Chuck Klosterman On Pop Part 5

In 2006 I delivered a lecture at Boston University, and a person in the audience wanted to know what I thought of the Weezer alb.u.m Make Believe Make Believe. This man, for whatever reason, was extremely upset about it. "Is Rivers trying to f.u.c.k with us?" he asked. "That alb.u.m contains three of the worst songs ever recorded." I mentioned there were at least three songs on the alb.u.m I liked: "Beverly Hills," "We Are All on Drugs," and "Freak Me Out." The man in the audience immediately lost his mind. "Those are the three songs I was referring to!" he exclaimed. "They're terrible. It's almost feels like he's trying to make fun of me for buying his music."

This is a strangely common sentiment; since returning from a self-imposed musical exile in 2001, there has often been a sense that Cuomo is mocking the kind of utterly earnest person who loves Weezer the most. Weezer's relationship to the emo movement is central to this problem: They're not an "emo band" in any sonic respect, yet they're the most important group the genre has ever produced. Weezer defines what emo music is supposed to do-if Sunny Day Real Estate's "Seven" is the emo "Rock Around the Clock," then Weezer's 1996 soph.o.m.ore effort Pinkerton Pinkerton is the emo is the emo Sgt. Pepper Sgt. Pepper. The concept of a confessional male songwriter directly emoting to the audience about his own paralyzing insecurities is perfectly realized on Pinkerton, Pinkerton, and that makes it the defining doc.u.ment of the idiom. But here's the twist-traditionally, emo musicians draft a metaphorical contract with their fan base. The message is this: "I am telling you exactly how I feel, even if that feeling is problematic and embarra.s.sing and temporary, because we are ultimately the same people. We have all the same feelings, even if some of those feelings aren't real." For hard-core Weezer fans, that experience happened when they listened to and that makes it the defining doc.u.ment of the idiom. But here's the twist-traditionally, emo musicians draft a metaphorical contract with their fan base. The message is this: "I am telling you exactly how I feel, even if that feeling is problematic and embarra.s.sing and temporary, because we are ultimately the same people. We have all the same feelings, even if some of those feelings aren't real." For hard-core Weezer fans, that experience happened when they listened to Pinkerton Pinkerton. What they failed to realize was that the connection was accidental. Cuomo did not write those words to connect with other people. He did not make a conscious attempt to help confused teenagers understand themselves. It just worked out that way. But the a.s.sumption was that Cuomo had constructed this level of empathy and that this construction must must have been, to a certain degree, unreal. It had to have been-at least partially-a career move. No realistic human ever expects absolute authenticity from any musician; that expectation would feel naive, and it contradicts everything we know about how art is presented in the postmodern world. So when someone actually does this-when someone doesn't fabricate feeling for the sake of artistic purpose-we misread the motive. Rivers Cuomo is such a solipsistic writer that his fans cannot accept that he's giving them have been, to a certain degree, unreal. It had to have been-at least partially-a career move. No realistic human ever expects absolute authenticity from any musician; that expectation would feel naive, and it contradicts everything we know about how art is presented in the postmodern world. So when someone actually does this-when someone doesn't fabricate feeling for the sake of artistic purpose-we misread the motive. Rivers Cuomo is such a solipsistic writer that his fans cannot accept that he's giving them exactly exactly what they claim to want. Whenever he examines the process of being alive, he really isn't thinking about anyone except himself. He is beyond emo, and he's not lying about anything. what they claim to want. Whenever he examines the process of being alive, he really isn't thinking about anyone except himself. He is beyond emo, and he's not lying about anything.

