position – whether presented negatively or positively – that has existed in the
absence of historical development. As such then, an evaluation of the particularized
cultural artifact that is the Amok / Creation Manson requires consideration of
the strategies underpinning its construction.
*
Amok Press was formed in New York in 1986 by Adam Parfey and Ken
Swezey. One of its earliest publications was the manifesto-like Apocalypse
Culture (1987) an attempt to analyse the forces “lurking behind” the “mass
delirium” of the late 20th century, the belief expressed on the part
of “occult prophets, nihilist kids, born agains and liberal humanists” that a
“global catastrophe” was imminent.[iv]
In practice, this investigation took the form of a series of mondo-like essays
considering fringe thought and the extremes of human behaviour. In contrast to
this subcultural anthropology, Creation Books, formed in London in 1989 by James Williamson and Alan
McGee began mainly as a publisher of “imaginative extremes”.[v]
Their initial manifesto, “the crucifixion of modern literature and the
resurrection of the imagination” was realised through the publication of
fiction and poetry by James Havoc, Alan Moore, Jeremy Reed and Stuart Home .[vi]
Creation offered work that was “hallucinated and anatomical”: violent and
sexually explicit in content, nominally ‘avant-garde’ in form.[vii]
During the mid to late 1990s the company diversified into non-fiction, mainly
covering cult film and countercultural art, but as Williamson has described,
their initial stock in trade was “Poetry, pornography, pulp and plagiarism”.[viii]
Despite these generic differences both publishers used the
‘underground’ status of their authors as markers of their own marginal position
as cultural producers. Parfey identified the contributors to Apocalypse
Culture as “folk artists and folk researchers”, claiming that they acted as
“more worthy cultural barometers than the often more clever but intellectually
and emotionally corrupt professionals”.[ix]
Similarly, Williamson presented Creation Books as an antidote to the “sexless
confines of corporate publishing formats” and its material as a challenge to
notions of “literary value”.[x] In
this respect, the projects of Amok and Creation can be described as
‘transgressive’ as the term is understood in its primarily “disobedient”,
contra-normative sense.[xi]
That is to say, the intention informing their publishing programmes is one of
“symbolic inversion”, the attempt to, by example, “present an alternative to
commonly held cultural codes, values and norms”.[xii]
In the case of Williamson and Parfey, such “values and norms” are those
proposed by ‘mainstream’ publishing, (“Penguin and their obsolescent ilk”) and
the disciplinary boundaries of professional academia.[xiii]
It is through this lens of oppositional alterity that that the emphasis placed
on Charles Manson, particularly by Amok Press can initially be understood.
In the opening essay in Apocalypse
Culture, “Latter Day Lycanthropy” Parfey provides a short cultural history
of the struggle to either repress or release “the animal in man” and the
apparent late-20th century shift towards the latter in art and
culture.[xiv]
Given his emphasis on contemporary shamanic performances and Transactional
Psychology, Parfey’s essay could be seen to occupy the collection’s purported
anthropological stance, expressing an interest in what Stuart Swezey, writing
in the Amok Journal: Sensesurround
Edition calls “the pursuit of a neurobiological basis for mystical and
ecstatic experience”.[xv]
However, the article also includes an illustration of a lycanthropic Charles
Manson drawn by Nick Bougas for The
Manson File and quotes the ‘manifesto’ of Radio Werewolf, a performance
group led by Schreck that ‘celebrates the lunar force of animist apocalypse as
a reaction against directionless humanity”. The implication is that within the
cultural sphere represented by Amok, Manson acts as an exemplary figure of
amoral misanthropy. He exhibits the necessary “psychic preparation for the
millennial calamities which are thought to lie ahead”.[xvi]
Radio Werewolf performed alongside Boyd Rice’s Non at the
‘8/8/88 Rally’, a concert and ‘Satanic’ gathering that included Parfey, Anton LaVey and a screening of Frank Howard’s Manson film The Other Side of Madness (1970). Prior to this Schreck had made
the “revisionist documentary” Charles Manson Superstar (1987) that operated as something of a companion piece to The Manson File.[xvii]
In addition to making what Jim Morton describes as “hyperbolic statements about
Manson’s relative innocence”, its opening narration attributes a conspiratorial
importance to the dates of Tate-La Bianca murders.[xviii]
Schreck describes how August 8-9th corresponds with other
‘significant’ events in history such as the detonation of the nuclear bomb over
This attitude of overt confrontation can be read in terms of
Aesthetic Terrorism, which as George Petros describes in Art That Kills
