"That was probably just a facetious remark"—Top 10 Simpsons Presidential Moments

In honour of the United States' 240th anniversary of its independence, and the impending presidential election (and its equally impeding campaign), I've decided to honour the Office of the President of the United States by tirelessly assembling a collection of The Simpsons' greatest presidential moments.

The Simpsons has never been shy of political satire and laughing at their leaders. Most of them have been at the very least mentioned in some form. Remember Woodrow? Or Grandpa being spanked by Groover Cleveland on two non-consecutive occasions? Either Grandpa is ridiculously old (Cleveland was president in the late nineteenth century), or this is a very subtle and clever reference to Cleveland being the only person to have served two non-consecutive terms as president.

Anyway, without further ado, here's the list, starting with the honorable mentions.

Honorable Mentions

Dwight D. Eisenhower in "Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming" Season 7, Episode 9

Guest appearance on "The Stingy and Battery Show": let's get busy.

Jimmy Carter in "Marge in Chains" Season 4, Episode 21

Malaise forever: he's history's greatest monster.

Thomas Jefferson in "Mr. Lisa Goes to Washington" Season 3, Episode 2

Remembered for the Declaration of Independence, the Louisiana Purchase, and the dumbwaiter.

"The Mediocre Presidents" Zachary Taylor, John Tyler, Millard Fillmore, Rutherford B. Hayes, William Henry Harrison in "I Love Lisa" Season 4, Episode 15

The adequate, forgettable, occasionally regrettable, caretaker presidents of the U.S.A.

#10 Abraham Lincoln in "The Boy Who Knew Too Much" Season 5, Episode 20.

Disheartened by the prospect of going to school on a sunny summer's day, Bart attempts to escape reality by day-dreaming. His fantasy in includes himself floating on a raft with Huckleberry Finn down what is assumed to be a stereotypical Southern river. Also on the raft, standing tall with his trademark top-hat, unlike the boys who are reclining, is President Lincoln. Bart is bemused by Lincoln's presence and asks Finn, "Hey, Huck, what's L-I-N-C-O-N doing here?"—of course a misspelling of Lincoln. Finn replies, "I don't know. It's your fantasy." Bart then casually greets Lincoln, who says "Hello, Bart," cheerfully in response.

#9 George Washington in "Lisa the Iconoclast" Season 7, Episode 16

During her research for an essay on founder of Springfield, Jebediah Springfield, for the city's centenary, Lisa discovers the truth about Springfield's shadowy past. In a flashback to 1781, Springfield, who is revealed to be a pirate named Hans Sprungfeld, ambushes President Washington at his Trenton, New Jersey home and demands, "give me all your money!" to which Washington retorts, "Never!" A vicious fight ensues between the two men, and the painting which Washington was posing for is damaged; a piece is torn off by Sprungfeld as he retreats. This a reference to Gilbert Stuart's unfinished painting of Washington. The fight is interrupted when a women enters carrying an early incarnation of the US flag and says to Washington, "I got the white stars you wanted, but I couldn't find any red hearts, yellow moons, or green clovers." Washington, quite clearly disgruntled by this change of circumstance, replies, "We'll use it. But I'm not paying for it." This is likely a reference to the contentious mythology surrounding the "first flag," or the so-called Betsy Ross flag.

#8 Teddy Roosevelt in "The Day the Violence Died" Season 7, Episode 18

Chester Lampwick, a bum who claims to have invented Itchy and Scratchy, is determined to prove it to Bart and Milhouse so shows them the very first cartoon, "Manhattan Madness," he created in 1919. The cartoon only features Itchy, but Teddy Roosevelt makes an appearance. He exclaims (on an intertitle), "Ah, Manhattan Town. An agreeable sight for an old Knickerbocker like me," before being brutally decapitated by Itchy.

