How does one achieve satori? The emptiness of meaning that allows for a profound experience to take place. It is said by the “masters” that a steady dose of concentration on seemingly mundane yet instrumental exercises that involve mind-body-spirit to work in an integrative manner will pave the way for satori to occur. And when it does, one knows it. When we experience oneness, which is always there and we are simply not aware of it with regularity, we reach emptiness. Different ways of life can bring this about. For me it is mostly Karate that gives me the training to be able to arrive at satori moments. In other words, Karate helps me be connected in my intellectual activities, and leisure. Karate brings balance and emptiness–satori.

To facilitate social justice we need an ethics of solidarity. On that account, Richard Rorty argues that the process of coming to see other human beings as “one of us” rather than as “them” is a matter of detailed description of what unfamiliar people are like and of redescription of what unfamiliar people are like. Who is responsible for this redescription? Rorty answered, “This is a task not for theory but for genres such as ethnography, the journalist’s report, the comic book, the docudrama [(e.g., cinema and TV)], and, especially, the novel.” As often is the case with such complex conditions, the reality of everyday life and its ethics do not fall in either one camp or the other. The either/or approach never works. Considering the above arguments, perspectives, and your knowledge of other schools of thought (see secondary writings of Kellner, Feenberg, Sandel, Tester, et al.), it is the task of the public intellectuals to offer (in second order) analysis and position of the role of new media in relation to social justice.

Let me start my reflections by a quote from a respected colleague, Thomas Schatz,

“In a global media culture unified by rituals of entertainment and patterns of consumption, those who cannot afford to consume are likely to be factored out of the cultural and political equation. And those social and political issues which cannot be rendered in sufficiently “entertaining” terms are likely to be either ignored or regulated to the far reaches of the 500-channel universe.” (See p. 101 of Conglomerates and the Media edited by the tireless Erik Barnouw, ET AL., The New Press, NY  1997)

 Who is the boss?

Who owns the media may be controlling the message. And he who owns the media, and, in turn, its content, brings us a worldview—one could argue. Let us utilize the agenda-setting theory as a framework to understand this a bit deeper. Today, a handful of composite firms happen to own all of corporate media. Moreover, corporatism seems to be the dominant ideology here and in much of the rest of the planet, thanks to Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, Margaret Thatcher, Milton Friedman, et. Al., IMF, World Bank, and the quad (i.e., USA, Japan, Canada, and the EU) along with China, India and Brazil, ushering in and implementing the project of Globalization under the ideological umbrella of neoliberalism (i.e., free-market fundamentalism aka, corporatism).

Let us expand the boundaries of the agenda-setting theory a bit.

1. The corporate media set the agenda; telling us what to think about
2. The corporate media teach us that we NEED to read and evaluate the different items on the agenda
3. Audiences pay close attention to the topics on the agenda, because these are stressed around the clock by the corporate media via TV, Radio, Newspapers, and the Internet
4. The corporate media also provide pundits, “experts,” and other talking heads to give us various “informed and educated” analyses of topics. In turn, they teach us a kind of evaluative language with its own set of easy to digest lexicon
5. The pedagogy of corporate media is effective, as they are aware of the effectiveness of emotion-provoking images and repetition of easy to digest talking points

So, not only do they set the agenda, but they seem to manage to make many of us into automatons who will evaluate the topics in same or similar terms as they do. In other words, monkey see, monkey do!

We seem to be chained in the proverbial Platonic cave set up by what media critic Thomas Frank calls “the culture trust” (i.e., conglomerate owners of corporate media) and their agents of implementation. The conglomeration juggernaut will—and does—censor their news vehicles, watering down political issues and so on.

NOW, let’s shift into second and third order thinking a bit. I want to get help from Habermas.

Long time ago (as far back as the late 60s, early 70s) Habermas started to believe in the transformative power of undistorted communication. He thinks that communicative action is central to political action and paradigm shifts. He is indeed on to something with his theories.

Following Habermas’ logic, we must focus on linguistics of media. If we have a deep understanding of media language and can attain critical media literacy, then I argue, we can increase our rational communicative competence. Societies make moral mistakes with regularity. For those of us who are committed to the ideas and actions toward social justice there is a vital need of higher moral development so as not to make too many moral mistakes.

This kind of project requires solid collective consciousness. Habermas issues a strong caveat regarding what he calls cultural impoverishment.   How do the corporate media deliberately generate cultural impoverishment? Through programming of sophisticated discourses that are designed to SUPPRESS critical discourses produced by engaged citizens and those in the alternative media (e.g., Free Speech Radio/TV, Link TV, and Free Press)–and to some extent public media (e.g., BBC, PBS, and NPR). This is how ideology operates, after all. These corporate media discourses generate a kind of everyday communication with people, yielding what Habermas calls fragmented consciousness.

