Mōd by simonaisabelahritac

MōD

Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me Don’t put guilt on me

This issue

Imagine a residential compound that evokes both brutalist and postmodernist features. This is where I live, in a small, traditionally white Danish student room, where I keep my thin and worn down mattress. In my room, I strive for comfort and balance, opposed to the functional outside, trying to reflect my character and maintaining a semblance of control. There you go, one of the most cherished values in contemporary society: being in control. Unfortunately, my Achilles’ heel works directly against this intention, leaving me laid down on my bed, sloth-like. Procrastination - once considered equal, simply, to laziness - shows up more and more in stressed groups; even pigeons are afflicted. Pigeons! I was definitely not expecting to relate that much to this meme-bound animal. Laziness and procrastination share a lack of motivation and action, but the latter aspires to act, with no success, however. When it comes to procrastination, instant gratification is king, supposedly. Sources like Tim Urban, the TED sensation with over twenty six million views, promote the idea that instant gratification is what drags us to unproductivity. They also pair it with solutions, but what they fail to explain is what leads someone to that point, since instant gratification is only a coping mechanism. On the other side, the internet acts like a sponge, perfect for bacteria to grow, but in this case it creates a space where there is no resolution to the problem; instead, the internet only creates a multitude of hiding places. The underlying problem concerns a much bigger issue, moods and feelings.

Anxiety and fear of the future tend to be the favorites, but that is where guilt comes in, taking two forms: as a reason and as a consequence. In part, my own expectations have been distorted, as the society I grew up in expected men to show few weaknesses, intensifying the guilt effect. It is sad. Psychologists say that these bad moods precede procrastination, and my brain agrees, yelling: “Hell, yeah!”. Sometimes my actions make me feel guilty; they make me think I have betrayed my own standards. So, nothing done! I imagine it as me drowning in my own mind, trying to stop life around me. As Timothy A. Pychyl puts it: “Avoid the task, avoid the bad mood”. Sounds fair, coming from an award winning psychology researcher and writer from Carleton University. Guilt, again, is the result, because now I am lazy and I think that the problem is not that big. Such a vicious cycle. There is hope, though. After all, we are not pigeons, right? The more we talk about procrastination, the more we can explore and change how we feel together. Determination is key, and we should strive to lower people’s fears and anxieties. Society, too, can play a role, not by lowering expectations, but by creating an environment where mistakes and errors can be used to help people grow. I hope we can explore this and much more in this issue. I invite you to stay curious in the pages to come. As a side note, I went through the procrastination hole when writing this piece, and yes, guilt was there too. Just great!

How the shabby horror aesthetic saved me from myself 05

Morphine addicts have their days numbered on earth

COFFEE & NEWS Coffee

Travel Guide To Do Nothing

Pastries

I Didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Do It... They did.

Moods are constantly changing. MĹ?d wants you to be curious and go explore. These folios will help you see the different perspectives.

How the shabby horror aesthetic saved me from myself How do guilty pleasures work? And what makes them, well… guilty? I recently had to exercise that thought while hunkered down in my apartment, using the recent nationwide quarantine as a convenient excuse to comfort myself by rewatching one of my favourite TV shows (I am sure you can relate). The show of choice was Channel 4’s Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace; a six-episode mini-series that tells a spooky story of a certain haunted hospital. It holds a special place in my heart for so many reasons, most of which make me consider the series an example of guilty pleasure entertainment. Yet, the more I tried to analyze what makes Darkplace seemingly fit into that category, the more trouble I had with the popular idiom. But, we’ll come back to that.