#7 Al Gore in "Grandpa Simpson vs. Sexual Inadequacy" Season 6, Episode 10

Strictly speaking, this not a presidential moment, but a vice-presidential moment. Nevertheless, I've included it because it's great. While out book shopping, Lisa purchases a copy of Al Gore's new book "Sane Planning, Sensible Tomorrow," a follow up to a previous book titled "Rational Thinking, Reasonable Future." When the book is scanned at the register, an electronic signal is sent to Washington D.C. to inform one of Gore's staff that someone finally bought a copy of his book. Gore, in a dry monotone replies, "well, this calls for a celebration." He leans over to a nearby turntable and starts "Celebration" by Kool & the Gang. The chorus rings out: "celebrate good times, come on!" To which Gore replies, "I will," still in monotonous excitement.

#6 Richard Nixon in "Homer Goes to College"
 Episode 3, Season 5

Homer and some nerds at Springfield University, want to pull a prank on rival college Springfield A&M. They kidnap Springfield A&M's mascot pig Sir Oinks-a-lot, who subsequently gets severely intoxicated after splitting a case of malt-liquor with Homer. When the team is caught, the nerds are expelled; the dean regrettably informing them, "I'm sorry boys, I've never expelled anyone before, but that pig had some powerful friends." Then appears Richard Nixon to scold the nerds: "Oh, you'll pay! Don't think you won't pay." Earlier, when planning the kidnapping, Bart shows the team a picture of Sir Oinks-a-lot conferring an honorary degree on Nixon.

#5 Bill Clinton in "Homer to the Max" Episode 13, Season 10

Homer and Marge are attending a party on an invite by Homer's new well-to-do liberal friend Trent Steel that is attended by other well-to-do liberal celebrities including Woody Harrelson and Ed Begley Jr. Also attending the party is President Clinton, who Marge dances with while he attempts to seduce her by suggesting, "I know you don't think you're good enough for me. But believe me, you are. Hell, I've done it with pigs. Real no-foolin' pigs." This is almost certainly a reference to the Monica Lewinsky scandal that broke a year before this episode aired.

#4 Ronald Reagan in "Homer's Barbershop Quartet" Episode 1, Season 5

The Be Sharps, the barbershop quartet Homer is in, are the performing guest at the centenary of the Statue of Liberty in 1986, and President Reagan is present. Showing his capitalist Protestant work ethic, he bemoans having to be at the event: "damn ceremonies, this is time I could be working."

#3 Ronald Reagan, Richard Nixon, George H.W. Bush, and Jimmy Carter in "Rosebud" Episode 4, Season 5

Waiting in line, carrying wrapped gifts, for Mr. Burns' birthday party are former Presidents Reagan, Nixon, and George H.W. Bush. Reagan and Nixon are allowed in the party, but Bush gets stopped and rejected by a security guard at the door who tells him, "Hey, no one-termers." After being rejected he is consoled by fellow one-termer Jimmy Carter. Bush is obviously not ready to reconcile with old political rivalries telling Carter, "Get away from me, loser!"

#2 John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon in "Duffless" Episode 6, Season 4

This one is basically for the nerds of United States political history. On a tour of the Duff Brewery, Barney and Homer are shown a Duff beer commercial featuring Vice-President, then eventual President Nixon, and Senator, then eventual President Kennedy. It is a reference to the first of four televised debates between Kennedy and Nixon during the 1960 presidential election campaign. Nixon's comment (in this episode), "if you knew the president, that was probably just a facetious remark," is, verbatim, what Nixon said in response the statement, "President Eisenhower was asked to give one example of a major idea of yours that he adopted. His reply was, and I'm quoting; 'If you give me a week I might think of one. I don't remember,'" made by Sander Vanocur of NBC News. It is because of this episode that I can no longer read any speeches by Kennedy without it automatically reverting to a Mayor Quimby voice in my inner monologue (Quimby's Boston accent is based on Kennedy's).