This is what the question asker in Boston did not understand: He could not fathom that a person he believed to be working for him had never considered his needs at all. When he listened to a song about the desire to possess a swimming pool in Beverly Hills, it seemed to be the opposite of what he identified as his own desires. He thought it must be cheap sarcasm. When he listened to the song "We Are All on Drugs," it seemed like Cuomo was making a joke that did not have a punch line. In truth, there isn't even a joke. "We Are All on Drugs" is intended to be taken literally, except for the specific use of the word drugs drugs. That was the only abstract aspect of the entire track.1 "Freak Me Out" struck him as the single stupidest moment on the alb.u.m, particularly since the band had started claiming in interviews that the lyrics were about Rivers being frightened by a spider. To the question asker, this explanation made sense; "Freak Me Out" struck him as the single stupidest moment on the alb.u.m, particularly since the band had started claiming in interviews that the lyrics were about Rivers being frightened by a spider. To the question asker, this explanation made sense; of course of course it had to have an inherently facile meaning. Except that it clearly does not. Go on the Internet and read the lyrics-they are amazingly self-evident. It's not about a spider. It's a song about Cuomo walking down the street at night, only to have some random bozo jump in his face and say, "Hey! You're the guy from Weezer! Your band kicks a.s.s! But your alb.u.ms disappoint me! Can I take your picture with my cell phone?" The song is called "Freak Me Out" because it's about being freaked out (and then feeling guilty about your own reaction). The question asker from Boston hated "Freak Me Out" because it did not seem to match any feeling he'd ever had. This is because the inquisitor has absolutely nothing in common with the protagonist who wrote the song. He is not like Rivers Cuomo; he is more like the weirdo in the shadow. it had to have an inherently facile meaning. Except that it clearly does not. Go on the Internet and read the lyrics-they are amazingly self-evident. It's not about a spider. It's a song about Cuomo walking down the street at night, only to have some random bozo jump in his face and say, "Hey! You're the guy from Weezer! Your band kicks a.s.s! But your alb.u.ms disappoint me! Can I take your picture with my cell phone?" The song is called "Freak Me Out" because it's about being freaked out (and then feeling guilty about your own reaction). The question asker from Boston hated "Freak Me Out" because it did not seem to match any feeling he'd ever had. This is because the inquisitor has absolutely nothing in common with the protagonist who wrote the song. He is not like Rivers Cuomo; he is more like the weirdo in the shadow.

2A German film director Werner Herzog sometimes talks about truth being "elastic," a modifier that should indicate his definition of honesty does not have much to do with being literal. His persona is built around fictionalized mythologies: He's perceived as an egomaniac who supposedly pointed a loaded rifle at an actor in order to make him perform. While making the 1976 Bavarian gla.s.s-blowing epic German film director Werner Herzog sometimes talks about truth being "elastic," a modifier that should indicate his definition of honesty does not have much to do with being literal. His persona is built around fictionalized mythologies: He's perceived as an egomaniac who supposedly pointed a loaded rifle at an actor in order to make him perform. While making the 1976 Bavarian gla.s.s-blowing epic Heart of Gla.s.s, Heart of Gla.s.s, Herzog hypnotized members of the cast to make them seem zombie-like on-screen. His singular cinematic achievement is 1982's Herzog hypnotized members of the cast to make them seem zombie-like on-screen. His singular cinematic achievement is 1982's Fitzcarraldo, Fitzcarraldo, a movie where hundreds of Peruvian natives drag a 320-ton boat up the side of a mountain, entirely shot without the use of special effects. The dragging of the boat is a fictionalized version of a semi-historical event; in the late nineteenth century, a Peruvian rubber baron pulled a smaller steamship over a South American mountain, but even that craft was disa.s.sembled before it was moved. In other words, Herzog faked the reality of the event, but he did not fake the event itself: What happens in a movie where hundreds of Peruvian natives drag a 320-ton boat up the side of a mountain, entirely shot without the use of special effects. The dragging of the boat is a fictionalized version of a semi-historical event; in the late nineteenth century, a Peruvian rubber baron pulled a smaller steamship over a South American mountain, but even that craft was disa.s.sembled before it was moved. In other words, Herzog faked the reality of the event, but he did not fake the event itself: What happens in Fitzcarraldo Fitzcarraldo is actually more unbelievable than the story it's based upon. What was fabricated for the sake of the film was considerably more difficult than the factual achievement. To quote Herzog: "Facts create norms, but they do not create illumination." He once said he would only touch truth "with a pair of pliers." This sounds like a metaphor, but maybe it isn't. is actually more unbelievable than the story it's based upon. What was fabricated for the sake of the film was considerably more difficult than the factual achievement. To quote Herzog: "Facts create norms, but they do not create illumination." He once said he would only touch truth "with a pair of pliers." This sounds like a metaphor, but maybe it isn't.

