A Critical Intervention in Death Studies

The following is not exactly an obit for the humanities, but rather evidence that the humanities died long ago and now walk the earth, haggard and decaying, accompanied by the sound of the swarming buzz and hum of the undead. It's a call for papers for a conference on "Sex, Death, and Boredom"--in just that order, as one would expect from the undead. (First comes sex, then comes death, then comes boredom in the baby carriage.)

Sex, Death, and Boredom

This year’s one-day conference . . . asks presenters to engage the interconnections amongst sex, death, and boredom and to challenge conventional definitions of each.

Let us challenge the conventional definition of death, shall we? And who better to do so than those who read about it? We all know there's le petit mort, le grand mort, and well, just plain old Mort, who should tuck his shirt in and get a job, but what about l'apres mort? As you'll see below, the possibility of having seances to contact Uncle Mort and his hoary brethren is not out of the question. We're neither bio- nor andro-centric here; we'll even reach out to your long lost Scruffy, if you think she's got something to say ... and you're willing to translate the yowls.

Due to the importance we place on the thorough interrogation of the topics and the exchange of ideas that can take place amongst scholars of different disciplines in such a venue, we have decided to devote a large portion of every session to discussion. Consequently, each panel will consist of three, possibly four short ten-minute presentations followed by a twenty or thirty minute discussion amongst panelists, conference attendees, and a moderator.

What does the phrase "thorough interrogation" connote? Close your eyes and tell me what you see. Is it three people who've never met, possibly from different disciplines, reading papers they've just written on subjects drawn together under a large, vague and vaguely clever heading: Porno and Bordeaux--Middlebrow Eroticism and Economies of Inebriation. Followed by "discussion" among the huddled masses. If you're feeling bored by it all or horny as a devil, it's all good; there's nothing better for steaming up the glasses than some red hot thorough interrogation.

It is our hope that these extended discussions will keep the sessions lively while also developing, challenging, and even altering the ideas relayed in the presentations.

This sentence was driven to the landfill and emptied of all meaning prior to being included in this call for papers. Where to begin? Where to end--to end it all, oh cruel world that doth vex me so? Are ideas "relayed"? At this conference, perhaps so--like a baton, perhaps, or the proverbial pipe. The slutty ones will, of course, be re-layed, once more with feeling.

So, there you are, all ready with your ten-minute disquisition, critically intervening in death studies, and dang it all if your definition of the conventional meaning of death doesn't get "developed, challenged, nay even altered!" (ne plus ultra-ed) by the ensuing extended discussion. Are you lighting up a smoke, staring dreamily at the ceiling or do you feel you've been boned by the big dog? Does all this developing, challenging, and altering reroute your critical intervention back into the quotidian traffic jam of life?

Our aim in structuring the sessions in such a way is to foster not only the exchange of knowledge but also the very creation of knowledge throughout the conference.

But wait, we don't have to wonder; we will be present at "the very creation of knowledge."

Are you, like me, beginning to feel that the promise of this little get-together is being slightly oversold? Now, don't get me wrong, I'm as interested in sex and death and, well probably, maybe, that's a tough one, boredom as the next person, but, like the next person, all I have to do is turn on the tv or jump out on the web to get my daily fill of each. Should I be relieved to see that the very creation of knowledge at this conference will cover "Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation"? I suppose it's possible that some are aroused by strangling on their own bile. Possible, but does it actually warrant attention? Love and Vomit: Tales from the Crypto-Archivist.

In addition to traditional academic papers, the committee encourages creative literary work, performance art, and multi-media presentations that in some way address the topic. Pre-formed panels will be accepted for review but are not necessary for submission. We are particularly interested in provocative work that will inspire discussion.

One can be forgiven for wondering what's hiding in that portmanteau--"performance art." Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation: The Opera, no doubt. (Bring your raincoat.) I weep, I feel faint. I can't go on. I must go on.

Possible topics may include:

• Pornography and Boredom
• Boredom and Death
• Necrophilia
• Cultural Constructions of Boredom
• Manifestations of Boredom in Certain Periods in History
• Chapbook Culture and Elicit Material
• Grave Robbing
• Catholic Universities and Sex
• Voyeurism, Participation, and Performance
• Power and Sado-Masochistic Practices
• Boredom and Technology in the 21st Century
• Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation
• Boredom and Anxiety
• Photographs of the Dead
• Séances
• Academia and Boredom

7,000 families a day reach the end of their unemployment benefits. The world powers are meeting shortly in Copenhagen to try, once again, to contend with global warming. This month was the deadliest month for US Soldiers in Afghanistan since the beginning of the conflict. Booorrrrinnnng.

The deadline for submissions is December 12, 2009.

Please send 300-word abstracts of academic papers to sexdeathandboredom@gmail.com.
Word documents only, please.

On Balloon Boy and the RU Game Plan

I know, you're thinking, what hair-brained connection are you going to propose next? But, bear with me while I trace the arc of the boyless balloon sailing over the open plain and a fiscal plan that rounded out the oval of the RU football stadium, complete with the biggest hi-def scoreboard, per seating capacity, in any college stadium.