(2008) represented a key impulse in American underground art between 1984 and
2001. Jesper Aagaard Petersen has described this ‘movement’ as “a combination
of rationalist Satanism and more expressive forms of post-punk”.[xx]
In an analysis of Petros’ “portrait” Peterson observes that he attempts to
elide religion and subculture through the discursive integration of Satanism’s
“reactive transgressions” and “an avant-garde aesthetics” [xxi]
We are told that in practice this takes the form of the “subversive use of past
clichés, knowledge and home truths being flung out of joint” as an expression
of “frustration with politics, big business and mass entertainment”.[xxii]
An associated discourse, John Aes-Nihil’s Aesthetic Nihilism codifies this
subversion further as a reaction against society and mass culture through “the
creation of art so extreme it verges on destruction”.[xxiii]
This framework of critical provocation offers a potential
negotiation of the difficult territory that this work inhabits. The recognition
of a symbolically violent artistic ideology could be seen to allow for a
differentiation between “transgressive play and problematic politics”.[xxiv]
Certainly, if its ‘satirical’ component is accepted, such negativity could be
viewed in terms of a reflexive critique. However, the residue of ‘problematic
politics’ remains insofar as the emphasis placed upon individuality,
self-realization and self-empowerment (man into wolf) within Amok publications
and their associated events could be seen in terms of an aggressive Social
Darwinism. Ideas ranging from the cultivation of a millennial resilience to the
creation of ambiguously “intense” work appear to connect social and artistic
development to the exercise of personal ‘strength’. When mediated through the
emblem of Manson, it is hard to perceive this antinomianism in terms other than
an idealization of physical violence.
In the case of Creation, although the company published Art that Kills, the situation regarding
their representation of Manson is less politically vexed. However, it
nonetheless remains problematic mainly due to the extent to which he is
repeatedly fetishized across their publications. In ‘celebration’ of the 40th
anniversary of the Tate-La Bianca murders, Creation re-published Adam
Gorightly’s The Shadow Over Santa Susanna (2009), a text that repeated
Schreck’s conspiratorial claims whilst connecting them to further nodal points.
Gorightly is a writer concerned with ufology, Forteana and conspiracy research,
subjects that are not the specific preserve of Creation Books. However, the
text can be seen as an appropriate publication choice as its mapping of the
Manson web is indicative of the manner in which. Creation texts often seem to
revel in the aura of Manson’s infamy and the range of culturally resonant
connections extending out from the murders. ‘Mansonoid’ allusions are present
in Creation’s early fictional publications especially by flagship author James
Havoc. His short story ‘Zipper Fox: A Synopsis’ (1996) has characters “cruising
the night sands in one of Charlie Manson’s old dune buggies”. In his foreword
to Havoc’s Butchershop in the Sky
(1999), Williamson attempts to cultivate a correspondingly ‘Luciferean’ persona
for the writer.[xxv]
Describing Havoc’s life in Brighton ,
Williamson parodies Ed Sanders’ prose style used in The Family to recall that “one young woman was encouraged to take
LSD and lured back to find his flat literally draped in fresh meat. Oo-ee-oo.”[xxvi]
In addition, Creation’s initial ‘sampler’ Cease
to Exist (1991) took as its title the Scientology mantra that Manson used
as the basis for one of his songs, later recorded by The Beach Boys as ‘Never
Learn Not to Love You’.
In subsequent publications this fascination is maintained
not so much by the contents of the often very different books, but in the
language of the paratextual material used to market them. With a nod to Sonic
Youth, Charlie’s Family (1998), an edition of Jim VanBebber’s
screenplay for The Manson Family
(2003) is described as offering an “uncompromising cinematic portrayal of the
exterminating angels of
In each case, whether the promotion of Manson is figured as
a means of cultural subversion or cultural commodification, it is a promotion
that seemingly negates the human cost at the centre of the case. The resonance of
the murderer is celebrated in the absence of a consideration of those murdered.
As result, to use a phrase frequently included in Creation’s marketing, this
artistic ideology appears somewhat ‘terminal’. It ostensibly reiterates a
“cultish fixation” that does not cultivate value.[xxx] Whilst
the individual cultural products participate, as highlighted in a level of
critique, their surrounding publishing discourse works within a rhetoric of
destruction that does not leave recognizable space for the subsequent
development of the forms that such work seeks to deconstruct.