So what does this mean? For one, it tells us that Germans are bizarre. But it also shows how truth is easier to accept when it's stridently unclear. We can watch Fitzcarraldo Fitzcarraldo and see its legitimacy precisely because Herzog is bending all sorts of lies for that final purpose. The situation is fake and the motives are fake, but the boat and the gravity are real. This makes us comfortable. It's the way we're now accustomed to consuming honesty in any film-tangential details are manipulated for the benefit of one Big Truth, which we are supposed to unspool upon retrospection (and also from the cognitive, preexisting understanding that this is a real f.u.c.king mountain and a real f.u.c.king boat, as no one who's ever watched and see its legitimacy precisely because Herzog is bending all sorts of lies for that final purpose. The situation is fake and the motives are fake, but the boat and the gravity are real. This makes us comfortable. It's the way we're now accustomed to consuming honesty in any film-tangential details are manipulated for the benefit of one Big Truth, which we are supposed to unspool upon retrospection (and also from the cognitive, preexisting understanding that this is a real f.u.c.king mountain and a real f.u.c.king boat, as no one who's ever watched Fitzcarraldo Fitzcarraldo was not aware of those facts before seeing it-very often, they're the was not aware of those facts before seeing it-very often, they're the only only things people know about this movie). In other words, this seemingly fanatical episode from things people know about this movie). In other words, this seemingly fanatical episode from Fitzcarraldo Fitzcarraldo is among the most normal things Herzog has ever done as a filmmaker. He has constructed truth through standard (albeit complicated) cinematic means. But this is less interesting than when Herzog delivers truth without construction. That happens less often, but when it does, it's way crazier. This is a man who once consumed his own leather shoe, simply because he promised Errol Morris that this is something he would do. is among the most normal things Herzog has ever done as a filmmaker. He has constructed truth through standard (albeit complicated) cinematic means. But this is less interesting than when Herzog delivers truth without construction. That happens less often, but when it does, it's way crazier. This is a man who once consumed his own leather shoe, simply because he promised Errol Morris that this is something he would do.2 Sometimes Herzog is literal in a manner so straightforward that almost no one pays attention. Sometimes Herzog is literal in a manner so straightforward that almost no one pays attention.

There's a moment like this in Grizzly Man, Grizzly Man, Herzog's fascinating 2005 doc.u.mentary about bear fanatic (and eventual bear entree) Timothy Treadwell. Mostly a.s.sembled from Treadwell's own video footage, Herzog's fascinating 2005 doc.u.mentary about bear fanatic (and eventual bear entree) Timothy Treadwell. Mostly a.s.sembled from Treadwell's own video footage, Grizzly Man Grizzly Man is the story of an idiot (Treadwell) who-upon being rejected for the role of "Woody" on is the story of an idiot (Treadwell) who-upon being rejected for the role of "Woody" on Cheers Cheers-decided to spend the next thirteen years of his life living with Alaskan grizzly bears, videotaping his experiences for a series of nature films. Treadwell views the bears as human peers and talks to them like children, constantly overstepping the (seemingly obvious) boundary between goofball human and 1,200-pound killing machine. Eventually, Treadwell and his girlfriend are killed and eaten by a bear. But along the way, Herzog quietly (and fairly) dissects the psychology of Treadwell; he spends a stretch of the doc.u.mentary showing how Treadwell would often reshoot scenes of himself in order to control his own perception. He also points out how Treadwell fundamentally lied about a core aspect of his public persona-his girlfriend would sometimes accompany him on these trips into bear country, but Treadwell always insisted (directly into the camera) that he was alone. In many ways, Grizzly Man Grizzly Man is about the very idea of truth. But that shifts when we get to a scene where Timothy discovers that a male grizzly has killed a few innocent bear cubs in order to have s.e.x with their mother. Treadwell is shattered by this event and decries how the world is confusing and painful. But then the camera cuts directly to the face of a bear and the image freezes. And as we look into the frozen, empty eyes of a bear, Herzog's voice-over says this: is about the very idea of truth. But that shifts when we get to a scene where Timothy discovers that a male grizzly has killed a few innocent bear cubs in order to have s.e.x with their mother. Treadwell is shattered by this event and decries how the world is confusing and painful. But then the camera cuts directly to the face of a bear and the image freezes. And as we look into the frozen, empty eyes of a bear, Herzog's voice-over says this: Here, I differ with Treadwell. He seemed to ignore the fact that in nature there are predators. I believe the common denominator of the universe is not harmony but chaos, hostility, and murder.

Because this p.r.o.nouncement is so dramatic (and-quite frankly-because Herzog's voice and accent are so G.o.dd.a.m.n funny), it always makes viewers laugh. It's impossible to watch the scene without laughing, especially since you're staring into the face of a motionless bear who seems to be emoting those same sentiments through mind bullets. It's not a moment most people remember from the film. Yet could there be a more unambiguous thesis for how Herzog views existence? There is no irony here. It is, in many ways, the core of his entire creative career. I can't rephrase his sentences with any greater clarity than what already exists on the page. But this is funny to people But this is funny to people. It makes us laugh, because it's disturbing to take literal thoughts literally.