This fragmented consciousness is severely handicapped when it comes to understanding the world in any meaningful and critical way. It is indeed difficult to escape the ways of the media, as it is connected to the ways of technological advancement congruent with capitalist ideology.  Take the case of the cell phone, for example. Most people use their cell phones to get the news, set up appointments, play video games, browse the Internet, and so on…and they might make a few phone calls too. In a corporatist paradigm there exists a top-down management that teleologically (with a purpose) looks to shape people into “functionally rational” (another Habermasian term) workers and consumers while at once culturally impoverished. Think of the professional corporate lawyer who is extremely competent in his or her job but is incapable of reading critically the various Disney films, seeing them as merely benign entertainment.

In The Theory of Communicative Action, Habermas writes,

“We today have a “fragmented consciousness” that blocks enlightenment by the mechanism of reification. It is only with this that the conditions for a colonization of the lifeworld are met. When stripped of their ideological veils, the imperatives of autonomous subsystems make their way into the lifeworld from the outside—like colonial masters coming into tribal society—and force a process of assimilation upon it.” (TCA 2 355)       

Do money and power interfere with people’s ability to conduct a form of communicative action predicated on reason? Do corporate media programs “explain” to us what happens, how things happen, why they happen, and in turn, justifying the status quo (i.e., corporatism is natural and ideal)?  It behooves us to remember that ideology as mediated through culture industry is systematic and seems to have a comprehensive inventory of ideas and narratives, explaining socio-political lifeworld. They give us the “reality” they want us to believe in. And once internalized, do we demand this “reality” and nothing else?

It is generally accepted in most Zen schools that in order to go beyond the emptiness of human-made concepts and theoretical musings to experience “reality,” one has to go through consistent meditative practices. This is of course the middle way (the way of the Zen). But this statement begs a philosophical question. And that is, “What constitutes ‘consistent meditation’?”

Many people around the globe are familiar with the image of a Zen practitioner sitting quietly for hours and ridding him or herself from anxieties, convoluted thoughts, and obsessions about desire and material wants. This is known as one technique to help one empty his or her mind. But what about the following activities:

• walking for hours in a forest
• Biking in the mountains or streets of Manhattan
• Washing methodically one’s dishes in the kitchen for an hour or two
• Lifting weights for an hour or two in a gym
• Performing methodically martial arts kata (i.e., form) for an hour or two
• Quietly watching the waves at an ocean beach

Are the above activities not meditative?  I contend they are and can be just as effective as meditation in its technically classical form at a Zen temple.

What can we achieve with the above? That is an irrelevant question, a Zen practitioner might say. To achieve? Zazen is not interested in achieving. What Zazen is for is to reveal the destination we have already arrived at. The past does not cause the future, because there is no future. The ultimate is found in the ordinary and we are all dependent on each other without depending on one another. Is the ultimate part of the ordinary? Indeed, the ultimate cannot be separated from the everyday life. The Daoist teaching along with Zen philosophy teach us that when properly seen, the supreme reality, the one Immanuel Kant called the unreachable can in fact be experienced. That we may call “enlightenment.” And I argue that certain martial arts masters and mystics may have actually experienced this true reality. Did the Buddha?

“What is characteristic of disciplinary technologies is their capacity simultaneously to normalize and hierarchize, to homogenize and differentiate. This paradox is explained by the control which discipline asserts over difference. Because norms are carefully established and maintained, deviation can be measured on a scale. The goal of the professional in a discipline is to move up this scale by differing only in the appropriate ways.”      

Giroux teaches the teachers that a “discipline” limits discourse. Needless to say, to go against the normative prescriptions of disciplinary pedagogy is to risk punishment and marginalization. But if we are to follow Socrates example, an educator has a moral obligation to take these risks, as Giroux has taken throughout his academic career, and as all authentic critical educators take in the classroom, in the halls of the academy, and in their books and articles. To do this, one has to practice interdisciplinarity.

There is one caveat here, and that is the danger of interdisciplinary movements working within the confines of the academy and falling back on the logic of reductive/disjunctive disciplinary work and generating new disciplines out of their attempts. We have seen this happen with some cultural studies programs in the US academy. Cultural studies, receiving its spirit from figures like Raymound Williams and Stuart Hall and the kind of pedagogy they produced in Birmingham Center for Contemporary Cultural Studies, initially allowed heretic professors to challenge the academy’s hierarchy by infusing anthropology, sociology, psychology, philosophy, literary theory, linguistics, art history, political science, and intertextual media studies to look at cultural phenomena and offer new theories about culture. While we have had some exciting and path breaking scholarship and teaching done under the guise of cultural studies, increasingly, we are seeing a hierarchal model applied to these programs at the universities. This is in part due to the nature of institutional education. Giroux reminds us to foster a pedagogy that counters the disciplinary juggernaut of the academy and to politicize cultural studies. To this end he urges educators to practice toward what he calls, in spirit of Freire, “conception of human praxis.”