#1 George H. W. Bush and Gerald Ford in "Two Bad Neighbours" Episode 13, Season 7

How could it not be number one? An entire episode dedicated to the tired old conservatism of the first Bush. Showrunner Bill Oakley took inspiration from the show's previous feud with the Bushes; instead of wanting to make a political statement about Bush, he suggested it was more about making fun of his "crotchetiness." The episode features many classic moments when Bush faces off with Homer and Bart who don't like his presence in the neighbourhood. Bush's exchanges, similarity to, and partiality for Ned Flanders, resonate with his family friendly brand of conservatism. He even picks up an "Okily dokily" from Flanders' gibberish lingo. There's a reference to Bush vomiting (a bout of the flu) on the Japanese prime minister at a state dinner in 1992: "I'll ruin you like a Japanese banquet!" This episode also features a brief appearance by Nixon's post-resignation successor Gerald Ford, who Homer immediately takes an interest in because of his mutual like of football and nachos. They both trip on the curb, shouting "D'oh!" on their way to Ford's house, a reference to Ford's unfortunate habit of falling down.

Some more memorable lines from Bush include:
—"And since I'd achieved all my goals as President in one term, there was no need for a second... Hmmm... Good memoirs. Good, not great." Typing the conclusion to his memoirs.
—"That guy is louder than World War II. Ray, go see what the rhubarb is, will you?" Waiting in the Krusty Burger drive-through with Homer honking his car-horn behind him.
—"Oh good, they're roasting the new guy." Upon seeing Bill Clinton on the cover of US News.
—"But, Bar, we can't show any weakness in front of the Russians." After being forced to apologise to Homer by his wife Barbara in front of former Soviet Premier Mikhail Gorbachev.
———————————————————————————————————————— "... we can explore space together, both inner and outer, forever in peace." —W. M. Hicks.

Breferemdum: A Comprehensive List of Media Buzzword Portmanteau for Future EU Referenda.

In light of the "Brexit"—Britain's referendum to leave the European Union—I've concocted a handy go-to reference for all your future portmanteau buzzword needs. Because any profit-turning media organisation has a penchant for portmanteau. Just like celebrity power couples, it doesn't make sense to the senseless hordes unless we take two existing words and smash them together in a cringe-inducing manner.

So the following contains many original "exitisms" for when you just can't find a word short enough for "[insert EU country here]'s proposal to leave the EU." These are organised into The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

The Good: The words that sound great, feel great, and can be just dropped into conversation at your pretentious cocktail parties like you've used them all your life.

- Brexit* - United Kingdom

- Grexit* - Greece

- Czexit* - Czech Republic

- Frexit* - France

- Spexit - Spain

- Nexit - The Netherlands

- Luxit - Luxembourg

- Swexit - Sweden

- Fixit - Finland

- Laxit - Latvia

- Lixit - Lithuania

The Bad: While not tounge-twisters in their own right, these mashups just don't have that great mouthfeel—to borrow wine terminology. The $10-15 bottle so to speak.

- Gexit (pronounced with a soft G) - Germany

- Poxit - Poland

- Dexit* (I feel as if this one has already been coined—Denmark is quite Eurosceptic) - Denmark

- Bexit - Belgium

- Exit (highly original of course) - Estonia

- Auxit - Austria

- Huxit - Hungary

- Roxit (pronounced with a long O) - Romania

- Buxit (pronounced with a short U) - Bulgaria

- Maxit - Malta

- Croxit - Croatia

- Slexit (or Slovaxit) - Slovakia

The Ugly: No, just no... Any journalist that dare to use these should be fired—immediately. Or just go work for Fox News.

- Irexit - Ireland

- Itexit - Italy

- Cyxit - Cyprus

- Porxit - Portugal

*Note these are not original coinages, and as far I am aware have already entered the cheese-filled world of journalistic buzzwordery.

———————————————————————————————————————— "... we can explore space together, both inner and outer, forever in peace." —W. M. Hicks.

Refugees, Referenda, and The Rugby-Industrial Complex

Looking back over this past week in politics, I struggle to find the words to describe my feelings towards the messy, incomprehensible, variegated swirl of events that have taken place. It's as if someone has pulled out that box in my cognition that processes events and deciphers them so the can be analysed at a later date and replaced it with a meat mincer. But is this just me, or is it the bizarre mix that has gone into it? In order to process what has possibly become the farcical peak of the Fifth National Government, it is going to need a rigorous break-down of its almost paradoxical parts.