"I am someone who takes everything very literally," Herzog has said.3 "I simply do not understand irony, a defect I have had since I was able to think independently." That defect, however, is more an issue for his audiences than it is for the director himself. Most of us have the opposite defect: We "I simply do not understand irony, a defect I have had since I was able to think independently." That defect, however, is more an issue for his audiences than it is for the director himself. Most of us have the opposite defect: We only only understand irony, even when it is not there to be understood. understand irony, even when it is not there to be understood.

3A "I can spend all day listing the mistakes the Democrats made both before and during Florida, but I don't care." This is political writer Eric Alterman, speaking into the camera in the doc.u.mentary "I can spend all day listing the mistakes the Democrats made both before and during Florida, but I don't care." This is political writer Eric Alterman, speaking into the camera in the doc.u.mentary An Unreasonable Man, An Unreasonable Man, a.n.a.lyzing the 2000 presidential election. "[Ralph] Nader professed to be standing for one thing when in fact he was deliberately causing another thing. The Democrats were just incompetent. Nader was dishonest . . . To me, he's a very deluded man. He's a psychologically troubled man." a.n.a.lyzing the 2000 presidential election. "[Ralph] Nader professed to be standing for one thing when in fact he was deliberately causing another thing. The Democrats were just incompetent. Nader was dishonest . . . To me, he's a very deluded man. He's a psychologically troubled man."

The reason Alterman hates Ralph Nader is obvious and well doc.u.mented: He feels that by running for the office of president and getting 2.7 percent of the vote, Nader cost the 2000 election for Al Gore and subjected the United States to the most reactionary presidential administration in recent history. Many Americans feel this way; had 10 percent of the 97,421 people who voted for Nader in Florida supported Gore by default, everything about this country would be (in some way) different. There is no mathematical way around this. Alterman's essential point is true-in practice, Nader's decision to run for the presidency was bad for America. But his perception of Nader as a person is completely wrong. To people like Alterman, Nader seems delusional and troubled and dishonest. But this is because people who follow politics closely cannot comprehend people who aren't partially lying. They are intellectually paralyzed by literal messages.