Notes
[i] David
Toop, ‘Surfin’ Death Valley USA :
The Beach Boys and ‘Heavy’ Friends’, Collusion February-April 1982.
Reprinted in The Sound and the Fury
ed. by Barney Hoskyns and David Pringle (London :
Bloomsbury , 2003), pp. 399-407.
[ii] Toop,
p. 402. Synonyms from Collins English Dictionary (Glasgow : Collins, 2009), p. 213.
[iii]
“Monster” and “prophet” from Swezey in John Gilmore, The Garbage People (USA: Amok, 1995) p. ii.
[iv] Adam
Parfey (ed.) Apocalypse Culture (New York: Amok, 1987), p.13.
[v] Alan
McGee was head of Creation Records and the publishing company, Creation Press,
was set up as an adjunct to this main enterprise. In 1994 Creation Books became
an independent entity under Williamson’s editorship. There was an interesting
cross over between the two projects during the early stages. This included the
company’s first publication, Raism
(1989) by James Havoc and the accompanying album, The Church of Raism
featuring Havoc backed by members of Primal Scream. See James Williamson,
“Introduction: Apocalypse 451” in Dust: A Creation Books Reader (London:
Creation Books, 1995), pp.i-ii.
[vi] Ibid,
p.i.
[vii] Ibid,
back cover copy.
[viii] Ibid.
[ix] Parfey,
p.13.
[x]
Williamson, p. i.
[xi] Part of the OED definition of 'transgression'.
[xii]
Barbara Babcock quoted in Peter Stallybrass and Allon White, The Politics
and Poetics of Transgression (London, Methuen, 1986).
[xiii]
Williamson, p.i.
[xiv]
Parfey, ‘Latter Day Lycanthropy’, in Apocalypse Culture, pp. 17-27, p.
17.
[xv] Stuart
Swezey, Amok Journal: Sensurround Edition (USA: Amok, 1995).
[xvi]
Parfey, p. 26.
[xvii] Jim
Morton, ‘Manson Movie Madness’ in Jim Van Bebber, Charlie’s Family (London,
Creation, 1998), pp. 164-185, p. 167.
[xviii]
Ibid.
[xix] See
[xx] Jesper
Aagaard Petersen, '‘Smite him hip and thigh’: Satanism, Violence and
Transgression'
[xxi] Quoted
in Petersen.
[xxii] Ibid.
[xxiii] The
Archives of Aesthetic Nihilism place a significant emphasis upon Manson.
[xxiv]
Petersen.
[xxv] James
Williamson, ‘Foreword’, in James Havoc, Butchershop in the Sky (London:
Creation 1999), pp. 7-11, p. 11. ‘Zipper Fox’, pp. 201-203, p.203.
[xxvi]
Sanders references are also present in Havoc’s obscure 8 mm film Crimes Against Pussycat (1989).
[xxvii]
Van Bebber, Charlie’s Family. Back cover.
[xxviii] 'Johnny Satan', Death Trip. Back cover.
[xxix]
Gorightly, Shadow Over Santa Susanna. Back cover.
[xxx] Simon Dwyer,
‘The Plague Yard’ in Rapid Eye vol 2 (London: Creation, 1995), pp.
137-238, p. 197.
2014/07/03
Occult, Magick, Evil and the Powers of Horror
The new issue of One+One is out and you can read it here. It's a special edition covering 'Occult, Magick, Evil and the Powers of Horror'. I have two articles included, one on projection and Night of the Demon, the other on Craig Baldwin and his film Mock-Up on Mu. Mark Goodall also has an article on Mario Mercier which is well worth checking out.....
Many thanks to James Marcus Tucker, Bradley Tuck and the rest of the One+One team for pulling this issue together.....
Many thanks to James Marcus Tucker, Bradley Tuck and the rest of the One+One team for pulling this issue together.....
2014/06/20
Monolith
Last
year I wrote a series of articles for the online and print magazine Monolith.
