days seven, eight, and nine
Music: Shelby Lynne: Just a Little Lovin'
My last day in NYC was a blast: James and I saw Dr. E! off, and then we did some laundry, and then we hooked up for dinner and drinks with Steve Llano (gallery here). Now, I'm sitting in the dining room of my most gracious host, Jeremy Engels, as I await my ride this morning for a day of record shop tourism with Eric Fuchs (and perhaps some spelunking). Eric and I went to grad school toget her at Minnesota (and he is as much a fanatic about pop music as I am). Today should be a lot of fun. I'm also looking forward to a rhetoric reading group discussion tonight about Burke, Freud, and the concept of identification.
I did finally make it to State College without too much of a delay, certainly in time for visiting with Jeremy's most excellent "Rhetoric and Democratic Theory" seminar. Gosh, what a smart and lively bunch of folks. Of course, nothing beats our UT students, but I think the Penn State folks I met yesterday and our folks would really get along. It's always a good sign when serious-minded discussion turns into flights of laughter. Last night we spent some time working through the meaning of kitsch, its distinction from camp, and the ambivalence of both in respect to cynicism. For example, could we fruitfully describe certain understandings of democracy as kitsch?
Even though the leaves are not yet on the trees, Penn State is beautiful. The architecture is interesting, especially because---from what I could see---the university didn't suffer from the exploding ugly-building boom on state university campuses across the country in the 1970s. The "stately" campus boarders, of course, a vibrant college village of bars, coffee shops, and discount bookstores. Like an idiot I forgot my camera yesterday, but I hope to capture digitally the scene better today.
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I'm no longer sitting in Jeremy's dining room, but a groovy coffee shop/book store combo called "Webster's" in downtown State College. Yesterday Eric and I toured a music shop and a waffle diner, and then glory of glories, I got to meet the Bust of Burke at the Special Collection room at the library. Those of you who have met said bust could appreciate my reaction: the dude looks crazy. Apparently there's a photograph of Burke posing with his bust; I must locate that . . . .
Last evening I met with the "Rhetoric Reading Group" at Mike and Lisa Hogan's place. It was a blast, the discussion was lively, and I daresay Diane Davis and Mark Wright have a few new fans (we read their work on Burke, Freud, and identification). One thing that came up in the discussion was the issue of leadership in movement studies: Does a social movement or political group need a leader or not? Psychoanalysis (namely, Freud) would insist that yes, a transferential object is needed. Jeremy mentioned that Foucault's understanding of governmentality might suggest a social movement sans leader. This discussion then led to the question: what happens if, in the Freudian model, the leader becomes a faceless crowd, a "public" of sorts? I was thinking in particular of YouTube.com and other websites on which people seek the recognition of a mysterious and faceless public by publicizing their private lives. Certainly something to think about. A handful of us---me, Mike, Jenny, Jeremy and Eric) to Ottos for a brew or three (yum).
As I catch up on emails and blogging today, Jeremy is dining with an incoming student. This afternoon there is a colloquy I'm attending (on the topic of philosophy and ontology, I'm told), and then a cocktail party at Rachel Smith's house (Rachel used to be at UT and suffered my loudness as our offices were next door). Yeeeeeehhhhhaaaawwwwwwww!