A Story
A group of academics set out to make a map of their University campus.
The pragmatists immediately set about working their way through the process, trying different techniques. Being mostly near-sighted gentlemen, they came up with a final product that turned out to be nothing like the reality they set out to represent. This was defended as an instance of breaking free of outdated representational theories of truth and relying on what all could reasonably agree upon, even when the path to the Physics building on their map actually led to a construction site.
The feminists rejected the idea of a map outright as a vestige of a male-centered epistemology in which the male, white, bourgeois patriarch internalized his "objective" reality. They suggested that visitors to the school rely on an "ethics of care" in which they stopped and asked strangers for directions.
The deconstructionists first noted the conspicuous absence in maps of every and all geographical features, thus undermining the map's universal capacity as map as such. The map could also not be summoned to mind without the trace of its binary Other, the compass, always already being present. From there they discussed the compass' magnet as a sign of decentering subjectivistic disorientation, the unavoidable connections between maps and the iconography of Where's Waldo, and generally just giggled in a corner.
The Marxists protested that the map served as another material instance of the ideological superstructure of late capitalism, which conceals from us through its "spectacular" representation the labor expended by the working class which makes the very campus itself possible. Their meeting was cut short, however, when one Professor realized he had to collect his paycheck and another had promised her husband they would go buy $100 front-row seats to the U2 concert.
The multiculturalists declared the map a hegemonic intrusion of Western values onto a pluralistic cartographical world culture. One professor displayed an alternative means by tattooing maplike symbols onto her bare chest, another scattered goats' teeth to determine his next move through shamanistic interpretation, another consulted the flight paths of birds, and yet another ordered his communitarian harem of 14 wives to plot the land for him.
The poststructuralists gave a genealogical account of the map as a tool of reinforcing certain discourses of social power and placing the subject within a predetermined site of normativity, discipline, and rationalization. When pressed on what this means, they split into two camps, one chanting "discourse" and the other chanting "power" in a round reminiscent of "Row Your Boat."
The Straussians quickly drew a map but only circulated it amongst themselves. When it was finally intercepted by an outsider, it turned out to be a fairly conventional, even sloppy, picture, but the Straussians were quick to point out that it had to be interpreted esoterically by Classically trained philosophers. It was later discovered that when you held the map up to a special light a naked picture of Allan Bloom appeared on it.
The liberal humanists drew a fairly conventional map of the campus based on empirical research, aerial photographs, and existing documents. They even included fun "spots of interest" and edifying bits of trivia. They then drove their Volvos home to a delightful Thai meal from Trader Joe's, applauded themselves for noticing the political connections between "24" and the Bush administration, and listened to Miles Davis. They simultaneously masturbated to the New York Times editorial page the next morning.
The pragmatists immediately set about working their way through the process, trying different techniques. Being mostly near-sighted gentlemen, they came up with a final product that turned out to be nothing like the reality they set out to represent. This was defended as an instance of breaking free of outdated representational theories of truth and relying on what all could reasonably agree upon, even when the path to the Physics building on their map actually led to a construction site.
The feminists rejected the idea of a map outright as a vestige of a male-centered epistemology in which the male, white, bourgeois patriarch internalized his "objective" reality. They suggested that visitors to the school rely on an "ethics of care" in which they stopped and asked strangers for directions.
The deconstructionists first noted the conspicuous absence in maps of every and all geographical features, thus undermining the map's universal capacity as map as such. The map could also not be summoned to mind without the trace of its binary Other, the compass, always already being present. From there they discussed the compass' magnet as a sign of decentering subjectivistic disorientation, the unavoidable connections between maps and the iconography of Where's Waldo, and generally just giggled in a corner.
The Marxists protested that the map served as another material instance of the ideological superstructure of late capitalism, which conceals from us through its "spectacular" representation the labor expended by the working class which makes the very campus itself possible. Their meeting was cut short, however, when one Professor realized he had to collect his paycheck and another had promised her husband they would go buy $100 front-row seats to the U2 concert.
The multiculturalists declared the map a hegemonic intrusion of Western values onto a pluralistic cartographical world culture. One professor displayed an alternative means by tattooing maplike symbols onto her bare chest, another scattered goats' teeth to determine his next move through shamanistic interpretation, another consulted the flight paths of birds, and yet another ordered his communitarian harem of 14 wives to plot the land for him.
The poststructuralists gave a genealogical account of the map as a tool of reinforcing certain discourses of social power and placing the subject within a predetermined site of normativity, discipline, and rationalization. When pressed on what this means, they split into two camps, one chanting "discourse" and the other chanting "power" in a round reminiscent of "Row Your Boat."
The Straussians quickly drew a map but only circulated it amongst themselves. When it was finally intercepted by an outsider, it turned out to be a fairly conventional, even sloppy, picture, but the Straussians were quick to point out that it had to be interpreted esoterically by Classically trained philosophers. It was later discovered that when you held the map up to a special light a naked picture of Allan Bloom appeared on it.
The liberal humanists drew a fairly conventional map of the campus based on empirical research, aerial photographs, and existing documents. They even included fun "spots of interest" and edifying bits of trivia. They then drove their Volvos home to a delightful Thai meal from Trader Joe's, applauded themselves for noticing the political connections between "24" and the Bush administration, and listened to Miles Davis. They simultaneously masturbated to the New York Times editorial page the next morning.
1 Comments:
Quite well done, Scantron. I found the liberal humanists particularly amusing. I do wonder, though -- beneath the humor -- whether you are onto something. If our generation of academics and intellectuals will be characterized by anything, it will be our cynicism, or even nihilism. It's probably a good thing too, so long as we can can figure out productive ways of channeling our end-of-ideology characters.
But in all seriousness, at least none of us are Chinese cartographers, right?
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2006/01/0123_060123_chinese_map.html
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