I posted links to the articles on this blog
as and when they appeared. The brainchild of writer Lore Oxford, Monolith
currently operates an excellent tumblr
site that features a visual archive of heavy sci-fi, cosmic psychedelia and
fringe science. The great strength of the magazine was its ability to weave
together the late 70s mood of Heavy Metal and Omni with a contemporary
focus on current science, parapsychology and high strangeness. Monolith successfully channelled the
atmosphere of late-counterculture, futurology and artistic experimentation that
characterised Dune, Alien, Dark Star and is evident
in current hauntological works like Beyond the Black Rainbow. This cosmic,
air-brush aspect of neo-psychedelia is superficially well known but is still in
need of a comprehensive mapping. Along with magazines like Arthur, Monolith made great strides towards the
charting of this territory. I hope it reconfigures again in the future.
The
following posts feature most of the articles I contributed to the magazine.
I’ve already posted a text on telepathy that originally appeared on the Monolith site. The others cover Steve
Quenell, in-vitro meat, and Area 51.
Monolith 1: An Interview with Steve Quenell
“I'm not
exactly sure when it happened but at some point in the 60's the hippy culture
embraced the occult.”
Steve Quenell is a collage artist
based in
Riley: Let’s talk about the word
‘psychedelic’. I read an interview with you in the Seattle
Weekly that used the term in relation to your art. Elsewhere you’ve
described your work as “psychedelic
collages”. What do you take that word to mean? Are you linking your work to the
experience of altered states of consciousness and ‘mind-manifesting'
experiences, or are you using it in a more panoramic sense to refer to a
particularly resonant aspect of 1960s culture?
Quenell: In the 60's 'psychedelic’ was
used to describe music, art, films, etc., during a time when certain artists
began to link their experiences of altered states of consciousness directly to
what they were creating. I use the term more in homage to the spirit of that
time. I draw a lot of inspiration from the 60's and early 70's. But I also feel
the word ‘psychedelic’ (as it relates to art) is a term that can be used when
the fantastic meets the weird. Bosch, the Symbolists, the Surrealists, even
sci-fi paperback artists (like Richard Powers) were psychedelic. I know that
some people feel the word should only be used to describe black-light head-shop
posters but I think it's much bigger than that.
Riley: With that in mind, are there any
specific artists who you see as having a significant influence upon you work?
Quenell: I've been making this type of
art for almost 10 years now and my influences have fluctuated but I always have
my go-to guys...many of the 60's San
Francisco poster makers (especially David Singer), Nik
Douglas, James Koehinline, Harry Smith, and Polish film posters from the 60's.
With the advent of the internet there's a constant stream of new and inspiring
artists. I started a Tumblr account
just to keep track of them all.
What
really influences me is the feel of the late 60's and early 70's, from the
vibrant print ads and the art-house films (especially the work of Alejandro
Jodorowsky) to the widespread appropriation of occult imagery and ideas. These
are the touchstones of my aesthetic.
Riley: I've mainly encountered your
work via album
covers. Do you work in collaboration with musicians to develop an image or do
they request existing images?
Quenell: I've actually done both. For Heavy
Deavy Skull Lover I already had several pieces done when a friend of
mine heard through the internet that The Warlocks were looking for art for
their new album. She thought my work would be perfect, gave me their email
address, and they bought the pieces. Alternately, when I work with Ben Chasny
(of Six
Organs of Admittance) he has an idea ahead of time and we work together to
come as close as I can to the vision he has for his cover.
Riley: I love that Warlocks cover. It
does indeed seem perfect for the band and the tone of that album: intensity,
animal ferocity but also a kind of beauty... Could you talk about this image in
more detail? What’s being suggested through the juxtaposition of the animal
mouths and the naked torso? When I look at it, the image seems to be suggestive
of transformation, as if we are seeing a shamanic transmutation from human to
animal at mid-point. Also, because there's a photographic quality to the image
it seems as if it’s a still from a bizarre, long lost late-60s movie. Were
these ideas that you were going for at all?
Quenell: Oh, thanks so much. The cover of
Heavy Deavy is actually a cropped
version of my collage Weird
Scene at Dusk. Having just finished a very painstaking, meticulous piece, I
decided I just wanted to construct a collage as spontaneously and off the cuff
as I could. With this in mind I went through a stack of old magazine cuttings
and found a burlesque body, wild dogs fighting, and a goat head. Everything fell
into place and the piece made itself. The original art actually shows the full
body with the goat head and the dogs fighting at her feet. Looking at the
finished piece, it had a similar feel to the Hammer film posters of the 60's
(especially the Dennis
Wheatley series).