In the popular understanding, guilty pleasures are the pleasures we derive from activities we know we should not engage in, harmless little sins. I find most of mine in the world of film and TV. More specifically, I consider myself a passionate amateur of the “So bad that it is actually good” movie genre. At night, I wonder whether the prequel to Troll 2 (I guess just called Troll) will ever get made, and I am actually a little proud of the fact that Tommy Wiseau, the infamous creator of The Room, a.k.a. The best worst movie ever most probably was born in the city I come from (we can’t know for sure, but Reddit thread rumors are good enough for me). I love cringing at poor dialogue and over the top acting, admiring dated CGI or grimacing as the totally-not-red-paint-at-all blood ejects from various body parts in seriously troubling amounts. And in my preferences, I am not alone; many indulge in such delights. No wonder: terrible movies often give us what we want, instant gratification, easy entertainment sprinkled with comfy condescension. But where does that condescension come from and why is a bit of frivolous TV a reason to feel guilty? Supposedly, when we do something that feels good but is wrong for all the other reasons, we feel guilty in the end. I think most of us make an immediate connection between pain and pleasure. And there should be science to support that. As the Yale School of Management professor, Ravi Dhar concluded in his research: “Intuitively, we might believe that a negative emotion like guilt would adversely affect the pleasure we feel from an indulgent, or hedonic, experience. Quite the contrary, we found that guilt may be a key mechanism for enhancing pleasure”. It does feel good to surrender to temptation. A doughnut only tastes half as good when you are not on a diet. Even the biblical Adam and Eve aren’t strangers to guilty pleasures, if not the very precursors of it (credit where credit’s due). Although the divine authors of the Bible would probably not approve, arguments for liberating guilty pleasures have been made across the world of academia. Many argue it is actually healthy for human beings to shift from problem-solving mode and dive in headfirst into shallow, undemanding activities. Intuitively, I wanted to scoff at the notion of crediting mindless reality TV and bad movies for my good mental health, but then something stopped me.

Enter Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace A mini-series created in 2004 by Matthew Holness and Richard Ayoade. At first glance, it looks and feels just like a poorly written, poorly acted and definitely underfinanced horror show made in the 80s’. The fantastic premise of the show is that the viewers are watching a program in which Garth Marenghi, a horror author, is presenting a special edition cut of a failed TV show that he wrote, directed, co-produced and starred in. The special edition is intertwined with commentary from Garth and the rest of the film crew, who reminisce about particular scenes, stunts and the good old times in general. What makes the show so different though is that the creators are undoubtedly talented and clever filmmakers, who made it bad on purpose. Essentially a parody and a love letter to bad filmmaking, the show within a show is riddled with weird cuts, inconsistent sound design, cliché writing and obscure plots. That would be binge-worthy on its own, but the additional layer of interviews and commentary where the creators show the viewers that the screw-ups are on purpose is what makes the show so much more satisfying. Yet, Holness and Ayoade never wish to moralize or undermine the seemingly poor quality of their characters’ work. So what to make out of a show that for the bulk of its runtime looks and feels like a trainwreck only to be redeemed by a couple of subtle hints? Highbrow culture? Lowbrow culture? It seems like the creators are trying to say ‘Who cares?’ The trouble with guilty pleasures is that they are not really

about feeling guilt. If anything, the pleasure in participating in what we consider lowbrow culture makes us feel good because we know better. Or at least we like to think we do. From a cultural point of view, the very essence of the idiom lies in enabling manifestation of our cultural literacy. Calling something by that phrase is a way to distance ourselves from what we consider substandard. It comes from the oppressive notion that we only deserve pleasure when we worked hard for it. Which is exactly what Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace deconstructs by playing with the “So bad that it is actually good” genre. Here we have skilled and cultured creators butchering all standards of filmmaking, and having the time of their lives while they are at it. Yes, there is a narrative designed to remind us it is on purpose but the winks are not condescending; they are inviting. The creators manifest their own cultural literacy, but they also poke fun at both high and lowbrow culture, blurring the lines and delivering a project that brings joy on so many levels; as a comedy, pastiche, cheap horror; however many layers you can or wish to decode. It’s up to you. Guilty pleasures can be fun exercises in expanding our understanding of culture, challenging the norms and standards. Or they can just be a healthy getaway from problem-solving. So let’s get off our high horses and embrace our pleasures. No guilt attached.

I come from pain It’s an internal pain That’s a symbol of my reasoning And how I became a man of no blame The pain from rejection and the physical blood stains It’s like my soul is like brick it can withstand hurricane rain My skin is soft and my insides hard like granite But it’s a combination that if you can feel me right now You won’t understand it Pain from a struggle of a life not feeling good Enuff Maybe bcuz in my environment they teach us to keep our head up But our mind down Taught to feel inferior to anyone with purpose That’s how you train animals I’m a strong man with standards and focus Life is how you approach it not what you quoting I come from so much pain But it’s the fuel for my desire to be closer to perfect My heart bleeds this urge to release these words Medicine for my pain and it’s bandaids for my stains I’m never gonna quit bcuz it will just cause more pain Letting those down who count on me is not in my frame I come from pains

- Hosea Stevens, Written while serving a 6 years sentence for armed robbery and robbery

In his novel, William Burroughs dives into a rather controversial topic around drug addiction (including his own), exploring the question of who should actually take the guilt.

