The promise of self-annihilation

Self-help for spectators and aspiring influencers

I never imagined I’d feel humorous enough to write satire when I started The Gift. I’m generally quite sincere.

But, as January persists in bringing everyone watching a healthy dose of dread, I’m searching for answers. And I stopped by Archie McPhee’s for a piñata and got a couple of other things, too.

How are you feeling?

Doing that breath work?

Just in case you need help, Archie’s sells affordable synthetic signs—should dread lose the ‘r.’

…

Honestly, what I love most about the Disappointed Sigh is that—forgive me for explaining a joke, I know I must sound like I’m in didactic drag—the point of this little machine is not that the machine is good at sighing. It’s obviously ridiculous. The sighs are not realistic or agential.

The point is to make you laugh. Right? Did you?

End of the world sigh—I mean—

—You’re with me, right?

…

So explaining a joke makes me feel like I’m in drag. I’m not afraid to be ambiguous. The point I want to make about the machine-as-a-joke is it’s externalizing emotional distress, sighs can bring relief (“a sigh of relief”) but here it indexes your experience of distress as a spectator.

As a joke, the machine makes visible distress with imitation.

Then, it’s worth acknowledging that an effect of all the machines and technologies and words isn’t just that they’re innately shiny or good or perfect or accurate at indexing or representing the world—but that they are things that do something to us. It’s actually about us. Me. You.

…

That brings me to another point I want to make. I am feeling a little mouthy. True story. I am the joke.

..

I’m a self-absorbed professional and I want to be in the public eye[1] using social media[2] because I am deeply concerned about the dangers of January in North America.

I am committed to authenticity and in our urgent times, it’s more important than ever to try and disrupt whilst engaging in self-care in a platform economy—even when that very act encourages self-annihilation and tech servitude.

I believe it’s possible!

So I made a choice.

Self-improvement that renders me nearly unrecognizable!

I did waffle on this, not only because beauty culture has deeply problematic histories and effects (it’s oppressively white, patriarchal, and ageist, etc.) but fillers, micro-needling, Botox, etc, are expensive and dangerous!

Ultimately, I spent the money because I recognize that knowledge of these structural inheritances hasn’t changed me. Knowledge isn’t (self-)power! I am still a vain people-pleaser who enjoys feeling pretty.

Because I care for my imagined audience of likeminded people who identify with femininity and are gripped by the urge to be popular, I’m here to tell you I’ve chosen to uplift my face to preserve my youth, feel good, and obfuscate cruel facial recognition software!

I believe that medicalized beauty culture and digital performance can disrupt the violence of crony fascism and the tyranny of big tech. I do.

Do you? Do you like my nose job? Please like and share this post so we can band together and resist!

Yours,

Monika

The Gift

Notes

[1] It doesn’t faze me that only approximately .0004267% of active users who share content on social media gain fame and fortune. If you must know, that number does include Mr Beast, photogenic AI-generated bots operated by bad actors, innocent sock puppets, and state-sponsored mercenary cyber spies—but not people who were already famous. The percentage for virility and infamy is slightly higher.

In all seriousness, this statistic is based on and courtesy of Ethan Zuckerman’s talk “The Quotidian Web: What We Might Learn From Studying the Long Tail of Online Video” which I had the pleasure of hearing last week at UW, co-hosted by DUB and the Center for an Informed Public, both which are affiliated with the Society + Technology at UW initiative that I direct (humblebrag?); and the careful, nuanced work of UW Bothell’s media studies and cultural theorist Lauren Berliner, who has shared early research with me on ‘digital obscura,’ or, the many, many media artifacts that do not or just barely circulate.

So many things that come to nothing. Should they ever? Visibility is a trap, I know that—hence the nose job. Anyway, I’m waiting for her book.

[2] Dear readers who follow me on social media, forgive the duplicate content. Dear new subscribers, welcome to The Gift! Thank you all for reading.