Anybody who knows me personally, knows that my interest in rugby has waned to the point of oblivion over the last ten years. I can't remember the last time I watched a full game (perhaps the the 2011 World Cup final, but even then it was work, as I was a technician in the corporate audio-visual industry at the time—so that wasn't of my own choice). Firstly, it's not that I have anything against rugby per se, or even sport in general, but I just don't find it that interesting. I'm an odd person out: I don't mind cricket, in fact, I wish I had more time to watch cricket, but I just don't like rugby that much anymore. Secondly, and more importantly, I loath the ubiquity of the hyper-commercialised, hyper-masculine, alcohol soaked, and now politicised nature the game has become. I'm sure there are other sports worldwide that get the same treatment, but, what I'm going to call the Rugby-Industrial Complex, has become unique to New Zealand. I've derived this terminology from Dwight Eisenhower's warning to Americans in 1961 of a military-industrial complex that has since derailed the American political system. Eisenhower described the monetary relationship between legislators, the military, and the arms industry. Thankfully, New Zealand doesn't have such a war-mongering culture, but the political ties between rugby and the National Government are almost certainly discernible.

It was Robert Muldoon's National Government that insisted in 1981 that the national rugby team of a country that had openly racist and oppressive policies should not be stopped from touring in New Zealand because, obviously, sport and politics don't mix. Sure, different nations can come together at the Olympic games and compete for the spirit of the game, but below that semblance of unity there are often deep tensions and political motives. Why do all the rich countries win more medals? Surely sporting talent can arise anywhere on the globe? It was Aristotle that said man (just man) was, and still is, a fundamentally political animal. There is no way to completely depoliticise sport, just like every other action anyone takes, the motives for that action are linked to your moral principles, and hence, your political principles. The relationship the 1981 National Government had with rugby is one of convenience, just like the present National Government. Muldoon didn't want to upset his rural rugby-loving, liberal-hating constituents. To Muldoon, the tour wasn't going to become a political football—but in performing that do nothing approach it inherently was still politicised.

Fast-forward three decades and that switched has been flipped in its opposite direction, but as aforementioned, the relationship is a relationship of convenience. I'm not going to go terribly in-depth with the events of the 2011 Rugby World Cup because they have been highly publicised and scrutinised. But suffice to say, that is when the Rugby-Industrial Complex reached maturity. What other country has a Rugby World Cup minister? How about that awful political point scoring three-way handshake? As we descend on another traffic-stopping tournament the Rugby-Industrial Complex is stoking its boilers and exercising its political muscle. The rugby and politics train collided head-on on Sunday when John Key opened Parliament especially for the announcement of the 2015 World Cup Team. For the "sport and politics don't mix" attitude this seems the be a juxtaposition. This is the Key Government putting the spotlight on themselves as just as rugby-mad as the rest of New Zealand rather than on the mounting political failures of late. Also, I can't remember the last time there was so much media attention given to the players that didn't even make the team. Are we that obsessed?

Yet again, the telling influence of the Rugby-Industrial Complex has shown its ugly side this week with the bill rushed through Parliament allowing bars to be open at the early hours of the morning to coincide with games in the United Kingdom. I'm sure the political-business ties are many and numerous between the hospitality industry, alcohol companies, Sky TV, and the National Party. But would I, along with many others, be a killjoy by pointing this out? No, because it just seems so bizarre that this event gets such special treatment—and inevitably this is just the result of our socially destructive hyper-masculine, drinking, homophobic, rape culture. Will the roastbusters team be out during the world cup picking up drunk and vulnerable women? Why this event and not any other? Why do we need to drink to be a part of, or enjoy sport? Surely the unhealthy habits of binge drinking seem oxymoronic to the athleticism of rugby? This is obviously a complex relationship—again, a relationship of convenience—that runs deep and what I've mentioned is just food, or should I say drink, for thought.

