Author Archives: maxwell hillier

Patriot Act is a show performed by Indian American comedian Hasan Minhaj, in the same manner as the Daily Show and its contemporaries. In this regard, Patriot act is unique in its perspective: Hasan’s cultural background allows him to breach certain topics with greater depth or detail than Caucasian hosts can. It is with this knowledge that Hasan described the situation in Saudi Arabia regarding Jamal Khashoggi, combining current information of the journalist’s death with multiple decades of history.

Hasan deftly weaves two narratives in the episode: Saudi Arabia and its history with the U.S., and non-Asian perceptions of Indian tradition. To accurately elaborate on this, summarizing the episode is necessary. The show begins with a recap of the Khashoggi situation, Saudi Arabia’s holy states, the financial significance of the Saud family, and the U.S.’s relationship with the country. Regarding the last section, Hasan shows the U.S. Guidebook for training missions in Saudi Arabia, wherein the Saudi people are considered to be “Indigenous tribes with some later [having a] mixture of Negro blood from slaves imported from Africa.” His dissection of the guidebook stereotypes is his first handling of tropes in the episode, and prominently handles it in a relatively serious manner: he pretends he is talking to another person who believes the guidebook is not intentionally racist by defending its written date, intent, the usage of negro, etc. All of these perceptions are deftly countered by Hasan, who points out the recent updates made to the guidebook, and other contradictions. The response is a strong one that balances severity and comedy in equal measure: the racism present is dealt with seriousness, though the “other voice” has a comedically high pitch.

Following this the trope of a ‘monolithic Islam’ is analyzed as well. After noting MbS’ recent imprisonments and executions, Hasan states that “Saudi Arabia is only two percent of the entire Muslim population, but whenever Saudi does something wrong, muslims around the world have to live with the consequences. Right? ‘Hey, don’t chop my hand off, Saudi style.’” This paradoxical standard is discussed in a serious manner, which is befitting for the impact of the matter. Hasan often interjects small jokes to lighten segments, but this portion in particular is without reprieve, to great effect. Since this is arguably the most pressing issue when it comes to MbS, the most serious tone is only fitting. Hasan Minhaj’s take on the Khashoggi case is informative and entertaining, but benefits greatly from knowing its tone, and its effectiveness in tackling tropes.

For context, Peter Morin is a Tahltan Nation artist currently based in Victoria, BC. His art deals with indigenous identity and language. His 2011 work, “This Song is a Museum”, escapes the mold of western contemporary art in a key way: It depicts a non-visual art visually, while staying true to its roots as indigenous art.
The piece itself was prepared with the assistance of Coast Salish singer Hwieumten. The Vancouver Museum of Anthropology notes: “By using a drumstick covered in black paint, Hwieumten inscribed each of these five elk-skin drums with the act and therefore the memory – of singing.” While this process sounds random and haphazard, its intricacy lies in its cultural roots and purpose: to show the unbridled energy of indigenous music. The singing is what’s being conveyed, in the simplicity of black paint on white drums.

It demands the spectator’s attention: it isn’t a pretty painting, it is a manifestation of indigenous culture. The piece also circumvents the limitations of museums by operating in its own format, as explained by the Museum of Anthropology’s inscription: “The museum has a tendency to lose the singing. The voice connected to the objects becomes hard to reach. I wanted to figure out an indigenous way to document the song using indigenous materials. The drums are a record of his [Hwieumten’s] practice of Indigenous knowledge.” To get the most out of this “visual song”, the spectator must understand the roots of the piece itself: the collaboration between indigenous artists, and the meaning behind its construction (e.g. the initially puzzling splashes of black on the drum). Not to mention, using the drum as a canvas for indigenous expression may fly over the head of many viewers. Without said information, the piece may come across as abstract expressionism, or misunderstood in general. But with it, the art becomes transcendental in nature. To discuss this piece in the context of figurative repatriation, Morin has brought the medium of music, more specifically indigenous singing, to a digestible visual token. By expressing music – a universal medium – in indigenous terms to both native and foreign audiences, figurative repatriation is wholly expressed. Kramer’s vision of a mutual repatriation is realized to the fullest, without artistic compromise or the watering down of materials.

Being on the for side in Dean’s reading, I was thrust headfirst into total cynicism for social media causes, though I never had much stock in such movements to begin with. After participating in the debate, I have subjectively determined my position on the matter. At the risk of sounding like a contrarian, it was a total wash. To put it simply, social media can create sociopolitical change, but I still have never seen an instance where it creates a direct, positive change. Dean’s reading tended to favour both sides, as the against side displayed. I felt no strong way about the reading overall: yes, Dean’s readings were prophetic, but due to my cherry picking for points, I feel like my experience has been maligned by the bias of my argument. The opposing side made very salient points, but the subjectivity of the arguments made me question some of them. For instance: The Square was successful in its goals in the short-term, but as of this year, another dictator is squatting in Mubarak’s place. Is that change? This lies in the eye of the beholder, everyone’s answer will be different. This argument was one of the many expressed during the debate, and in truth, there is no easy answer.