It, like
most of my collages, has that balance of weird and beautiful that I strive for.
I thought the vibrant colors of the stripper and her necklace were really
beautiful. These juxtaposed with the ferocity of the dogs at her feet and the
cropped goat head created a perfect composition. I always try to get that
symbiotic relationship in every piece I construct.
Aesthetic
is the key--an aesthetic that at its very essence is beautiful and wicked. I
find aesthetic is more important to me than any overt message I might try to
convey. I want my art to be open to interpretation. I really like your take on
this one.
Quenell: I had these patterns that I drew
with Prisma pen and pencil lying around my apartment and I decided to cut them
up. I noticed a shape forming from what I had cut out so I placed it on top of
a bit of watercolor that I had done. Next, I added the hands then some flower
patterns and then the skull. To this day I still love that piece. Its
completion surprised me and forever altered the way I did my art because it was
the first time I had ever used illustration, water colour, and collage all in
one piece. Up to that point I was doing some illustration and a few simple
collages but this was something entirely new for me.
Many of
the artists I admire have this amazing balance of beauty and wickedness. In
amongst them there are a select few that take it to yet another level that
makes me question what I'm seeing. That combination of factors is a huge
inspiration. For me, it doesn't get any better than beautiful, bizarre art that
makes me do a double take. Francis Bacon, Moebius, AJ Fosik, Max Ernst, Bob
Pepper, and even poster duo Seripop are a few of the artists that exemplify
this.
Riley: It’s interesting hearing you
talk about one of your own pieces surprising you once completed. It seems as
though you were in some kind of trance. Is that how you see your creative process?
Is it a kind of meditative exercise?
Quenell: I wasn't in a trance but I was
definitely in a zone. When constructing a collage I sometimes have a basic idea
in mind as I search through old magazines but sometimes I'll have no
preconceived notions at all and I'll just rifle through my archives, putting
pieces aside that look good. Then I'll start to take other aspects under
consideration. Is it for a band or a show poster? What are the aesthetics of
the band? With these things in mind, the
pieces just emerge. I have done rough sketches beforehand but almost every time
the end product looks nothing like the initial sketch.
Riley: Why do you find that collage is
a particularly effective medium for you? Is there an 'archival' or more
‘de-contextualising’ interest at work in your use of copies of National Geographic?
Quenell: I think I was drawn to collage
because I found that I couldn't pay homage to the art I loved any other way. I
don't like to paint and I feel confined by illustration. Nothing looks more of
that time than the actual photographs from the 60's and 70's.
I don't
consciously de-contextualize any image. The beauty of collage is that you can
take just part of an image and get something completely different than if you
used it in its entirety. That said I find that I am drawn to holy or ceremonial
imagery because these images are often both beautiful and sacred.
Riley: Your work could be described as
quite ‘dark’. I don’t mean to suggest that it’s unpleasant but the images seem
to veer towards skulls, sinister creatures and foreboding landscapes. To return
to the idea of the ‘psychedelic’, do you see this material as different from
‘traditional’ psychedelic images, the kind that that highlight peace,
transcendence, pastoral imagery etc.?
Quenell: The darkness is the weird or
eerie visuals that I'm drawn to. As far as what is traditionally psychedelic, I
guess I'd refer back to how I define that term. To me those images are the
building blocks of my psych compositions which I suppose aren't traditionally
psychedelic but then again, what is?
Riley: In the Seattle interview you mentioned something that I found particularly
interesting, the fact that when you were growing up, ‘a lot of the hippies were
getting into the occult’. Could you expand on this a bit? I see a lot of occult
imagery in your work, obviously with your Tarot
images, but there's also your piece The
Temptation of Kenneth Anger. Do you think there was a general shift in the
late sixties towards an interest in the occult? If so, why do you think this
occurred?
Quenell: I'm not exactly sure when it
happened but at some point in the 60's the hippy culture embraced the occult.
Maybe it was a hearkening back to pagan ideals; maybe it was an acceptance of
all things weird, who knows. So by the time I was a kid growing up in the 70's
the residual effects of this paranormal acceptance was everywhere--and (as
someone who was drawn to the weird even at an early age) I loved it. Book
stores had an occult section, department stores started carrying Ouija boards,
etc. My own aunt bought an encyclopedia of the supernatural. So I still have
an interest in the imagery of the occult (probably because many of the images
make me question what I'm seeing) but I don't subscribe to it--I find it all
kind of silly. That said, nothing tops a collage off better than a mandrake
root or a hand of glory.