This other week's farcical political sideshow was the dreaded flag referendum. Apologists for the referendum often suggest the $26 million spend is a drop in the bucket; welfare costs billions. Never mind that gutting the modern welfare state would be turning back the clock to the social Darwinism of Victorian Britain. However, Key was unequivocal in his reluctance to spend $9 million on the citizens' initiated referendum on the partial sale of important public assets. I'm sure the Taxpayer's Union had a collective moan at the money spent on the referendum whose result was arrogantly ignored. You'd think a referendum initiated by the people would set a democratic percent and warrant somewhat more budget attention. But this shinning example of direct democracy didn't suit the ideologically blindfolded agenda of a cynical and fundamentally anti-democratic government. Again, a relationship of convenience. Apologists will chime that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have a collective say in the future of our nation. But this horribly misses the mark. There was largely collective disgust or apathy when selection panel released its top forty flag choice, which was repeated again more vehemently with this week's release of the final four. It's quite clearly a politically motivated distraction and carefully planned money waster when the Prime Minister's pet flag appears in the top four. It might to interesting to follow any ties Kyle Lockwood has to the National Party and the Prime Minister. Again, the Rugby-Industrial Complex rears its head again when three of the four final designs feature the silver fern. Which is why I find it so perplexing that the NZRU is threatening legal action regarding the silver fern. Perhaps there will be some golden handshake for the boys at the NZRU courtesy of the tax payers. The National Government is not exactly averse to hook-ups for the boys.

As John Oliver has shown, the entire process has descended into internationally embarrassing farcical levels. Given most public opinion polls, people don't want this political pet project shoved down their throats. But no, the fruitcake-of-a sideshow must go on because it's democratic. Also, how exactly is having a say in the primary symbolic representation of our nation having a say in its future? It's akin to spending more time worrying about what colour tie to wear at a job interview than rehearsing answers to questions one might be potentially asked. One is quite clearly more relevant to your future economic outcomes than the other. We can have a politically sanctioned say in jingoistic semiotics, but how dare we have a say in the fundamental structures of political economy. It's the scraps of democracy left over for the masses from meal of the political and economic elites.

Finally, I move on to this week's equally farcical, but tragic event: the unfolding humanitarian crisis in Europe and the Middle East, and the New Zealand Government's morally vacuous response to it. They haven't lost their moral compass, no, they just threw it on the ground and stomped on it. There is a vicious hypocrisy appearing when earlier this year Key verbally insulted Andrew Little's carefully considered stance on sending New Zealand troops to Iraq by telling him to "get some guts". Despite our pittance contribution that could very well be ineffectual given the massive corruption in the Iraqi military and the surrender-inducing tactics of ISIL, Key insisted it was our moral duty, which was later revised to the payment for being part of the club—the FVEY alliance. How can we have this sycophantic behaviour but turn a blind eye to the other, inconvenience of the war—refugees? But the rugby mentality runs deep: it is more righteous to go to war, fight, and die than deal with the consequences. I can understand the response to criticism of such a woeful quota. Taking refugees does require money and infrastructure. But surely the quota could be doubled all for the cost of a flag-referendum? It is almost soul crushing nihilism that this government will rush to support legislation to extend public drinking hours for the Rugby-Industrial Complex but will not rush to support legislation for our moral duty to humanity. The same could be said for the $11 million paid to a disgruntled Saudi businessman; the same theocratic kingdom that has carried out hundreds of brutal public executions this year alone. There is some something horribly askew when we can throw money away at some quixotic sheep-deal in a nation that is not discernibly different from ISIL. The National Government had the audacity to claim that although they disagree with their human rights record, the Saudi judicial system is legislatively sanctioned and therefore legitimate. This is possibly one the most weakly ignorant arguments to grovel to a nation whose judicial system is medieval. The Third Reich in Germany from 1933 to 1945 was legislatively sanctioned as was the Final Solution at the Wansee Conference in 1942. The refugees from war-torn Europe were accommodated in New Zealand including our Prime Minister's mother. Imagine if New Zealand had not opened its doors. Also, we are not talking about immigration, we are talking about people fleeing for their lives. Surely when the morality of life or death is involved the initial concern is more pressing and the financial considerations become secondary. But the National Party does not think like this: its moral concerns are subjugated to the market, the primary moral reality. This is most certainly obvious when it comes to workplace health and safety legislation; that horrible red tape that actually stops people losing life and limb is not morally more important than letting the market do its invisible hand thing. As a myriad of commentators have already said, its time this government got some guts.