The against side presented arguments that I didn’t see coming, in the sense that their arguments were well presented, authentic, and held considerable weight. Presenting rebuttals was troublesome, and the short length of the debate led me to regret my chosen points. As stated earlier, there’s no easy way to debate this topic: many scholars have pointed out the strengths and shortcomings of social media in the modern world, and the topic is heavily divided. While I still stand under the centrist banner of “It’s a wash”, I can easily see people buying into the power of social media for movements, political or otherwise.

Castells’ reading focuses on the Egyptian revolution, giving a frame of reference for the points on social media and its place in sociopolitical change. The focus is razor sharp, and encompasses the Arab Spring in a thorough manner. Dean’s is much more free form, taking examples in a liberal manner with variety. There’s no rigidity in structure. I believe using Dean’s points contributed to a much more ‘open’ discussion. That being said, the debate’s length went by quite quickly, from opening statement to closing. Overall, it was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.

The Momo challenge started in the summer of this year, and grew to feverish proportions in July and August. Feverish in the sense that videos of the topic were being spit out by the dozen on YouTube and gaining good traction, as can be seen from the photo below.

The Momo challenge is a successor to self-harm “challenges” like Blue Whale, wherein the goal is to drive the participants to self-harm, and eventually death. The Momo challenge differentiates itself in two distinct ways: regionally and visually. Blue Whale was situated in Russia and Europe, in terms of origin and where it was reported the most. The Momo challenge is more widespread, having been reported nearly worldwide and generally getting more coverage. Visually speaking, Blue Whale has nothing besides its title animal. The Momo Challenge has a visual marker in the form of its title character, which is actually a sculpture created by Link Factory, a Japanese special effects firm. Below is an Instagram post that gives a full view of the sculpture, as the body is usually obstructed in thumbnails.

This visual marker gives an edge over all the other harm “challenges”, as the creepy image of the sculpture’s face gives news outlets and youtubers a clear picture to use for articles and videos. The sculpture is based on Japanese folklore, and is meant to be a depiction of a malicious spirit. As such, the intimidating visage of the creature has done wonders for clickbait. In terms of social dynamics, the Momo challenge is a form of cyberbullying wherein the perpetrators pretend to be “Momo”, and the victims are those who are messaged. Allegedly, the challenge originated on WhatsApp, but any messaging platform would hold the same effect. This cyberbullying was a “flavor of the month”, videos and reports were dedicated to it during the summer, and the trend died off in September. That in itself is both disappointing and troubling. Cyberbullying is now glorified if it’s “dolled up” enough; if there’s a spooky story behind it, it can be publicized in this manner. Most media outlets luckily condemned it, but the opposite can be seen on YouTube, as evidenced by the first image. It’s being lifted up from an unacceptable act to something trendy and exciting, which is appalling enough. As disgusting as it is, this sort of change is desirable for the internet, as can be seen by the sheer popularity of it. It reflects the desires of many, and is simply another chapter in the history of the internet. Perhaps the next cyberbullying incident will follow in Momo’s footsteps, with a stage name and mask.

The Cloverfield Paradox is a movie that’s part of a popular movie franchise of the same name, and is a prime example of media stickiness. The movie wasn’t advertised at all until the day of its release, on February 4th of this year. The announcement occurred during the Super Bowl LII advertisements, with the real surprise being the release date: The movie would be made available to stream on Netflix immediately after the Super Bowl ended. Sure enough, the viewer count was high for the week, stretching to just under four million views. The movie was a certain success when it came to sheer view count, and attracted fair numbers. However, the movie became a subject of controversy when it was revealed that it was not originally meant to be part of the series, and the scenes that connected it to the franchise were added in post production. In essence, it was only a “Cloverfield” movie due to some stapled on footage. Leading back into stickiness, the production company depended on the single form of communication (the Super Bowl broadcast) to garner attention and interest. The consumer experience was carefully produced, and designed to give a unified view of the product at hand. While news of the movie spread throughout other platforms, the only direct effort by the film team was the single Super Bowl spot. If you view it in the context of spreadability and stickiness, it leans much heavier on the latter, because it did not need the former in any way. Getting a spot on the Super Bowl was all the production company needed to do to get clicks and views. If they had advertised it months before release or made regular trailers, the cracks in the film’s appearance would have become much clearer to general audiences, more so to hardcore fans. In this case, less proved to be much more. Without the total control of how the film was marketed, the film would have flopped. Even though it was panned critically, film quality was never the goal. Attention and views were, and that goal was passed with certainty.