A Going the and Postal: of psychoanalytic reading media social death drive

"If the punchy, claustrophobic anti-sociality of programs in the first lockdown suggested an especially black vision for the future, the Action for Dark Lives road uprising of the late spring thought like their wondrous opposite—the next in which tools were responding to and being structured by the activities on the floor, rather than these events being structured by and formed to the demands of the platforms. This was anything price our time and commitment, something which surpassed our compulsion to write, something that—for a minute, at least—the Twittering Equipment couldn't swallow.

Maybe not so it was not trying. As people in the roads toppled statues and struggled police, persons on the systems altered and refashioned the uprising from a block motion to a subject for the use and expression of the Twittering Machine. What was occurring off-line must be accounted for, described, judged, and processed. Didactic story-lectures and photographs of well stored antiracist bookshelves appeared on Instagram. On Facebook, the most common pundits and pedants sprang up demanding details for each and every slogan and justifications for every action. In these problem trolls and reply guys, Seymour's chronophage was literalized. The social industry does not only consume our time with countless stimulus and algorithmic scrolling; it takes our time by creating and marketing individuals who occur only to be told, visitors to whom the planet has been developed anew every day, people for whom every settled sociological, clinical, and political controversy of modernity should be rehashed, rewritten, and re-accounted, this time using their participation.

These individuals, using their just-asking questions and vapid open words, are dullards and bores, pettifoggers and casuists, cowards and dissemblers, time-wasters of the worst sort. But Seymour's guide suggests something worse about people, their Twitter and Facebook interlocutors: That we want to waste our time. That, but significantly we might complain, we find pleasure in endless, rounded argument. That people get some sort of satisfaction from tedious debates about "free speech" and "cancel culture." That we seek oblivion in discourse. In the machine-flow atemporality of social media marketing, that appears like no good crime. If time is an endless resource, you will want to spend several ages of it with a couple New York Instances op-ed columnists, restoring each of American thought from first axioms? But political and economic and immunological crises pile on each other in succession, over the background roar of ecological collapse. Time isn't infinite. None folks can afford to spend what is left of it dallying with the stupid and bland."


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