This is just scratching the surface of the beat-your-head-against-a-wall train wreak that is not just a third term National Government, no this is something truly spectacular, a third term Key government. A government run by ideological obsessive free-market fanatics that paint themselves as politically pragmatic with their Crosby-Textor spin-doctors. But in time the paint wears thin, and eventually the people will see the shoddy woodwork below. The social and culture rhetoric might be centre-right, but the fundamental structures of political economy are on a death-march to the far-right, surely, but slowly, where money talks, and morals walk.

———————————————————————————————————————— "... we can explore space together, both inner and outer, forever in peace." —W. M. Hicks.

Campbell Live and its Discontents: The Culture Industry, Repressive Desublimation, and Investigative Journalism in New Zealand

It beggars belief that in a liberal democracy there is such a passive acceptance of the inevitability of Campbell Live’s fate—why is a fundamental cornerstone of democracy being eroded away within a system that purports to actively champion it? I aim to offer a dual explanation for the general demise of rigorous news media under late capitalism by application of Theodore Adorno’s culture industry thesis, as well as Freudian psychoanalysis via Herbert Marcuse’s repressive desublimation thesis. These two theories when applied in tandem shed light on why this has not only willingly occurred by suggesting that it is in capital’s interest to orchestrate such a system, but that we accept this system because it caters for our deepest irrational desire for it.

There has been a plethora of media analysis of the situation Campbell Live is facing, and to trawl through all of them to give a comprehensive picture is beyond the theoretical application of this essay. However, I wish to draw attention to Gordon Campbell’s editorial that highlights the inevitable demise of investigative journalism on broadcast television as an inherent, and dangerous, reality in a market orientated environment. Campbell’s paraphrasing of Oscar Wilde to describe the market telling us the “price of everything and the value of nothing” should be to be considered pertinent rather than a mere quip.[1] Lord Darlington was answering the question: “What is a cynic?”[2] The Oxford English Dictionary defines cynical as:

Believing that people are motivated purely by self-interest … concerned only with one’s own interests and typically disregarding accepted standards in order to achieve them.[3]

Pay particular attention to these definitions in relation to the market—and both Campbell’s application of Wilde to the market, and how this relates to Adorno’s thesis (as well as Marcuse’s). Keep in mind that under capitalism producers and consumers are self-interested. The disjunction between intrinsic and exchange value touches at one of the contradictions of capitalism, both with regards to the aesthetic of culture highlighted by Adorno, as well as, more troublingly, the fundamental principles of democracy. While journalism can be said to have use value in terms of information content for consumers, at a higher level its relationship to maintaining a functioning democracy and distributing knowledge could be considered intrinsic.

                  The original aim of Adorno’s thesis was to show what we would perceive of as artistic culture—film, music, literature, radio, television—is being standardised in such a way as to increase its market value and well as undermine its critical element, all to the benefit of capital.[4] The underlying causal mechanisms that he exposed in doing so can be discerned, explicably, in every facet of late capitalist societies, including journalism. By using a more encompassing definition of culture within Adorno’s theory, investigative journalism (in this case within the context of broadcast television), has also become subject to the same marketability and standardisation that has subsumed artistic culture.^[5] The archetypal measure of success in business is sales volume, and in turn, repetition of the formula of success. The product is worthy only insofar as it can be sold to the largest possible market. It is beyond belief that Television New Zealand’s pseudo-journalistic venture Seven Sharp consistently has substantively higher viewer ratings than Campbell Live, nevertheless, the show has found a formula that guarantees higher advertising revenue than a more qualitative editorial enterprise. The show’s less contentious and predictable content appeals to a larger public and appeases advertisers. It is little wonder then that MediaWorks, Campbell Live’s producers, wishes to replicate this formula for its own commercial imperatives. Profit will always trump any higher value offered by journalism. This fusion of entertainment and information produces a muted critical thinking in its viewers that will feedback into supporting the capitalist media enterprise.

