The Wisdom of the Illiterati


	EMP The EMP Conference wasn't as bad as I feared it would be, but I wouldn't say that it was as good as it might have been, either. Attendance was higher, according to the organizers--500 registrants as opposed to 350 last year--but what those new registrants added to the conference is hard to say. I suspect many of them came from academia rather than journalism, as the academic weight fell heavily on the conference this year. Many of the presentations sounded more like dissertations fueled by a need to publish rather than any true fondness for or interest in the subject, which resulted, on at least one occasion (which I won't be impolite enough to name), in glaring errors of fact and understanding. Though I was happy to find that those presentations that touched on the trickiest subjects of race and identity resisted the urge to stridency and preachiness, academic distance didn't exactly make them riveting, either. There was a sense, in fact, that almost everybody, both among the presenters and in the audience, was trying to avoid confrontation as much as possible. The one exception was Joshua Clover, who, on his panel, kept encouraging people to engage in some healthy controversy. He was overjoyed when someone badmouthed the Clash's reggae covers, but no one else in the audience rose to the bait. This hesitancy to embrace the conference's theme in real life didn't seem to be based on a fear of things getting out of hand so much as a sense of politeness. Nobody was going to back off of their positions, but no one was being rude or insulting about it, either. Maybe it's the Obama effect. If his example can keep a bunch of pop music geeks from raising their voices while discussing some of the most divisive issues they ever deal with, he must be even more influential than I thought. Then again, after years of wrangling, maybe it's just a cooling zeitgeist applying its mighty hand. The oddest moment to result from this aura of polite conciliation came at the end of the panel on "Racial Ambivalence", which focused largely on various forms of "minstrelsy", from Al Jolson (the real thing) to Amy Winehouse (not so sure about that). At the end of the question and answer period, as a kind of signing off, the moderator, Kandia Crazy Horse, said something along the lines of: "Of course, if everything were equal, none of this would matter." I think I understand what she meant, but it begs the question: if we lived in a completely equal society, how would that change her take on minstrelsy? Would she consider it nothing more than a blip in racial history? Would she like the music more, or be more forgiving of those who aped black styles to further their careers? Or would she even care about it at all, despite its obvious historical importance--and if everything was equal, would that importance disappear? Whatever the truth may be, why this odd concession? Could it be she just loves the music, despite her reservations? And am I out of line to doubt it in the first place? So, despite the urging of the overall theme of conflict, a fairly low key, non-confrontational weekend (especially compared to last year). Maybe a touch too subdued and lacking in adventure, but it's always nice to see so many people in love with the same subject in the same building (in the case of the conference itself), or even the same small, hot room (in the case of Michaelangelo's party). I even got a chance to tell Carl Wilson how great his Celine Dion book is. Not as cool as Obama reading it, I suppose, but he seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. \| [Archives] Search entries:		top ten 1966 top ten OTHER OCCASIONAL RAMBLINGS Hail Blogoslavia! ~~100~~ 45 or so things about JSM The Saga of the Lone Biscuit OTHER BLOGS Blogroll Me

EMP

The EMP Conference wasn't as bad as I feared it would be, but I wouldn't say that it was as good as it might have been, either. Attendance was higher, according to the organizers--500 registrants as opposed to 350 last year--but what those new registrants added to the conference is hard to say. I suspect many of them came from academia rather than journalism, as the academic weight fell heavily on the conference this year. Many of the presentations sounded more like dissertations fueled by a need to publish rather than any true fondness for or interest in the subject, which resulted, on at least one occasion (which I won't be impolite enough to name), in glaring errors of fact and understanding.

Though I was happy to find that those presentations that touched on the trickiest subjects of race and identity resisted the urge to stridency and preachiness, academic distance didn't exactly make them riveting, either. There was a sense, in fact, that almost everybody, both among the presenters and in the audience, was trying to avoid confrontation as much as possible. The one exception was Joshua Clover, who, on his panel, kept encouraging people to engage in some healthy controversy. He was overjoyed when someone badmouthed the Clash's reggae covers, but no one else in the audience rose to the bait.

This hesitancy to embrace the conference's theme in real life didn't seem to be based on a fear of things getting out of hand so much as a sense of politeness. Nobody was going to back off of their positions, but no one was being rude or insulting about it, either. Maybe it's the Obama effect. If his example can keep a bunch of pop music geeks from raising their voices while discussing some of the most divisive issues they ever deal with, he must be even more influential than I thought. Then again, after years of wrangling, maybe it's just a cooling zeitgeist applying its mighty hand.

The oddest moment to result from this aura of polite conciliation came at the end of the panel on "Racial Ambivalence", which focused largely on various forms of "minstrelsy", from Al Jolson (the real thing) to Amy Winehouse (not so sure about that). At the end of the question and answer period, as a kind of signing off, the moderator, Kandia Crazy Horse, said something along the lines of: "Of course, if everything were equal, none of this would matter." I think I understand what she meant, but it begs the question: if we lived in a completely equal society, how would that change her take on minstrelsy? Would she consider it nothing more than a blip in racial history? Would she like the music more, or be more forgiving of those who aped black styles to further their careers? Or would she even care about it at all, despite its obvious historical importance--and if everything was equal, would that importance disappear? Whatever the truth may be, why this odd concession? Could it be she just loves the music, despite her reservations? And am I out of line to doubt it in the first place?

So, despite the urging of the overall theme of conflict, a fairly low key, non-confrontational weekend (especially compared to last year). Maybe a touch too subdued and lacking in adventure, but it's always nice to see so many people in love with the same subject in the same building (in the case of the conference itself), or even the same small, hot room (in the case of Michaelangelo's party). I even got a chance to tell Carl Wilson how great his Celine Dion book is. Not as cool as Obama reading it, I suppose, but he seemed to appreciate it nonetheless.