Most of the time, we use guilt as a coping mechanism. Be an apology, a gesture, straight-up denial or a slight acknowledgement. At least that is my humble opinion. We can do it intentionally by going ahead of our acts. Seeking a solution to avoid negative consequences. Or unintentionally, just floating, waiting for something or someone to fix it. For William S. Burroughs, in his first novel, Junkie, it is the subtle combination of the two. He lets us peek into the decisions of his guilty habit and how he coped with it through a somewhat autobiographical lens. And let me point this out right off the bat - he does not feel guilty. â&#x20AC;&#x153;The addict himself often feels that he is leading a normal life and that junk is incidental.â&#x20AC;? He is refusing the responsibility and also refusing the judgement of people who have never been users of any junk. Instead, he paints

a fairly accurate and rough picture of a chunk of his everyday. Almost forcing a pair of fresh glasses on you to show the stripped-down reality of what it meant to be a junkie in the early 1950s of America. And a junkie would never apologise for his actions.

Almost forcing a pair of fresh glasses on you to show the stripped-down reality

“I don’t mean it as justification or deterrent or anything but an accurate account of what I experienced while I was on the junk.” - Burroughs explained in his letter to his editor, Allen Ginsberg. To me, this plain accuracy is one of the things that brings the twisted element to the narrative. It does not equip you with instructions. It might ask you questions but not to take sides, in any way. You are left on your own, just as much as the junkies are in his chapters. The other thing is humour. Not in the light-hearted or sentimental sense. There is a particularly sharp way of phrasing, tinted with satire, honesty and ambiguity. It is so subtle you can almost miss it between the bare lines of his stories. “The questions, of course, could be asked: ‘Why did you ever try narcotics? Why did you continue using it long enough to become an addict?’ You become a narcotics addict because you do not have strong motivations in any other direction. Junk wins by default.” And Burroughs does not want any consolation

or understanding for it. Just because the junk always wins, it does not make it a problem or an enemy. Not necessarily. In fact, it turns the gloomy, repetitive days into purpose and hard work. Or maybe it is another excuse calling itself an accomplishment. The way I see it, Junkie is an open field for your opinion to thrive. What it does is exactly challenging the conventional ideas of what good and bad is, which makes it fascinating to read, and re-read in the years to come.

Travel Guide to Do Nothing Many times, pressure joins our vacation, sitting on our back, whispering to do more. It is time to deal with travel guilt and openly enjoy a cold brew. When was the last time you caught yourself doing just nothing? That utter reprieve from daily thoughts, like in Interstellar, when the docking station crashes and all you hear from space is silence. That blank moment when you are not busy refreshing your feed, glancing at unread messages or planning the next weekâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s bits. We all can name a time and place, a spot, that local treat where we find a golden moment to switch off for a while. And finding that hidden gem elsewhere is even more precious. And for me, Oliver Coffee in Manhattan hits the spot. You might think a vacation is a fair example of doing nothing. But who is going to find that local treasure then? And inform the crowd we left behind about that glorious new land? Or immortalise an ice cream cone for Instagram in front of a famous looking building? This privileged touristy position obliges us to explore restlessly. We must milk this opportunity and we better start having fun, right now.

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Sitting there outside felt like i was in a library or a museum, but without the pressure to absorb any information Over my last trip, this serious realization hit me again. I rushed off the subway at Bowery to make sure I documented every part of Chinatown well before I reach Battery Park. Six minutes in I already got overwhelmed with my surroundings. I ran into the junction of Park Row, where I noticed the tired little bench of Oliverâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s. The quietness of the street drew me there with no hesitation and the modesty of the yellow window counter sealed the deal. I got a cold brew, just to keep up the good work for the gram, then I found myself ditching the phone and grabbing a book I have been carrying around a couple of years now. Sitting there outside felt like I was in a library or a museum, but without the pressure to absorb any information. I could have been in a park with no bees or children, buzzing and running around. And this simplicity invited my brain to turn off and indulge in the moment.