While running against Hillary Clinton in the race for the 2008 Democratic nomination, eventual U.S. president Barack Obama came under fire for his long-standing spiritual relationship with the Chicago Reverend Jeremiah Wright, a preacher who claimed the U.S. government created AIDS in order to destroy the black race. Wright had been the officiant at Obama's marriage and baptized Obama's children; when first pressed on the issue, Obama said he could no more disown Wright than he could disown his own grandmother.4 But the reverend refused to shut up; he kept making crazier and crazier statements. A few weeks later, Obama disowned him completely. This was seen as a totally rational, wholly acceptable move. I would have done the same thing. When Obama compared Wright to his grandmother, no one had really believed him; when he cut Wright loose, only the most partisan Republicans labeled him a hypocrite. What he did was normal, understandable, and nonliteral: It's what makes Obama a reasonable man and a (potentially) good president. We immediately recognize that his literal comparison of Wright to his grandmother is different than his actual feelings. Yet this is precisely the kind of unwritten dichotomy Ralph Nader would never accept. Nader might be the most stridently literal man who has ever gained traction in the modern political arena. Werner Herzog says he cannot understand irony, but at least he can create it for other people; Nader is a perpetual sincerity machine. His critics insist that he's a megalomaniac, and that's almost certainly true-but it's But the reverend refused to shut up; he kept making crazier and crazier statements. A few weeks later, Obama disowned him completely. This was seen as a totally rational, wholly acceptable move. I would have done the same thing. When Obama compared Wright to his grandmother, no one had really believed him; when he cut Wright loose, only the most partisan Republicans labeled him a hypocrite. What he did was normal, understandable, and nonliteral: It's what makes Obama a reasonable man and a (potentially) good president. We immediately recognize that his literal comparison of Wright to his grandmother is different than his actual feelings. Yet this is precisely the kind of unwritten dichotomy Ralph Nader would never accept. Nader might be the most stridently literal man who has ever gained traction in the modern political arena. Werner Herzog says he cannot understand irony, but at least he can create it for other people; Nader is a perpetual sincerity machine. His critics insist that he's a megalomaniac, and that's almost certainly true-but it's sincere sincere megalomania. His arrogance is not misplaced. He lives in an inflexible world of complete moral cert.i.tude. He authentically believes that all of his values are 100 percent correct. Granted, this is an oddly common perspective within partisan politics; it's always shocking how much blind confidence people absorb from party propaganda. But the difference is in how people present that cert.i.tude. When Obama megalomania. His arrogance is not misplaced. He lives in an inflexible world of complete moral cert.i.tude. He authentically believes that all of his values are 100 percent correct. Granted, this is an oddly common perspective within partisan politics; it's always shocking how much blind confidence people absorb from party propaganda. But the difference is in how people present that cert.i.tude. When Obama5 or Sarah Palin or Rachel Maddow or Glenn Beck speak, we take for granted that-at the very least-they are partially (and consciously) lying. They are asking us to view their sentiments through preexisting filters we have all inherited through media; we take the verbatim sentences, consider the person's larger motive, search for code and subtext in the specific words and phrases, and triangulate the true meaning. But Nader doesn't work like this. Nader speaks literally, and that makes him superfluous. or Sarah Palin or Rachel Maddow or Glenn Beck speak, we take for granted that-at the very least-they are partially (and consciously) lying. They are asking us to view their sentiments through preexisting filters we have all inherited through media; we take the verbatim sentences, consider the person's larger motive, search for code and subtext in the specific words and phrases, and triangulate the true meaning. But Nader doesn't work like this. Nader speaks literally, and that makes him superfluous.6 He delivers accusations in an unpackaged, unbendable manner: "The auto industry is killing people. Power has to be insecure to be responsive. Game six of the 2002 NBA Western Conference Finals was illegitimate." That type of talk is ant.i.thetical to the thinking of all political animals. This is why Eric Alterman hates Nader so much, even though they fundamentally agree on many, many points. Alterman cannot fathom that the motives a man gives for running for the presidency could be identical to whatever his true motives are. Nader's reasons for running in 2000 (and in 2004) were unvarnished extensions of what he claimed to represent. He was not psychologically troubled. He was literal, which is received by the public as the same thing. He delivers accusations in an unpackaged, unbendable manner: "The auto industry is killing people. Power has to be insecure to be responsive. Game six of the 2002 NBA Western Conference Finals was illegitimate." That type of talk is ant.i.thetical to the thinking of all political animals. This is why Eric Alterman hates Nader so much, even though they fundamentally agree on many, many points. Alterman cannot fathom that the motives a man gives for running for the presidency could be identical to whatever his true motives are. Nader's reasons for running in 2000 (and in 2004) were unvarnished extensions of what he claimed to represent. He was not psychologically troubled. He was literal, which is received by the public as the same thing.

2B Cinema verite Cinema verite literally translates as "cinema of truth." Herzog, of course, hates cinema verite, claiming it's "devoid of literally translates as "cinema of truth." Herzog, of course, hates cinema verite, claiming it's "devoid of verite verite." In 1999, he wrote a ten-point manifesto t.i.tled "The Minnesota Declaration," probably the only doc.u.ment in film history that attacks cinema verite techniques while complimenting Jesse Ventura. His essential point was that cinema verite provides "the accountant's truth" and that cinema verite auteurs are like tourists. Keeping this in mind, I think it would be very interesting to see a Herzog movie about an accountant on vacation.

Any film consumer recognizes cinema verite the moment they see it, even if they're unfamiliar with the term: It's the kind of naturalistic, shaky, provocative camera work that feels like orchestrated news footage. You often see it employed in exceptional rock doc.u.mentaries (Don't Look Back, Gimme Shelter), but also in fictional narratives dependent on the aura of reality-Cloverfield, The Blair Witch Project, the opening combat scenes from the opening combat scenes from Saving Private Ryan, Saving Private Ryan, most of the mumblecore movement, the 1971 dissident project most of the mumblecore movement, the 1971 dissident project Punishment Park Punishment Park, and both the U.S. and UK versions of The Office The Office.7 Whenever we watch cinema verite movies, we unconsciously think of them as more lifelike than conventional film, simply because they're made to look cheaper and more amateur than they are. This is why Herzog hates cinema verite: It's more realistic, but it's not remotely literal. It's the least-literal filmmaking there is. Whenever we watch cinema verite movies, we unconsciously think of them as more lifelike than conventional film, simply because they're made to look cheaper and more amateur than they are. This is why Herzog hates cinema verite: It's more realistic, but it's not remotely literal. It's the least-literal filmmaking there is.