Riley: Kenneth Anger said that for him
the process of making films was like casting a spell. Would you say that making
a collage has similar implications for you? Jodorowsky also springs to mind
here. Is he an artist you admire?
Quenell: Jodorowsky is one of my biggest
influences but only in terms of composition and imagery. He has a very
methodical, masterly eye for the symbolism he incorporates into his films (so
did Anger). Personally, the final aesthetic of a piece is more important to me
than any contextual symbolism.
Monolith 2: In-Vitro Meat
In 2008
a trend emerged for super-expensive hamburgers. In restaurants like the Wall
Street Burger Shoppe in New York you could get the Richard Nouveau Burger (Kobe
beef, truffles, foie gras) for $175
while over at Fleur in Las Vegas you could get the virtually identical
Fleurburger for just $75 (or $5,000 if you decided to have it with wine). At
the same time Dr. Mark Post of Maastricht
University started work
on his own special burger. It would take him five years, but now that Wall
Street Burger has closed down and the PR effect of the Fleur is wearing off, it
seems that at least in terms of cost, Post has won the prize. At a crowded
press conference on August 5th, the world’s media crowded in for a
glimpse of a single patty that carried a hypothetical price tag of $330,000.
This
burger did not consist of pampered Kobe
or Beluga caviar, nor was it served on an Iranian saffron bun. Post’s burger
was the first in the world to be cooked using laboratory grown beef. This
synthetic product, known as ‘in-vitro meat’, has been developed from the
biopsied stem cells of cows. The cells are bonded with muscle fibres and are
cultivated in a nutrient rich mixture of lipids, glucose and amino acids. The
resultant tissue is then formed into translucent strips before the whole
process is repeated until enough material is accumulated to be colored and
packed into the shape of the burger.
This
story has been periodically hitting the press since the start of the project.
In an article
from November 2011, the process was described as using stem cells harvested
from “leftover animal material from slaughterhouses”, with Post claiming that
It may sound and look
like some kind of imitation, but in-vitro or cultured meat is a real animal
flesh product, just one that has never been part of a complete, living animal
-- quite different from imitation meat or meat substitutes aimed at vegetarians
and made from vegetable proteins like soy.
Following
on from the high profile unveiling of his ‘prototype’, this kind of simulacral
and detrital imagery will no doubt fuel the claims that in-vitro meat constitutes
‘frankenfood’.
Indeed, some responses
to the launch brought Soylent Green
into the mix of references.
Soylent Green is a film from 1973 directed by
Richard Fleischer based Harry Harrison’s 1966 novel Make
Room! Make Room! Set in the far-flung year of 2022 (the year in
which, according to the predictions of Post’s team, will see the mass
production of in-vitro meat) it shows an over-crowded population facing a
severe housing crisis and a potentially terminal food shortage. As an efficient
solution the global Soylent Corporation produces ‘Soylent Green’, a rationed
protein wafer allegedly made from plankton.
Sincere apologies for the spoiler, but the product turns out (of course)
not to be planktonic but human: the solution to the food shortage caused by
over-population being the harvesting of corpses and the implied establishment
of human farms.
Cannibalism
is obviously not in question with
in-vitro meat, but the comparison with Fleischer’s film does raise some points
worthy of critique. The stated
advantages of the process are environmental and humanistic. Using stem-cells to
create meat in the laboratory will reduce the need to harvest cattle directly,
thereby achieving a cheap, healthy food supply in the absence of the animal
cruelty and excessive land cultivation that is involved in industrial
farming.
It is
very hard to challenge such a socially conscious discourse. What can be said is
that given the long history of the industrial slaughterhouse and its opposition
(Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle
from 1906 being a key example), it’s notable that this argument is being made
now in relation to this particular technology. A more pragmatic and less
idealistic view would argue that the process and its discourse is a
manifestation of the post-2008 ideologies of austerity and capitalist
apocalypticism. If, as Josh Ozersky argues, the hamburger is
symbolic of American corporatism, it’s appropriate that its early 21st
century incarnation is one that eschews the production-line of the 1950s,
responds to the environmental crisis of the 1990s and appears to reverse the
trajectory of the excessive spending of the 2000s.