I'll admit that I wasn't there for the whole balloon boy saga. I caught the first feed about it while I was changing planes and by the time I landed it was already into the third act and the unschooled mistook the change of scenery as a signal to collect their things and head for the door. I looked for a wonderfully succinct summary of the drama to this point on Ken's site, but now for the life of me can't find it and so, with apologies to the unidentified consolidator, I offer my reprised version: remember what it was like when Balloon Boy took off and we are all like "Go, Balloon Boy, Go!" and then the ballon crashed and we were like, "Oh no! Don't die Balloon Boy!" and then he shows up in the attic and we were like, "Balloon Boy, what an asshole!"

The modern day news cycle. All that drama packed into the forty minutes I happened to be out of the news flow between Chicago and Springfield. I referenced this the next day in my talk at UIS, only to learn, between talks, that Act 4 featured multiple scenes of vomiting and the unraveling of even the relief of learning that the greatest danger Balloon Boy faced was being in a family that had been featured on Wife Swap, a reality TV show that began as a backroom joke and then became another footnote illustrating Mencken's observation that "nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public."

Act Five? The great reversal. The story's never been about Balloon Boy at all. He's just a hand puppet in his father's nefarious shadow play--a token in the gambit to get the brass ring of the 21st century: Your own reality TV show. (At one point Reality TV would have been an oxymoron; that moment has passed.) So, in the denouement, father and re-swapped wife are charged with a series of felonies, Balloon Boy returns to the cardboard box in the attic, and the stage lights go black.

The RU Game Plan has cut a similar arc. First act, November 10, 2006. Fans storm the field as the Knights stun #3 Louisville and the nation has its favorite sports narrative: the Cinderella Story. After sweeping out the chimney for more than a century, the lowly Knights rise up and are poised, if the chips fall just right, to play for the national championship. Cincinnati ends the string of 9 straight victories, but when RU faces off against West Virginia at 10-1, no one is in a position to argue with those who said put all the chips on athletics and let the wheel spin. The WV game went into triple overtime, with RU on the losing end of what would be its last game of real significance, perhaps forever. If the glass shoe don't fit, you must acquit.

That season ended in the Texas Bowl, where RU paid the Big East 500K to play Kansas State, who paid the Big 12 $750K, to be in the bowl game. RU won, but this is a Cinderella Story, which is just that--a fairy tale, something to retain the interest of children.

Post-season, there's a flurry of interest in Coach Schiano, the mastermind of this amazing season, who took the hapless Knights to within 3-yards of being in a Bowl Championship Game. RU and Corzine can't bear the thought of Coach Schiano and his "keep on chopping" mantra leaving, so he gets: property on protected university land; an interest-free loan with the debt forgiven over time for each year he stays; the commitment to complete the oval in the RU stadium, which comes in at $110M; the promise from the governor to raise the money to build the stadium; and, eventually it is learned, both an over the table and an under the table salary increase. This is when people are thinking, stay in the attic Schiano, stay in the attic.

The 2007 season was a bit of a let down, "a rebuilding season," ending in the International Bowl (really, American football is international?). RU, with a losing record in the Big East, faced off against Ball State and won apparently.

The 2008 season was no more encouraging, another "rebuilding season," this one ending in the papajohns.com bowl. RU came back from a halftime deficit to defeat NC State somewhere in Alabama. Let the pizzas fly.

In the interim, all the predictable scandals and double-dealings. The economy goes off a cliff; Corzine discovers that fundraising for RU violates NJ's code of ethics; there are cost overruns, closed board meetings, anonymous gifts, and most entertainingly, the rapid deployment of shrubbery for the season opener, with full grown trees stabbed into the ground, hanging vines sprayed out of a water cannon, individual blades of grass painted about the new stadium entryway. It's a beauty, that 110M addition. I leave it to my many mathematically inclined buds to work it out: say it increased capacity by 10K; say 7 home games (though we'll be giving one of those up, now that we've signed to play in the new Yankees stadium). Say folks sit in those seats for 5 hrs/game, for a total of 35 hours a year of "paid" usage time. (They've been giving tickets away to fill the end zone, so as to maintain the overall commitment to the spirit of Potemkin Village.) How much would fans in those seats have to pay, per hour, to retire this debt in 30 years?

I'm sure the answer is a reasonable figure.

Now this may seem like the old saw about big time athletics and higher education, but it's really about the appeal of getting on TV. All those red jerseys, the fist pumping face painters, the beer pong playing families tail gaiting outside the park, the featured sequence on The Apprentice where teams had to find ways to sell more meat outside the stadium (the glory of those food eating contests could only be surpassed by the Man vs Food event at the Grease Trucks this past week); to be part of the big heaving mass, to be lost in the Scarlet sea, to grovel at Greg's feet--what true blooded Rutgerian wouldn't want to go along for the ride?

My suggestion is this: why not propose a reality show about the Coach? Follow him around in his helicopter, experience the agony he faces cashing his salary checks, watch him scream on the sidelines as his team slices through this team and that. Since it looks like Balloon Boy's dad's reality show is now in the dump, I'm sure there's time on the schedule. It's a little thing I call win-win. Schiano gets the exposure; RU gets the revenue; and we could well position ourselves to become the first university that guarantees all new admits a walk on role in "This is Your University on Crack."

Will Wright on Play

Wright, creator of the Sims, talks to CHE about play and motivation versus gaming and education.