The Power of Obsession
Sometimes, in the morning, when my body is starting to achieve consciousness, my mind picks something familiar, in attempts to remind my being that it is alive. Some mornings, it’s the light slipping through the blinds, a melody of sunlight darting towards the dark parts under the eye, to make that what is salted in darkness, visible. And other mornings, it’s the ringing of a pop culture intruder: TS Madison reciting Nicki Minaj lyrics in a poetic manner, a video of Jennifer Coolidge saying hi, a musical from 1934 or “Go, go, go, go. Who’s next?!” The bell tolls, reverberating through my mind, vibrating through my self, into my language and actions. Instead of shutting down these intrusive thoughts, I encourage them.
I’ve watched every season of Rupaul’s Drag Race multiple times. I know everything about musical theatre. Give me an actress and I’ll give you all her theatre credits. My list of my niche obsessions goes on and on. If I got on Jeopardy and the categories were Broadway and gay porn stars, I would 100% win all the money. Moving every detail of these subjects into my knowledge banks is not an easy task. It requires that one makes themselves a cultural pariah. I’ve seen like four movies— one of them includes The Fifth Element. One must create a finsta to follow every interior designer on the planet, one must learn the history of the chair. My time to have watched Breaking Bad has passed because I spent that time making a fantasy bracket of who would win Legally Blonde: The Musical— The Search For Elle Woods.
My obsessive nature started in high school. And as one would say now, I started “stanning” pop punk music. Yes, I went through the phase of trying to know really obscure musical acts that the other weirdos in my high school hadn’t heard of yet. I wanted to know everything; all the band members’ names, the chord progressions, their influences. On a 16-hour road trip to Disney World, I listened to the entire discography of My Chemical Romance on repeat until every sound was pitched into my memory bank, locked inside for all eternity. My second phase was strictly Broadway musicals. I was a frequent reader of the Broadway World and AllThatChat message boards. I downloaded bootleg recordings of Broadway musicals. I sang along to the burnt CDs of all the Broadway hits, locked in my room, spinning like a 42nd street DJ from my 6 disc changer stereo. The true trigger of all this obsession was, most likely, my attempt to find joy.
In a way, these fixations lead the obsessed closer to a kind of Nirvana, closer to what delights the body and puts it in proximity to a version of momentary and controlled happiness, that otherwise is fleeting. Obsession is a passionate expression of livelihood, finding a way to stamp down into one’s existence by making sure the heart beats in a certain pattern every now and then. To know one’s deepest joys, to some attachment of the real world, helps the obsessed to call on a glee that sustains— while also building a foundation for one’s personality or, persona, how one navigates their place in the world.
Obsession is also power. I may find an opportunity to drop a little known historic fact about here and there. To sit in a room of peers and, well, to know the things that they do not know; the intricacies of Blackness and the wide breath of queerness. To know small quiet facts; Twombly’s Mourning of Achilles, all the lyrics to Lil Wayne’s “A Milli",” or the history of the musical Cabaret. In a room where the others are unaware, ignorant, or simply not capable of comprehending fully— there lies the power.
And this power, though it may lie in hierarchy, also has an intangible quality of togetherness. Together, drunk at a dive bar in Austin, we sing the score of Caroline, or Change. Together, we mosh to Fall Out Boy and New Found Glory and Sum 41 at a bar on the west side of the river. Together, we’re amazed at the beauty and the the light seeping through each other’s eyes as we let these little references move us closer to each other. Theses cogs and gears of joy click together. we are left are left in the machine, one we can crank and turn when necessary. With a partner or, a friend— maybe even two.
“Camp is solvent of morality. It neutralizes moral indignation, sponsors playfulness.”
— Susan Sontag
“But had I accepted the pickle juice, I would be drinking pickle juice right now.”
— Nicki Minaj
Welcome To The TikTok Nation
Escapism in sixty seconds or less is ideal at the beginning of world shattering global pandemic that puts you and everyone you know locked up and sectioned off. And now at over a year of religiously watching TikToks as the trends change, new audio is introduced and as the comedy becomes more insulary, I ready to talk about the potent and invasive way TikTok has ruined all our lives. This dissertation would be called: “Bitch, I’m a Mother:” the birthing of camp aesthetics in the 21st century via social media, the evolution of modern camp and into morphing of Susan Sontag’s Notes on Camp camp itself. Or maybe, “Is it Bussin’, Jannelle;”Are You Valid? Or, Are You a Flop?