I am a huge fan of the NBC program Friday Night Lights, Friday Night Lights, despite the fact that I don't like what it does to me. I don't like the way it manipulates my emotions. Here is a show about a high school football team in Texas, packaged as a melodramatic soap opera. While certain aspects of the program are legitimately well done by any standard (most notably the relationship between the head coach and his wife), much of the action involves implausible characters doing unbelievable things (showing up to football practice drunk; accidentally murdering people; winning or losing every game on the final play of the fourth quarter, etc.). But even when the on-screen action is ridiculous, it always has a despite the fact that I don't like what it does to me. I don't like the way it manipulates my emotions. Here is a show about a high school football team in Texas, packaged as a melodramatic soap opera. While certain aspects of the program are legitimately well done by any standard (most notably the relationship between the head coach and his wife), much of the action involves implausible characters doing unbelievable things (showing up to football practice drunk; accidentally murdering people; winning or losing every game on the final play of the fourth quarter, etc.). But even when the on-screen action is ridiculous, it always has a physical physical impact on me-the combination of the music and the imagery consistently makes me feel like I'm on the verge of tears. impact on me-the combination of the music and the imagery consistently makes me feel like I'm on the verge of tears. Friday Night Lights Friday Night Lights can make my stomach hurt, even when my mind says, "This is silly." So I wonder: How much of this reaction is simply a product of the show's relentless use of cinema verite style, fused with my own self-imposed confusion over what truth is actually supposed to look like? can make my stomach hurt, even when my mind says, "This is silly." So I wonder: How much of this reaction is simply a product of the show's relentless use of cinema verite style, fused with my own self-imposed confusion over what truth is actually supposed to look like?

I suspect almost all of it.

Maniacal Slovenian monster-brain Slavoj iek once made a perverse, semi-relevant point about the movie t.i.tanic t.i.tanic; he argued that people are so out of touch with their true feelings that they mentally construct fantasies they don't even want, simply to feel like they have control over their unknowable desires. "How is the catastrophe [depicted in t.i.tanic t.i.tanic] connected to the couple, the rich upper-cla.s.s girl and the poor lower-cla.s.s boy?" iek asked. "After making love, they go up on the deck and embrace again and then she tells him, 'I will stay with you and abandon my people.' At that moment the iceberg hits the ship. What's the point? I claim the true catastrophe would have been for them to stay together, because it wouldn't work and they would split. It's in order to save that impossible dream that the ship must sink."8 iek is essentially arguing that because we cannot understand what we want from ourselves and from other people, we construct fictional placeholders that help us feel secure within our emotional confusion. We a.s.semble and embrace false feelings in order to feel normal. In the same way, our inability to comprehend literal messages prompts us to pick arbitrary versions of media that become stand-ins for truth. iek is essentially arguing that because we cannot understand what we want from ourselves and from other people, we construct fictional placeholders that help us feel secure within our emotional confusion. We a.s.semble and embrace false feelings in order to feel normal. In the same way, our inability to comprehend literal messages prompts us to pick arbitrary versions of media that become stand-ins for truth.

The cinema verite on cinema verite on Friday Night Lights Friday Night Lights only works because I know what it is (and because I have pre-accepted what it signifies). I know its self-reflexive flaws are supposed to indicate that what I'm seeing is closer to reality, so I automatically make that jump with my consciousness. In other words, this entire style of filmmaking only exists to remind me that what I am watching is supposed to be life. And I'm used to this; I am used to things that are constructed solely to make me feel like I am experiencing something natural. State parks and zoos are like this. The personality of Michael Moore is like this. The small talk made between strangers, the noises people make during intercourse, and compliments given to small children are all like this. I don't know if I could enjoy a genuinely literal TV show about high school football, or if I could spend my life with a wholly literal person. only works because I know what it is (and because I have pre-accepted what it signifies). I know its self-reflexive flaws are supposed to indicate that what I'm seeing is closer to reality, so I automatically make that jump with my consciousness. In other words, this entire style of filmmaking only exists to remind me that what I am watching is supposed to be life. And I'm used to this; I am used to things that are constructed solely to make me feel like I am experiencing something natural. State parks and zoos are like this. The personality of Michael Moore is like this. The small talk made between strangers, the noises people make during intercourse, and compliments given to small children are all like this. I don't know if I could enjoy a genuinely literal TV show about high school football, or if I could spend my life with a wholly literal person.

