Greetings and salutations.
Here’s an ad I saw yesterday as I was reading through the most recent issue of Wired magazine:

(The scan comes from the Stay Free! Daily blog, “Media criticism, consumer culture, & Brooklyn curiosities from Stay Free! magazine.” So, if you’re into any or all of these things, check them out. They’re pretty cool.)
Anyway, you may recall that in class on Monday we discussed Clifford Geertz’s seminal essay, “Deep Play: Notes on the Balinese Cockfight,” in which Geertz argues that close “reading” of cockfighting (which was a cultural phenomenon in Bali while Geertz and his wife were there), can lead to valid, productive understandings of the culture as a whole.
I’ll let Geertz explain himself:
“[The cockfight] is a Balinese reading of Balinese experience; a story they tell themselves about themselves. [. . . .] Drawing on almost every level of Balinese experience, it brings together themes — animal savagery, male narcissism, opponent gambling, status rivalry, mass excitement, blood sacrifice — whose main connection is their involvement with rage and the fear of rage, and, binding them into a set of rules which at once contains them and allows them play, builds a symbolic structure in which, over and over again, the reality of their inner affiliation can be intelligibly felt. If, to quote Northrop Frye again, we go to see Macbeth to learn what a man feels like after he has gained a kingdom and lost his soul, the Balinese go to cockfights to find out what a man, usually composed, aloof, almost obsessively self-absorbed, a kind of moral autocosm, feels like when, attacked, tormented, challenged, insulted, and driven in result to the extremes of fury, he has totally triumphed or been brought totally low.”
Thinking through these issues, both sections of the course debated whether they thought this dynamic could also be observed in our own cultural interest (obsession?) with sports. Whether our identification with certain teams, and our senses of individual powerfulness, pride, and our place in the world is also mediated through our spectatorship in sporting events. And finally, whether we, like the Balinese, use these events (among others) to bring the “assorted experiences of everyday life to focus.”
Which, finally, brings us back to the Acura ad. The Acura TL Type-S, we are told, is “a civilized way to handle your aggression.” In smaller print the good folks at Acura inform us that “the civilized way to handle aggression is to embrace it.”
Say what?
Luckily for us, “Aggression has been refined.” Presumably by the aggression-enablers at Acura labs.
Now, I think that reasonable people could easily come to different conclusions when debating whether cheering for a sports team is a “civilized” way to vicariously experience and “handle” one’s aggression. Likewise whether playing violent video games either increases (by habituating players to violence) or lowers (by mediating and providing an acceptable outlet for possible impulses) aggression in players.
But is there anyone on the roads today who feels the need for more, and more widely distributed, road rage? And is there any other way to interpret a car ad that encourages drivers to embrace their aggression while driving?
As Geertz might say, the story this ad is telling ourselves about ourselves isn’t a pretty one. The moderately wealthy (Acura’s suggested retail price for the TL S-Type starts at $38,125, more than half of the median yearly income for 4-person families in the US) feel aggression, and need vehicular means for expressing that aggression. From this we can extrapolate that even those not in the expansive category of the “moderately wealthy,” (that would be the vast majority of people in this county, and the vast, vast, unimaginably vast majority of people in the world) might also feel aggression that they’d like (aspire to) to being able to embrace on the road. Further, as the smaller type tells us “While enjoying sophisticated technology like voice-activated navigation and real-time traffic monitoring, Aggression [sic] has been refined,” we must conclude (from the “while” and list of driving-dependant features) that the way to handle/embrace your aggression necessitates taking it out for a spin. Is it still civilized to embrace your aggression if you drive a 1987 Civic?
I’ll try to remember this the next time some moderately wealthy person cuts me off or swerves into my lane — they’re not jerks or bad drivers.
They’re civilized.
What do you make of this?
(X-posted to my blog, Digital Digressions)