Zizek's piece struck me the most this week, I think. The quote, “Was not the framing of the shot itself reminiscent of spectacular shots in catastrophe movies?” (231), resonates deeply. America is the setting for disaster movies, action shots, war, chaos, violence, and confusion. Most of our biggest blockbuster films are action-packed and typically involved a demolished building or two. Some of the most popular video games in the United States feature warfare and killing. Sports rule as society's most popular social event; the competitiveness reigns supreme. All of this feeds into the overarching desire for combativeness in American society.
“America got what it fantasized about, and that was the biggest surprise” (233). America has this lustful desire for that combativeness, that outrageous action. Yet, up close and personal, when the disaster becomes real, or all too real, we reel it back in, dial it back a notch. We realize that reality and fiction are two vastly different things, and that "be careful what you wish for" is a harsh truth.
On another note, Eco's piece about Disneyland is a fun one to explore. “The United States is filled with cities that imitate a city” (200). That's what tourism is, essentially. Not every place, not every city or town can be as grand or as unique as New York City, Chicago, Las Vegas, or Hollywood can be. Orlando mimics New York's Ball Drop on New Years Eve. Las Vegas mimics Paris' Eiffel Tower. Portland, Oregon copies off of the small town weirdness, the vibes of all-naturalness. Each place has its own schtick, but that uniqueness derives from somewhere else. Disney is often praised as being a completely made up world, but the truth of the matter is that the theme parks often adopt from other existing places. Castles are modeled off of preexisting ones in Europe. The famous Chinese theater has a replica in Hollywood Studios. Epcot's World Showcase attempts to miniaturize whole countries into to smaller, iconic models. We know, as park Guests, that these models are fakes, that they are nowhere near seeing the real thing in person, but we are still amazed. “Disneyland is also a place of total passivity. Its visitors must agree to behave like robots” (205). If one goes against the illusion, if one chooses not to participate, then the veil is broken and the whole charade falls apart. It simply doesn't work if people don't willingly go along with it and abide by the rules that Disney made up for them. So, instead, we choose to ooh and ah when we see the tiny Stave Church, the forced perspective of the American Adventure pavilion, and the faux cameras aimed at that faraway top half piece of the Eiffel Tower in Central Florida.
“America got what it fantasized about, and that was the biggest surprise” (233). America has this lustful desire for that combativeness, that outrageous action. Yet, up close and personal, when the disaster becomes real, or all too real, we reel it back in, dial it back a notch. We realize that reality and fiction are two vastly different things, and that "be careful what you wish for" is a harsh truth.
On another note, Eco's piece about Disneyland is a fun one to explore. “The United States is filled with cities that imitate a city” (200). That's what tourism is, essentially. Not every place, not every city or town can be as grand or as unique as New York City, Chicago, Las Vegas, or Hollywood can be. Orlando mimics New York's Ball Drop on New Years Eve. Las Vegas mimics Paris' Eiffel Tower. Portland, Oregon copies off of the small town weirdness, the vibes of all-naturalness. Each place has its own schtick, but that uniqueness derives from somewhere else. Disney is often praised as being a completely made up world, but the truth of the matter is that the theme parks often adopt from other existing places. Castles are modeled off of preexisting ones in Europe. The famous Chinese theater has a replica in Hollywood Studios. Epcot's World Showcase attempts to miniaturize whole countries into to smaller, iconic models. We know, as park Guests, that these models are fakes, that they are nowhere near seeing the real thing in person, but we are still amazed. “Disneyland is also a place of total passivity. Its visitors must agree to behave like robots” (205). If one goes against the illusion, if one chooses not to participate, then the veil is broken and the whole charade falls apart. It simply doesn't work if people don't willingly go along with it and abide by the rules that Disney made up for them. So, instead, we choose to ooh and ah when we see the tiny Stave Church, the forced perspective of the American Adventure pavilion, and the faux cameras aimed at that faraway top half piece of the Eiffel Tower in Central Florida.
Comments
Post a Comment