4A There are many aspects about Ralph Nader that intrigue me, but none more than this: As far as anyone can tell, he's never had a single romantic relationship in his entire life. None. No ex-wife, no former girlfriends, no secret gay lover, no hookers, no one-night stands with savvy nineteen-year-olds who are hot to take down the Federal Trade Commission. You cannot even find a photograph of Nader that someone might misconstrue. There's just nothing there. And people have certainly tried to find this information. In fact, people have tried to There are many aspects about Ralph Nader that intrigue me, but none more than this: As far as anyone can tell, he's never had a single romantic relationship in his entire life. None. No ex-wife, no former girlfriends, no secret gay lover, no hookers, no one-night stands with savvy nineteen-year-olds who are hot to take down the Federal Trade Commission. You cannot even find a photograph of Nader that someone might misconstrue. There's just nothing there. And people have certainly tried to find this information. In fact, people have tried to make this make this happen: When he was fighting the auto industry in the 1960s, it's rumored that General Motors hired women to accost Nader in grocery stores and attempt to seduce him, all in the hope of discrediting his single-minded efforts to ensure that new cars didn't explode on impact. With the possible exception of Morrissey, I cannot think of a higher-profile figure so adamant about appearing as.e.xual. happen: When he was fighting the auto industry in the 1960s, it's rumored that General Motors hired women to accost Nader in grocery stores and attempt to seduce him, all in the hope of discrediting his single-minded efforts to ensure that new cars didn't explode on impact. With the possible exception of Morrissey, I cannot think of a higher-profile figure so adamant about appearing as.e.xual.

This makes sense.

It makes sense that Nader could not function inside a romantic relationship, as those are always nonliteral relationships. All romantic relationships are founded on the shared premise of love, a concept defined differently by all people. Conversations between couples are theatrical and symbolic; the first thing anyone realizes the moment they enter a serious relationship is that words (especially during fights) never represent their precise definitions. Nader would be paralyzed by the content of wedding vows-he would want to qualify everything. "In sickness and in health" would become "In sickness, with the possible exclusion of self-contained vegetative states, and in health, a.s.suming neither party has become superhuman or immortal." It would be a deeply wonkified ceremony, probably held in rural Oregon.

Rivers Cuomo is not as.e.xual, but he has had a lot of relationship problems (or at least he used to). I a.s.sume those problems were manifestations of his literalism. Love songs from Weezer usually paint Cuomo as a self-deprecating doofus, and they feel commercially smart because the main character seems like an idealized reflection of the bespectacled hipster nerds who buy his alb.u.ms. But if the Weezer consumer ends up being a reflection of Cuomo, it's purely an accident-he's usually just explaining himself in very specific ways. He does (or at least did) look like Buddy Holly. He did, at one point, grow tired of having s.e.x with people. His interest in Asian girls is not affected-those are the women who consistently arouse him. In the song "Across the Sea," Cuomo explains how he received a letter from a female fan in j.a.pan9 and became obsessed with the paradox of being loved by someone who was completely absent from his life (at the time, he was depressed and attending Harvard). He sings, "I've got your letter, you've got my song." He's having a one-to-one communication with this woman in a public setting, which is why everyone thinks he's so emo. But it's more than that. Cuomo is ignoring the basic principle we all a.s.sume is part of the creative process; he is not "creating" anything. If someone wants to a.n.a.lyze the nonsonic elements of "Across the Sea," they are not performing music criticism; they're psychologically profiling Cuomo in a totally clear-cut fashion. The only thing that can be deconstructed is the person himself. and became obsessed with the paradox of being loved by someone who was completely absent from his life (at the time, he was depressed and attending Harvard). He sings, "I've got your letter, you've got my song." He's having a one-to-one communication with this woman in a public setting, which is why everyone thinks he's so emo. But it's more than that. Cuomo is ignoring the basic principle we all a.s.sume is part of the creative process; he is not "creating" anything. If someone wants to a.n.a.lyze the nonsonic elements of "Across the Sea," they are not performing music criticism; they're psychologically profiling Cuomo in a totally clear-cut fashion. The only thing that can be deconstructed is the person himself.10 This is why Weezer songs are not taken seriously, or at least not as seriously as they deserve to be. People don't want to think about singers as humans; they want to think of them as ent.i.ties who create songs This is why Weezer songs are not taken seriously, or at least not as seriously as they deserve to be. People don't want to think about singers as humans; they want to think of them as ent.i.ties who create songs for for humans. Moreover, they want to decide how sincere the creator is supposed to be-and the only way to do that is to start with the premise that the message is not the message. It cannot be literal. If it's literal, the process is already over. humans. Moreover, they want to decide how sincere the creator is supposed to be-and the only way to do that is to start with the premise that the message is not the message. It cannot be literal. If it's literal, the process is already over.