There is a fallacious claim made by many a corporate TV journalist that he or she is in the business of seeking the truth to the best of his or her ability. Moreover, we are told that after careful fact checking and deliberation with his or her colleagues, this “best version of truth” is presented objectively to a public eager to know what is happening in the world. It is fallacious because it is simply not true. In the second decade of the 21^st century, corporate TV journalism and by extension much of the rest of the field has become what Chris Hedges once wrote, in his very readable Empire of Illusion, “a farce.” Corporatism is not interested in fostering enlightening citizenry. Corporatism is only interested in transforming the citizen into a docile consumer. In the US the situation is quite peculiar. Given that a handful of conglomerates own all of commercial media and many people still get their news from commercial TV news outlets such as ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News, it is reasonable to conclude that most people are targeted to become the ideal docile consumers that corporatism loves so much. In the neoliberal age, corporatism is the main religion, the primary drug of success, and the dominant ideology. Think like your company, act like your company, and do not question the “truth” given to you by your company no matter how unreasonable and incredible this “truth” may sound and look. Do not question the logic of corporatism—that is the main message. And if you do, TV journalists will include you in their sensational stories about bad guys trying to undo freedom and democracy. The power elite of corporatism distrust, and sometimes fear, authentic journalists. Honest sense dictates that a journalist not be comfortable in a relationship with corporate power. In fact, journalistic logic prescribes an adversarial relationship between the journalist and the CEO or a government official. Those so-called journalists—these millionaires– we see appearing on corporate TV are essentially charlatans who are very good at sounding serious, objective, compassionate, and dare I say, journalistic. They are very good actors and in a culture of spectacle, they are its most trusted celebrities. They come in different shades. They vary from semi-demagogue right wing proto-fascists to pseudo-liberal lefties. This is essentially a global phenomenon. However, the United States of America suffers from the worst case of corporate TV journalists who are hand-maidens of their corporate masters. It is because of corporatism permeating every American institution that the most trusted commercial journalist right now is a comedian by the name of John Stewart. To be sure, the alternative TV journalism and to some extent Public Broadcasting Systems are soldiering on and seeking the truth from the margins, but will the populace free itself from the chains of corporate TV journalism? Perhaps the Internet can change the dynamics of journalism toward a major global paradigm shift where corporate TV journalism can go where it belongs; into the oblivion.           

Poetry is success at communicative action

Poetry is democratic

Poetry is egalitarian

Poetry is poetic

Poetry is liquid

Poetry is soul making

Poetry reveals the truth about the other

That the other is the self and the self is the other unmasked

Poetry is passion of existentialist living

The prolific period from the tail end of 1960s to the end of 1970s, which I will call the 1970s, is an anomaly in mainstream American cinema. Partly due to the cultural success of television, bringing realism to American living rooms, the financial success of films like Easy Rider (1969) and Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde (1967), and also the global influence of Italian Neorealism and the French New Wave on all filmmakers—including the socially conscious American auteurs some of whom graduates of film schools, the system allowed an array of socio-political films to be made. Not only do we have an inventory of creative and boundary-crossing films in this period, but also a historical moment where American cinema for purpose of social change makes its mark on the global map.

First, there were financially successful and critically acclaimed films like John Frankenheimer’s The Manchurian Candidate (1962) which looks at the dark nature of politics and its deceptive secret programs (after the assassination of John Kennedy this film was pulled from the market and re-released in 1987 to great reception), The Graduate (1967) pointing to the absurdity of modern society, Bonnie and Clyde (1967) locating antiheroes in a sterile society and using self-conscious cinematic techniques such as slow motion (in the controversial violent ending) and jump cuts (like Godard in France), Medium Cool (1969) looking at the dehumanizing tendencies of television and political volatility of American society, and Midnight Cowboy (1969) problematizing the American dream and male-bonding.

Starting in the 1970s talented American directors had the green light to make the following powerful films:

Five Easy pieces (1970) directed by Bob Rafelson: an existential meditation about an accomplished pianist who gives up a promising career in music to become a drifting oil rig roughneck.

Little Big Man (1970) directed by Arthur Penn: The first major release Western that tells the side of the Native Americans during the bloody history of the United States.

M*A*S*H (1970) directed by Robert Altman: a powerful blending of comedy and melodrama to reveal the absurdity of war and its place in American life. Later, of course, MASH became a hit TV series.

Soldier Blue (1970) directed by Ralph Nelson: one of a handful of revisionist Westerns of the period which, in dramatic fashion, shows the massacre of Indians (Native Americans) by the US military—meant to be analogous to the My Lai massacre of Vietnamese by the US military.

    Woodstock (1970) directed by Michael Wadleigh: a revolution in documentary cinema, depicting the reality of communal living in form of a real live concert featuring great musicians like Joan Baez and Jimi Hendrix.