After the vestiges of Vine, where they were scattered to the realm of Youtube collected into compilations, a new form of miniature entertain was born. Not Quibi. TikTok! The user can record video with audio seamlessly, share with others and then receive Internet Points from people around the world. TikTok now runs the gambit in cultural consumption in the way that it consumes old and new pop culture, songs, reality shows and then configures their separate, and often discordant meanings, into something excellent poignant about mental health advocacy in the United States. TikTok has seeped into the zeitgeist, into the cultural milieu, to affect not only the way we think about pop culture and its meaning, but also in the ways in which we:
speak— the influcations, the speech patterns, the vernacular,
physically move that’s influenced by the choreography, hand gestures and body placements often seen in many TikToks,
and in other ways that push us towards social movements, truths about dominant capitalist industries and aids in more retail consumption.
Now TikTok has become a landscape filled with comedians, impressionists, chefs— even alleged cult members. There are subsects of TikTok: GardenTok, WitchTok, FashionTok. Or, there’s someone posting a tweet and then laughing at it for 60 seconds. And then many others of the users are taking from what they excel at in their real lives: being a Broadway actor, a psychotherapist, a florist while applying their expertise to the app. This landscape I like to think of as TikTok split into many different categories called TikTok Genres. These genres, featuring hashtags, tell the algorithm what should appear on your For You Page, what content will help you to stay engaged with the app. These genres also help to connect you to other users. Seriously, people have moved to France inspired by others (and then created TikToks on how to do it), found long lost siblings and lovers, and raised awareness about a variety of causes that should have more attention. TikTok Genres have manufactured an almost cosmic energy around subversion and the sublime attack on the ordinary in the content makers’ attempts to stay relevant in the fast paced game of social media.
One staple, in the aforementioned TikTok Genres, is lip syncing using an audio of someone’s iconic speech from pop culture while adding text to the video that reflects the same over all meaning. In ry_sic’s TikTok, “when I unmute myself to say “ok,” the creator uses the green screen filter to place themselves as Lady Gaga, their body covering where she originally sat in an iconic interview with Oprah. The audio of Lady Gaga’s response is lip synced using a Roku remote as a microphone to explicate modernity’s use of Zoom.
Another example: User userbjm uses audio from a Instagram Live of a Black person condemning interracial relationships. With his partner just out of view. but his white head beaming just out of frame, the audio accompanying the video goes “You may not bring your white wife. You may not bring your white wife.” while userbjm, holds the phone looking confused and concerned. The caption of the video (when my family asks who my plus one is) and the audio of the video create a secondary meaning.
These TikToks are a little the first level of definition. They’re inventive, using audio from a sourced pop culture moment and crossing it with a cultural meaning to expound on a point of view. It’s pretty basic TikTok but it’s effective, short and sweet. Meaning happens on a one to one correlation, enacted by its separate parts. Through the creation of this video, there is a symbiosis between visuals, audio and text. The creator pulls from different sources and mediums to highlight something about the mundanity of living. It’s the new performance art, baby!
The genre has expanded commentary into a wildly camp aesthetic. Often, as users explore more ways to create good content, the clips feature a mix of audios— music from popular artists (Nicki Minaj), references to older TikToks (that also reference cultural observation) and video that either upturns the audio or reinforces it into a “common” cultural observation. In this TikTok by turnmeanh, the creator lip syncs to Nicki Minaj, exclaiming “I got a big fat ass. (ass smacking noise) Come on!” turnmeanh waves to their partner to follow. The two walk away, swiveling their hips in a way that, culturally, one recognizes as a particular kind of person’s walk— an office administrator, a dad retreating after an outrageous dad joke. This walk also is a reference of a cultural observation, made popular on the app by user snarkymarky (Candice, you ready?).
This melding of meanings, pop culture stables and societal observations, has began to produce a new sense of special pop cultural reverence! (The kids have discovered Fosse choreo!) A reference of a reference to another TikTok, the encouragement of the user to get their masc presenting partner to shake their butt on camera, the meme-fication of a 2014 record by Nicki Minaj— these elements all blend into making a tertiary meaning, a heightened meaning. A meaning that seeks to converge every possible use of media and pop culture to simply make someone laugh, or smile, or, even cry.