5 "And make no mistake: irony tyrannizes us," wrote David Foster Wallace in 1993, long before this kind of problem had occurred to someone like me. "The reason why our pervasive cultural irony is at once so powerful and so unsatisfying is that an ironist is impossible to pin down. All U.S. irony is based on an implicit, "And make no mistake: irony tyrannizes us," wrote David Foster Wallace in 1993, long before this kind of problem had occurred to someone like me. "The reason why our pervasive cultural irony is at once so powerful and so unsatisfying is that an ironist is impossible to pin down. All U.S. irony is based on an implicit, I don't really mean what I'm saying I don't really mean what I'm saying. So what does irony as a cultural norm mean to say? That it's impossible to mean what you say? That maybe it's too bad it's impossible, but wake up and smell the coffee already? Most likely, I think, today's irony ends up saying: How totally ba.n.a.l of you to ask what I really mean How totally ba.n.a.l of you to ask what I really mean."

When I began writing this essay, Wallace was still alive. And because he was still alive (and because I wanted to write about the absence of literal messages instead of the proliferation of ironic ones, and because I knew I could never compete with the intellectual intensity of his work), it was my original intention to not mention him at all. But then he killed himself. In the wake of his suicide, it seems wrong to neglect referencing his views on what people mean when they say anything in public. Yet I suspect that the (very real) problem Wallace saw in '93 has evolved into something else entirely. It's not that we all collectively agree that asking someone what they really mean is ba.n.a.l; it's that we now a.s.sume that the real meaning of every statement is hidden by default. We a.s.sume that all all statements must be mild inversions of the truth, because it's too weird to imagine people who aren't casually lying, pretty much all the time. statements must be mild inversions of the truth, because it's too weird to imagine people who aren't casually lying, pretty much all the time.

Every time I publish a book, I get asked if what I wrote is actually how I feel. If I write a review about Chinese Democracy, Chinese Democracy, people will ask if I really like Axl Rose as much as I claim and if I'm being honest in the way that I describe liking his music. The same thing happens when I write about people will ask if I really like Axl Rose as much as I claim and if I'm being honest in the way that I describe liking his music. The same thing happens when I write about Saved by the Bell Saved by the Bell or ex-girlfriends in Minnesota or fictional characters with no ties to reality. The subject matter is irrelevant. My response to these questions is never the same. Sometimes I say, "Yes." Sometimes I say, "Sometimes." Occasionally I argue that the things I write are "thought experiments," or that I am only concerned with the technical practice of writing (with little care for the content), or that I am or ex-girlfriends in Minnesota or fictional characters with no ties to reality. The subject matter is irrelevant. My response to these questions is never the same. Sometimes I say, "Yes." Sometimes I say, "Sometimes." Occasionally I argue that the things I write are "thought experiments," or that I am only concerned with the technical practice of writing (with little care for the content), or that I am only only interested in forwarding my ideas (and artistically unattached to the manner in which they are presented). Now, all of these answers are partially true. But the deeper reality is that I'm interested in forwarding my ideas (and artistically unattached to the manner in which they are presented). Now, all of these answers are partially true. But the deeper reality is that I'm not not sure if what I do is real. I usually believe that I'm certain about how I feel, but that seems naive. How do we know how we feel? I'm likely much closer to iek's aforementioned description of sure if what I do is real. I usually believe that I'm certain about how I feel, but that seems naive. How do we know how we feel? I'm likely much closer to iek's aforementioned description of t.i.tanic t.i.tanic: There is almost certainly a constructed schism between (a) how I feel, and (b) how I think think I feel. There's probably a third level, too-how I I feel. There's probably a third level, too-how I want want to think I feel. Very often, I don't know what I think about something until I start writing about it. to think I feel. Very often, I don't know what I think about something until I start writing about it.

However, I do know this (or at least I think I do): When I am in the active, physical process of writing, I am writing literally.

It is always a literal, present-tense depiction of what is cognitively happening in my mind. Now, once a given sentence exists, that might change. Sometimes it changes just four seconds after I type it. But I still believe that sentence should be read in the literal context of its creation. I often wonder if we would all be better off if we looked at all idioms of art in a completely literal fashion, all the time. It would be confusing as h.e.l.l for the first twenty or so years, but I suspect the world would eventually make more sense than it does now. At least we could agree on whatever it is we're pretending to understand.

I am no longer afraid to believe what I read, so I will go first.