Well, not really its simplicity, but the way it simply is. Two small tables and a tall wooden bookshelf. A once green bench, drowned in stickers located outside. Background music that is so mellow it almost blends into the walls. All the drink items a coffee place should offer and two bites to eat. Genuine and laid-back staff, sticking their head out of the window for a chat every now and then. And there you have it. Oliver Coffee at number 5 Oliver Street. Just like the sibling you wished for. Oliver Coffee does not outshine you. It leaves you alone whenever you want to; but it has that homey comfort that assures you are never really on your own.

I spent two weeks in New York, and I missed out many sights, just to recharge in the silence of Oliverâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s. I even finished my book. For the first time in a while, I could embrace doing nothing. And it is okay to do nothing. And with that in mind, I can proudly admit I have never made it to Battery Park either.

I Didn’t Do It... They did. The only thing modern consumers hate more than injustice is an inconvenience. In today’s society, we have been encouraged to engage with our guilt primarily as consumers. Increasingly, we are urged to take fewer flights, buy environmentally friendly products, walk or cycle instead of driving to help lower our carbon footprint and thus, make our own contribution to ‘saving the planet’. A plethora of ‘sustainable’ products are on offer; giving consumers the chance to make, what appears to be, an eco-friendly or morally favourable choice in comparison to the other competing brands on offer. Guilt is a very understandable response to problems we feel partially responsible for. We have been encouraged to believe that we are the ones to change our ways, rather than something a political system or society needs to address. Understanding consumer behaviour is like putting a milelong headphone cable into a washing machine, throwing in a mile of dental floss then trying to unravel it all...with your feet. There has been much debate among psychologists regarding shame and guilt when analyzing consumer habits. There are however, fundamental differences in both emotions. Researchers have noted that “shame, centres on the self, whilst guilt, centres on behaviour”, (Marcus P., 2019. Psychoanalysis, Classic Social Psychology And Moral Living). I remember the first time I felt this sort of guilt. I was up late on a school night, watching “Kill it, Cook it, Eat it”. As the title suggests, the BBC programme explained (and visual-

ised) exactly how meat gets onto our plates. I was sitting on my bedroom floor, the darkness felt like a shroud around me. I remained cross-legged on the carpet beside the bed until the programme reached the slaughter of the animal. I shuffled across the prickly carpet on my knees, transfixed on the screen. I flinched as they hurried a squealing piglet onto the set. As the time came for the poor creature to be entered into the food chain, the pile carpet beneath me felt like a thousand needles piercing my skin. I felt it’s helplessness, and it was awful; I felt such shame and guilt at my ignorance that - from that moment on - I became a vegetarian, and I have never eaten meat since. I began to encourage my family to purchase free-range eggs to help better the lives of these intensively farmed animals. Despite the positive connotations with the ‘free’ in ‘free-range’, I would soon learn that the happy chicken running around an open field is not usually the case. In recent decades, more consideration has been placed on the green aspect of shopping. Superficially, at least, this strategy of ‘shopping for a better world’ (Porritt and Winner, 1988), has been very successful. There has been a rise in green products over the last decade, such as eco-friendly/ Dolphin -friendly/CFC free/cruelty-free and bio-degradable etc., as more and more companies look to compete with the demands of the guilty consumer.

In today’s western society, it is evident that there is now a huge market for niche ‘eco’ products. These menaces are deceptively displayed on the shelves to ease the mind of the consumer. As your hand reaches for the CFC free deodorant can with the wooden cap and biodegradable packaging, your conscience emits a sigh of relief, a peaceful protest on your part. You have successfully supported the continuance of a healthy ozone layer, right? Well, researchers have discovered that despite being CFC free, aerosol products contain petroleum-based chemicals that emit as much air pollution in the form of volatile organic compounds (or VOC’s) as the average car does (MacDonald et al 2018). So why the hell are we buying them?! Marketing gurus believe guilt can be an effective motivator when selecting products. Research suggests consumers reported anticipating future guilt if they failed to shop for green products and 84% consequently, chose fair trade options (Peloza, White and Shang, 2013). Depending on our own ethical or moral compass, we can support different practices by buying products which promote certain values. If we ‘support’ a product that falls below our own ethical standards, we will feel guilty, possibly also responsible, thereby, encouraging us to force a change of habit and so this need for green products successfully thrives. There are many types of consumption, for example, ethical, sustainable and ecological. Of course, we can opt for that CFC free deodorant can with the wooden cap and biodegradable packaging but, does it really make a difference? Green consumption, as progressive as it sounds, is still consumption. Just like the evidence that the earth is flat....completely ethical consumption does not exist. In the words of Florence and the Machine “The