On the
back of this analysis, a basic counterargument to the stated efficacy of Post’s
burger would be that catering to the world’s food needs has nothing to do with
supply or volume. The issue is not one of shortage per se, but one of distribution. The right amount of food exists
but it simply does not reach everybody who needs it. An extended version of the same argument
would point to the financial involvement of Google founder Sergey Brin in the
in-vitro meat project. The symbolism of Google possibly moving into the food
market to complement its monopolization of web searches, global maps and
cybernetic interfaces could at best be seen as a further prescriptive creation
of supply in the absence of a pre-existing demand and at worst, an example of
what could be called ‘hostage capitalism’. That’s to say, now that Google is channeling some of its considerable resources into a high-profile product with
a seemingly undeniable social benefit why should the company be questioned
about its dubious tax practices? After all, “don’t be evil” is coded into
Google’s existence. Do you really want the flow of capital (and hence research,
development and therefore food) to stop?
The
point is this: apocalyptic scenarios and their seemingly miraculous solutions
often obfuscate the longer term, specifically catastrophic processes that have led to the points of crisis
themselves. Such emergency conditions do not allow the deeper fault lines to be
inspected and improved. In addition, the liberal humanist ideology at work in
the promotion of in-vitro meat is fabulous in theory but becomes questionable
when hypothesized in practice. Once developed into mass production it’s
unfeasible to assume that laboratory meat will entirely replace the cultivation
of cattle and thus achieve its stated utopian aims. Livestock farming is far
too hard-wired into the global economy and labor culture for it to be rendered
obsolete. As such, the most ominous
scenario to be extrapolated from the public launch of Post’s ‘petri’ meat is
that at some point it will exist as a synthetic food source in parallel with
the production and consumption of ‘real’ meat. This would be problematic
because as has been demonstrated by structural developments in comparable
sectors such as health, education and transport, the emergence of a seismic
differential parallelism in the food industry would quickly ossify into (or at
the very least be read as) a qualitative hierarchy.
For all
its hysteria, it’s at this point that Soylent
Green’s prophetic potential is revealed.
At one point in the film Robert Thorn, a detective played by Charlton
Heston visits the home of Tab Fielding, a possible suspect in a murder
investigation. There he finds a jar of strawberry jam. After savoring a single
spoonful, Thorn considers the jam to be suggestive of Fielding’s involvement in
the murder. Why? Because within the food shortages of 2022, authentic
strawberry jam is an enormous luxury and an extremely expensive commodity. For a mere ‘bodyguard’ like Fielding, Thorn
reasons, it must have come as a result of a significant pay-off. A
conspiratorial reading of in-vitro meat would project a similar outcome as a
result of its widespread production: not the end of cattle farming, but the
amplification of its meat products to the level of elite consumer items.
If the August 5th launch is to be taken as an opportunity for speculation what, then, is the probable rise of in-vitro meat realistically likely to produce? A healthy market for
Monolith 3: Dreamland
[Last
summer] the Central Intelligence Agency publicly acknowledged the existence
of the Nevada Test and Training Centre, a large isolated airfield some 83 miles
northwest of Las Vegas that is more commonly known by its designated Atomic
Energy Commission grid number, Area 51. Despite the clear visibility of the
complex on Google Maps, the detailed testimony of former employees and the
embedded presence of the facility in popular media, the specific location and
function of Area 51 have not previously been subject to any official
confirmations. Since the establishment of the site at Groom
Lake in 1955, the US military and
the CIA have maintained a stubborn silence on the mater through a combination
of denial and redaction. However, following a series of freedom of information
requests made by the National Security Archive at George Washington University,
the CIA have for the first time made available a clear map of the base and
provided some details of the projects developed there.
Area 51
has long been known as the site of cold-war era research into surveillance and
stealth technologies. The expanse of Groom
Lake provided the space
and isolation necessary for the development of sensitive prototype aircraft.
However, this combination of security, obscurity and experimentation also
caused the base to become one of modern ufology’s most glamorous sites of
attention. Often seen shimmering in photographs like a distant mirage, Area 51
stands as a physical crucible of post-war conspiratorial thinking, associated
with everything from UFO recovery and reverse engineering to research into time
travel and teleportation. There is no other Air Force location that so
immediately signifies the apparent actuality of government funded black
operations.