                  Surely within a highly educated society consumers would see this apparatus at face value and demand otherwise? It seems not. In order to understand this we must engage with Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalysis and Marcuse’s Marxist application of it. Freud suggests our deepest irrational desires for instant pleasurable gratification (the pleasure principle) is regulated by normative rules in our social sphere that we internalise (the reality principle).[6] Freud refers to the process of transformation of these desires into useful activity as sublimation. In addition to claiming civilization is driven by the process of sublimation, Freud argues that art as an end is a principle manifestation of sublimation. Marcuse, however, has suggested that late capitalism has reversed this notion. High culture, he claims, was originally a subversive dimension of society as the result of sublimation. However, the culture industry under late capitalism has flattened out any subversive element that it once had.[7]

While journalism does not explicitly fit the mould of art, and it can nevertheless be considered within high culture, as there is something to be said for the subversive element it can contain, namely, the critique of power. It is the changes in the mode of production under late capitalism that is rendering some forms of television journalism less antagonistic by blurring the distinction between its critical discourse, and trivialised news snippets and puff-piece journalism that satisfies instant gratification. This desublimation in turn generates the market demand that cynically demands this easy-to-digest and less subversive news content that capital, seeking to return a profit, is more than happy to supply.

A common critique of the trivialisation of television media suggests that the sphere of interactive discourse has shifted to the medium of the internet. While somewhat true, the desublimation hypothesis still suggests a required critical thought to actively engage with this sphere; a concerted effort is required to seek out and critically analyse news media and editorialised writing. However, a desublimated consumer will defer this critical thought via various modes of instant gratification: referring to websites of television news media such as TVNZ or 3 News; corporate dominated print media websites such as the New Zealand Herald or Fairfax; social media feeds such as Facebook or Twitter; or in an unfortunately increasing number of consumers, even the need for trivalised journalism is trumped by less critical forms of entertainment of which the internet offers an almost bottomless pit of. Any engagement with news media is still taken at face value uncritically, whether in agreement or not, instant gratification is satisfied and the matter is seldom engaged further than satisfactorily necessary.

Both Adorno and Marcuse had something important to say in the critique of late capitalism, and no doubt features of their theory are seen not just in artistic culture, but all culture. 'I don't want to think; I want to feel' is the epitome of the consumer under late capitalism. What Adorno and Marcuse have shown us is that the passive acceptance of this system, because of capital's manipulation of it, is destroying the 'think' supplied by investigative journalism, and exacerbating the 'feel' supplied by predictable and formulaic infotainment. The market becomes the measure of everything and offers the (intrinsic) value of nothing. We have become astonishingly self-interested and cynical as a consequence.

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[1] Gordon Campbell, "Gordon Campbell on the Demise of Campbell Live," Scoop Media, last modified April 10, 2015, http://gordoncampbell.scoop.co.nz/2015/04/10/gordon-campbell-on-the-demise-of-campbell-live/.

[2] Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan (Cambridge: ProQuest LLC, 1996), 95.

[3] Oxford Dictionary of English, Third Edition, 2013, s.v. “cynical”.

[4] Theodor W. Adorno and Max Horkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment, trans. John Cumming (London: Verso, 2010), 120-167.

[5] Precise definitions of culture are numerous and debatable, and vary between sociological and anthropological disciplines. I intend to utilise Ian Buchanan’s definition of culture as a “set of beliefs, practices, rituals, and traditions shared by a group of people”, which within a democratic society would include journalism as valued for its contribution to political accountability. Oxford Dictionary of Critical Theory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), s.v. “culture”.

[6] Sigmund Freud, Civilization and its Discontents, trans. David McLintock (London: Penguin, 2004), 16-20.

[7] Herbert Marcuse, One-Dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society (London: Routledge, 2002), 59-86.

———————————————————————————————————————— "... we can explore space together, both inner and outer, forever in peace." —W. M. Hicks.