The French Connection (1971) directed by William Friedkin: a raw and compelling approach to police drama where the grey area rules, and of course its famous car chase scene is quite exciting even by today’s standards. 

A Clockwork Orange (1971) directed by Stanley Kubrick: Depicting the dark side of human nature and its societal institutions.

Harold and Maude (1971) directed by Hal Ashby: A romantic comedy par excellence, which shows an unlikely love story about an eccentric young man with money bored with life and a much older woman with no money but zest for life. This film offers a new perspective on love.

The last Picture Show (1971) directed by Peter Bogdanovich: It is a new approach to melodrama that shows a coming of age premise in a very innovative way in a small Texas town.   

McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971) directed by Robert Altman: an atypical Western about a small time entrepreneur who is killed by hired assassins to make way for a corporation to take over his market. The film anticipates the corporate takeover of American society.

The Godfather (1972) directed by Francis Ford Coppola: A story about America–dressed as a gangster family melodrama. This film is an epic about the contradictory element of doing business at the expense of morality.

Badlands (1973) directed by Terrence Malick: A story of the incomprehensible dark side of human nature against a backdrop of magnificent shots of America’s badlands.

The Iceman Comet (1973) directed by John Frankenheimer: An intimate drama about American barflies in the early 1900s. This film was a surprising box office success.

Mean Streets (1973) directed by Martin Scorsese: An honest portrayal of life in New York’s Little Italy with a unique complexity.

Serpico (1973) directed by Sidney Lumet: A great approach to neorealist tradition in an American setting, dealing with serious ethical issues in the police force.

Chinatown (1974) directed by Polish auteur Roman Polanski who has made his masterpieces in America using American actors: A treatise of Watergate scandal in form of a detective noir.

Godfather II (1974) directed by Francis Ford Coppola: Continuation of the great epic series, more impactful than the first one.

The Day of the Locust (1975) directed by John Schlesinger: A psychologically deep look at Hollywood’s 1930s and its impact on the citizens of Tinseltown.

Dog Day Afternoon (1975) directed by Sidney Lumet: A sophisticated examination of gender issues in America.

Nashville (1975) directed by Robert Altman: A perceptive examination of American culture and history, specifically a bloody history of political assassinations.

Night Moves (1975) directed by Arthur Penn: A magnificent achievement in blending a police drama with a psychological study of the American types.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) directed by Milos Forman: Based on Ken Kesey’s landmark novel, this is a powerful story of resistance, persistence, and fight for freedom and self-actualization in a society that wants to beat you into submission by any means necessary, including medication and lobotomy.

Shampoo (1975) directed by Hal Ashby: A clever blending of satire with serious critique of American values.

All the President’s Men (1976) directed by Alan J. Pakula: An excellent newspaper social drama about the Watergate scandal, which had real life world-changing ramifications.

Marathon Man (1976) directed by John Schlesinger: A suspense thriller about a dark history of Nazism and the criminals who got away.

Network (1976) directed by Sidney Lumet: An ominous and prophetic look at the world of television news and its future (present) off-spring reality TV.

Rocky (1976) directed by John G. Avildsen: A real life once in a lifetime shot for Sylvester Stallone turned into a landmark American film about the American dream.

Taxi driver (1976) directed by Martin Scorsese: Psychological drama about alienation and existential angst in contemporary America.

Annie Hall (1977) directed by Woody Allen: The most successful of neurotic comedies about New Yorkers, romantic comedy par excellence.

Eraserhead (1977) directed by David Lynch: A blueprint for cult films of the future.

Saturday Night Fever (1977) directed by John Badham: A probing look at the youth culture in New York.

Three Women (1977) directed by Robert Altman: A meditative examination of human relations.

Blue Collar (1978) directed by Paul Schrader: An intense look at labor unions and the politics of big business in trying to break up unions.

Days of Heaven (1978) directed by Terrence Malick: A mesmerizing cinematography in tandem with a philosophical look at human desires and motivations in life.

 Apocalypse Now (1979) directed by Francis Ford Coppola: A landmark film based on Joseph Conrad’s famous novel Heart of Darkness. It can be read as anti-war as well as Coppola’s personal psychological probing into humanity’s dark side. It took nearly three years to make and Coppola reportedly had many an existential moment where he questioned everything in life.

Being There (1979) directed by Hal Ashby: A story about an idiot who walks on water and pronounces very profound aphorisms. A precursor to Forrest Gump (1994), one might argue.

Norma Rae (1979) directed by Martin Ritt: An empowering film about one woman’s awakening and winning the struggle against exploitation of labor.

North Dallas Forty (1979) directed by Ted Kotcheff: One of the best films made about professional football from a socio-economic perspective. The film is a serious critique of pro football’s dehumanizing practices.