World is a Beast of a Burden.” To be conscious of your everyday purchasing is a way of easing the weight on your shoulders. Bear in mind that dissecting everything you or others do is not healthy. Everything wrong with the world is not your fault and opting for greener products in a market bloodthirsty for your money really is the lesser of two evils. Living by example is the best you can do. Something which once had the potential to mobilise into activism has been reconstructed into a marketing tool as western society implements guilt to distract a minority of people through easy acts of commercial consumption; acts that engage people primarily as consumers rather than typical citizens. The older tactic of shaming has mutated into a capitalistic dream. This guilt which causes us grief requires a conscience. As individuals, we are more likely to respond effectively to guilt over larger groups. Companies and corporations lack a conscience and cannot feel guilty. That is why we need to blow the dust off the shaming tactics book in order to rehabilitate these faceless corporate giants. Fifty years after fracking was established in northern England, protesters successfully lobbied government officials to end their support of the controversial process of drilling down into the earth to retrieve shale oil. After 50 years of activity, the government were compelled to indefinitely ban the process thanks largely to the devoted campaigners highlighting the negligence on the government’s part. The more profitable method of guilt-free ‘green’ shopping isn’t creating much of a difference. Although harder, shame can influence entire industries and lead to large scale reform. So it’s time to leave the CFC free deodorant can on the shelf and start shaming.

4:44 by Jay Z Do I find it so hard

I apologize, our love was one for the ages and I contained

When I know in my heart

I’m letting you down everyday

And all this ratchet shit and we more expansive now

Letting you down everyday

Meant to cry and die alone in these mansions

Why do I keep on running away?

Or sleep with our back turned

Look, I apologize, often womanize

We’re supposed to vacay ‘til our backs burn

Took for my child to be born

We’re supposed to laugh ‘til our hearts stop

See through a woman’s eyes

And then we end a space with a dark stop

Took for these natural twins to believe in miracles

And let love light the way

Took me too long for this song

Like the men before me, I cut off my nose to spite my face

I don’t deserve you, I harass you out in Paris

I never wanted another woman to know

Please come back to Rome, you make it home

Something about me that you didn’t know

We talked for hours when you were on tour

I promised, I cried, I couldn’t hold

Please pick up the phone, pick up the phone

I suck at love, I think I need a do-over

Said: “Don’t embarrass me, “ instead of “Be mine”

I will be emotionally available if I invited you over

That was my proposal for us to go steady

I stew over what if you over my shit?

That was your 21st birthday, you mature faster than me

I’m never gonna treat you

I wasn’t ready, so I apologize

I’m never gonna treat you like I should

I’ve seen the innocence leave your eyes

And if my children knew, I don’t even know what I would

I still mourn this death, I apologize for all the stillborns

‘Cause I wasn’t present, your body wouldn’t accept it

If they ain’t look at me the same

I apologize to all the woman whom I

I would prob’ly die with all the shame

Toyed with you emotions because I was emotionless

“You did what with who?”

I apologize ‘cause at your best you are love

What good is a ménage à trois when you have a soulmate?

And because I fall short of what I say I’m all about

“You risked that for Blue?”

Your eyes leave with the soul that your body once housed

If I wasn’t a superhero in your face

And you stare blankly into space

My heart breaks for the day I had to explain my mistakes

Thinkin’ of all the time you wasted it, on all this basic shit

And the mask goes away and Santa Claus is fake

So I apologize

And you go online and see

I’m never gonna treat you

For Blue’s tooth, the tooth fairy didn’t pay

I’m never gonna treat you like I should