Like a
modern day Alamut, Area 51 seems to hold the most glittering prizes relating to
the grandest of conspiracies. And yet it’s this impossible prestige that points
to another kind of glamour, glamour in the sense of spell or charm; that which
is used to project a particular belief or perception of reality. A glamour is a
type of smokescreen and the ‘disinformation’ school of ufology would say the
same thing about Area 51. Its status as ‘Dreamland’, the HQ of the unexplained,
is a constructed reputation. Its strange combination of visible invisibility and
badly kept secrets have been used as decoys that have allowed something else and
somewhere else to hide in plain sight.
Both of these perspectives are active in the media
response to news of the CIA disclosure. On August 16th, The Telegraph carried a story headed “Area
51 does exist and there were strange goings on admit CIA”. ‘Admit’ is the key
word here. In contrast to ‘disclose’ in which the possessor of information
allows it to be seen, ‘admit’ relates to a confession, a process of conceding
to the truth of that which is already known by others. By tying this word to
“Area 51” and “strange goings on” the implication is created of a revelation
worthy of Deep Throat; a confirmation that everything associated with Dreamland
is true. This is reiterated in the story’s subhead:
The existence of
Area 51, the US
airbase rumored to house UFOs, along with details of some strange activities
that went on there have been officially acknowledged in newly released CIA
documents.
Here, a clausal phrase is used to describe Area 51
as “the US
airbase rumored to house UFOs”. Although the contentious word ‘UFO’ is clearly
tied to ‘rumor’, by using this as the point of definition in the sentence, the
suggestion is created that by acknowledging the “existence of Area 51”, the CIA
have simultaneously confirmed the rumor.
However,
the reality of the ‘admission’ is somewhat more prosaic. The story emerged from
a post on the National Security Archive blog (dated 15th August)
written by their Senior Research Fellow Jeffrey T. Richelson. He explains that
the information released is specifically linked to the history of the U-2 spy
plane. In 1992 the CIA issued an account of the U-2 programme and the later
OXCART project by their official historians Gregory Pedlow and Donald
Welzenbach. This study, The Central
Intelligence Agency and Overhead Reconnaissance remained an exclusively
internal document until it was published in 1998 as The CIA and the U-2 Program, 1954-1974, a volume that contained
what Richelson called “a heavily redacted version of the U-2 portion”. The FOIA
request, made in 2005, related directly to this volume and what the NSA
announced was the appearance of a “substantially less redacted version” of the
text.
For
Richelson and aviation historians like Chris Pocock, the main value of the new
text lies with the information it provides with respect to the previously
unknown minutiae of the U-2 project:
names of pilots, code names and cryptonymes,
locations, funding and cover arrangements, electronic countermeasures
equipment, organization, co-operation with foreign governments and operations,
particularly in Asia .
The
references to Groom
Lake and Area 51 appear
as part of the contextual background to this new data. As a result, whilst
these geographical references are symbolically important for the historical
report, they are comparatively less useful than the details listed above as
their declassification merely confirms facts that have been known – and
verifiable – for decades.
However,
what is significant about the acknowledgement of Area 51 is the light it
sheds on the politics of governmental transparency. As Richelson explained to
the BBC, the “long period of secrecy was notable because of the extent people
across the world were already aware of Area 51’s existence.” These recent
disclosures must then have emerged from a “conscious, deliberate decision”
having first reached a “high-enough level” of discussion.
Although the wave of news stories each reported on the details of Richelson’s blog post, the latter implication was largely obscured beneath the kind of admissive implications used in The Telegraph. The recapitulation of this myth of absolute revelation, central to what could be termed ‘epiphanic’ ufology, essentially puts into operation the kind of smokescreen decried by critics of disinformation. It avoids the key issue that pinballs between paranormal speculation and official declassification: the political economy of information.
This is
the concern of Area 51 researchers such as David Darlington, whose book The Dreamland Chronicles (1998) reads conspiracy theory as a critique of
political obfuscation within an apparent democracy. As the Snowden case
continues to prove, the ethics of disclosure in a security context are
difficult to unravel. However in order to effectively question the policies
that govern knowledge, it’s important to understand their internal mechanisms.
So, while those termed ‘UFO hunters’ by the media may indeed be disappointed
that the contents of Area 51’s
underground tunnels have still not be revealed and that the Men in Black
remain in the shadows, there is much to be welcomed in the recent U-2 papers. Although
they may actually disclose little, they have much to say about the strategies
that make disclosure possible.
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