TikTok is a jungle of meaning. You get to a clearing where the vine-like trees have moved their weight away from your sightlines, where you can see the moss on the roots of a trees and a soft babbling creek moving westward— that’s where the organic valences of meaning lie. One often finds themselves searching for the original audio, video or song that is featured in many of the TikToks that land on one’s For You Page. One finds themselves then evaluating the different interpretations and heightened inerations of a certain trend or audio until one has found the most creative, the video in which one connects to the most, or the one you’ll watch ten times in a row, laughing at 3 AM under your blankets.
This might not make ANY sense whatsoever, but but but download the app (not sponsored) and watch some TikToks. Try it for a few days, then get back to me!
Pop Culture Bites
I wish I was a chef but I can’t cook so here’s some internet yummies for your tummies.
I love all these video sketch comedians, making content that we can access on our phones. I mean, when they’re done right. Not like someone who’s wildly hot who also thinks they’re funny. It just happens to be so that all these folks are STUNNING. Ok, here’s some of my faves I go back to every week.
Paul Revere but a Homo.
A restaurant that does things a LITTLE DIFFERENTLY HERE.
Wealthy Brooklyn Moms during the pandemic.
An oral history of a gay knock-off franchise of another parody franchise of an actual teen movie franchise from the early aughts!
Angela Bassett performing all of Macbeth in 2 minutes.
Everyone, Anne Heche!
And the Academy Awards goes to… Anthony Hopkins ??
The Least Competitive Reality Show Ever
Netflix’s The Circle premiered in the spring of 2020, near the beginning of the pandemic. The show reached out to many by mimicking our new insular mode of living, how we were connecting through social media and video calls in our continued efforts as human beings to connect. The main goal of The Circle is to fool the other players into thinking you’re “you” and not a completely false version of you, unless, of course, you’re pretending to be a completely false version of yourself. Contestants are:
Pretending to be someone else to help garner likes from the other contestants for being a “real” version of a human.
Being “real” by playing a version of yourself they think will be most likable.
Or, pretending to be Lance Bass.
The Circle imagines social media, closest in resemblance to Facebook, as a persona game, where one can be “real” or “fake.” Like in the actual world of social media, persona is a paramount to a lively experience on the internet. Like in poetry, the reader is to believe that speaker of the poem is not the poet (in some schools of thought)— merely a representation or abstracted version of the poet and/or the poet using persona as a device to speak through someone or something else. Social media, in our age, is all abstraction— the best photos, the most entertaining days, the sunset have to be striking. Even if one is being their real self, if one is funny on Twitter, or takes sexy tasteful male nudes on Instagram, these internet outputs are just shells of persona enacted by the user. Even those who choose sincerity or “realness” are in counterpoint to their IRL selves.
Last year’s winner, SHOOBY!, ran on a simple campaign of being authentically himself. And that’s what The Circle initially set out to prove: that connection happens through authenticity. And that can happen even through social media! The second season is wildly different. The majority of the contestants are catfishes who are playing “strategic” to win the ultimate prize, a hundred thousand dollars. This antithesis seems truer to the manner in which we actually engage with others via the internet.
This may be the producers’ attempts to make the show more entertaining. With psychological warfare, trickery, and lust. Whatever it may be, I find this reality competition show to be the least competitive reality competition show ever. Truly, the stakes are try to make friends with people across a screen. No shade. I literally do this all the time. As it goes, it’s likely that a catfish will win this season. This season has the players being more manipulative but less in pursuit of the show’s original goal— which having a catfish win would definitely switch the first season’s outcomes.
Other competition shows are based on the talents of the contestants (physical strength, makeup skills, vocal ability) and this one is like— can you play friendship tinder? I don’t see where the high stakes competition is in this show, where the pressure cooker sits and causes the players to act wild. Still, I’m excited to see who wins and how the other contestants react to meeting each other IRL. Buttttt as far as competition shows go, this one is no Rupaul’s Drag Race.
What are your thoughts on season two of The Circle? Share below!
Hey Flop Tweet! Girl You’ve Done It Again
constantly flopping for all of us. and doing it flawlessly
Come back next week, folks! I’m thinking… love letter to Artpop and Musicals That Aren’t Problematic! xoxo