This is an article in a philosophy magazine that I found via Wikipedia.This bro, Alan Kirby, essentially refers to the time before the 80's as a "golden age of intelligence, creativity, rebellion and authenticity." He thinks contemporary culture is "drivel." He also takes a huge shit all over Wikipedia, which is ironic considering that's where I found his article.
I think his construction of what he dubs the "pseudo-modern" and its relationship to the postmodern is problematic, particularly because the elements of postmodernism that he mentions (fetishization of authorial power, abdication of Absolute Knowledge in favor of subjectivity, questioning truth) necessarily gave way to so-called pseudomodernity. First of all, postmodernism called notions such as Truth, Beauty, Knowledge into question. Then, as Kirby notes, postmodernity fetishized the Author, not because he or she knew the truth, or had skills, but
just because. Essentially, the Author is a badass because he or she is in possession of the (creative) means of production--printing press, TV screen, etc.. Thus, wouldn't the necessary next step be the attempted "democratization" of these forms? Postmodernism sets up elites while simultaneously chipping away at structures of superiority. Questioning those elites, and setting ourselves up as "just as good" is inevitable. (Alternatively, reality TV must attempt a retreat to the idea of "real skills"--as evidenced by competition shows such as ANTM, Project Runway, and Top Chef, which reinforce pre-postmodern ideas of "real" ability at modeling, fashion, and cooking respectively. Considering the caliber of experts willing to participate in reality television, these standards cannot help but be somewhat reactionary.)
To put it another way, reality television as a postmodern spectacle would be unwatchable. Unless the authority over the "characters" is placed within the viewer's hands, reality TV becomes just another example of a meaninglessly selective social group, such as the Marriage announcements in the NY
Times, whom we as members of the social underclasses are forced to observe. Which, unless one is delusional, tends to make one feel insignificant. TV shows must therefore justify their selection of
who gets to be watched by making it clear that these fools trapped in a big house do not have the real power, even though their images are broadcast across the world. That real power belongs with us, the people/spectators, through our votes, in a supposedly democratic system. Of course, this comparison with democracy itself manages to reveal some troubling truths: "American Idol" potentially offers us the same amount as, if not more choice than, today's electoral college. Our political votes are marginal; we choose between a few candidates who have been essentially pre-selected by a party system founded on an inequitable economic order. Much was made of Mitt Romney's multi-millionaire status in the Republican primaries two years ago, but this status is not terribly anomalous--in fact, it would seem to be normal. How about the Kennedys? The Bushes? Theresa Heinz Kerry, the ketchup heiress? Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger, both weathy actors? This is just to name a few.
Our generation has trouble with insignificance. Indeed, everybody does. But we, specifically, were born into a culture (and a set of theorists--I'm looking at you, Baudrillard) that made us aware of our own economic and political disempowerment. "There's so much suffering/pollution/windshield wipers/homeless bros/Crocs/Doritos/mega malls/racism/prison-industrial complex/riding mowers, but too bad the world is so big and I am just 1 small bro." It makes sense, therefore, that as subjects of an economic order that is increasingly disempowering, we would seek solace elsewhere. Specifically, in a retreat to our own subjectivity, our own value systems, in which we are still imbued with power as viewer-creators, as raters, as cultural participants rather than economic subjects.
More on this later.