In celebration of Halloween and in preparation for the Season premiere of The Walking Dead, Jesse Weiss utilizes Social Contagion Theory to explain irrational group behavior. He uses the zombies as a metaphor for how frightening groups of people can be.
In July, millions of people mourned the death of horror movie icon George A. Romero. As the writer/director of some of the most seminal zombie movies of all time, including Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, Romero helped set in motion the zombie craze that has dominated books, television and film over the last decade. Zombies have always captivated me, dating back to the days when Saturday Night Live would be followed by a syndicated series called Creature Feature. Local television networks followed the comedy of SNL with the terror of classic horror movies. It was the first place I was exposed to monsters like the Wolfman, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Count Dracula. It was also the first time I saw Night of the Living Dead. It was black and white, it was low budget, it was slightly cheesy, but it was so terrifying. The idea that a dead friend could come back to life with the sole purpose of slowly stalking you so as to eat your flesh was somehow more frightening than a guy who turned into a small winged mammal or a puppy dog. Of all of the movie monsters that I became familiar with on those Saturday nights, zombies stuck with me.
Zombies are very interesting monsters. They lack the intelligence of a mad scientist. They do not have the strength of Frankenstein’s monster. They are not diabolically motivated like alien invaders. Alone, a single zombie is not very threatening at all. It is mindless, clumsy, lumbering and easily confused. Zombies a can do very little damage on their own but when they get together in a groups they become very dangerous. It is this quality that the popular AMC television series The Walking Dead emphasizes exceptionally well. Once the characters of the world represented in the series get over the realization that their friends and loved ones will reanimate and try to kill them, they begin to see the zombies as only a threat when they are in a group.
In this post, Jesse Weiss examines the way race and racism was used to market the recent “megafight” between Floyd Mayweather and Connor McGregor. He utilizes the concept of strategic racism to evaluate the rhetoric utilized to sell the fight to millions of Americans and discusses the potential implications.
I am a fan of combat sports. As a youth, I competed in martial arts and, after some time away, I have returned to it. My children practice and compete in Jiu Jitsu. There is something very appealing to me about one competitor testing their ability against another in an arena for all to see. I support local events and have even purchased many big fights in the past.
By all accounts, I am a fan. So, in June, when it was announced that boxing’s undefeated champion (Floyd Mayweather) was to battle the UFC’s most exciting fighter (Connor McGregor) and the worlds of boxing and mixed martial arts were set up to collide, I should have been excited.
Instead, I was puzzled. Both boxing and the mixed martial arts are combat sports but they are very different events with very different athletes. The skills in one do not always translate well into the arena of the other. As a fight fan, I was curious about how the promoters and participants would sell this fight. As the fight date drew closer, the marketing strategy became very clear.
The Tale of the Tape
Combat sports seem to bring the best and the worst out of its participants. The skills that can elevate a fighter to become the best in their proverbial “game” do not always result in that same fighter being the best human being. As such, neither of the participants in this “megafight” would be considered particularly good role models. Floyd Mayweather is, pound-for-pound, one of the best boxers in history, but he has also been arrested five times and convicted twice for domestic violence. Connor McGregor is a UFC champion in two weight classes at the same time, an honor only he has achieved, but he is also an unapologetic braggart with a penchant for profanity laden outbursts.
Using symbolic interaction theory as a basis, Jesse Weiss examines declining environmental sentiment in the United States and explains that personal and cultural denial of global warming are having an impact.
As the 47th anniversary of Earth Day approaches, questions of the effectiveness of nearly fifty years of environmentalism must be raised. While Americans know more about their relationship with the physical environment than any other generation, their support for sustainability seems to be waning. On March 25, 2017, President Trump signed an executive order overturning federal regulations limiting the coal power industry. This move came as no surprise to any casual observer of the previous presidential election, as rhetoric of the like was common from the then Republican candidate. For this, the candidate was wildly cheered and was subsequently elected president of the United States. This support is not particularly surprising considering the significant changes that American environmental sentiments have undergone in recent years.
According to research published in 2006, as many as 80 percent of Americans espoused pro-environmental values. A decade later, according to Gallup, the number of Americans who identified as environmentalist dipped to 42 percent. While opposition to environmentalism has existed since the 1980s, recent support for policies that are overtly anti-environment represent public sentiments that have evolved from backlash to outright denial. So, in a time when there is more information available about the harmful impact that human society has on the bio-physical world, why are people choosing to ignore it?
Denial, Not Just a River in Africa
Part of the explanation to this phenomenon can be found in what Stanley Cohen (2011) calls implicatory denial. According to Cohen, atrocities like global warming can elicit negative emotions such as fear, guilt, and helplessness. Rather than dealing with these feelings, many individuals choose to ignore and even deny that which is psychologically damaging. The impact of this individual denial is the creation of a larger culture of denial that exists in the United States. This has allowed many Americans to keep climate change at a distance. Lack of knowledge is no longer the issue, as access to scientific information about climate change is literally a click away. The standard of living in democratic societies like the United States has allowed many the luxury of simply choosing not to pay attention to the reality of the state of the physical environment. It seems as though many simply do not want to know.
In this essay, Jesse Weiss evaluates the symbolic representation of Marvel Comic’s Captain America as depicted in the recent film Captain America: Civil War. Drawing from the research of Peggy McIntosh, Weiss explains that Captain America can be seen as a symbol of white privilege.
Never has fiction seemed more representative of my reality than it is now. As voting results from the 2016 Presidential election came in, they indicated that working class white voters exerted themselves in support the Republican candidate. Making up almost one third of the electorate, whites without a college degree overwhelmingly voted Republican, representing a 14 percent increase from 2012. It could be argued that this election was meant to reassert white privileges that some may believe were lost in the last eight years of the Obama Administration. While some rejoice, others protest in what seems to be an ideological war of words, prompting many to make sense of “what is going on.” Is it possible that some of the answers lie in the pages of the comics and the movies based on them?
In 2006 and 2007, Marvel published a series of comic books that pitted two iconic heroes against each other in a battle of powers and ideologies. On one side was Captain America, the performance enhanced super soldier and defender of truth, justice, and the American way. On the other side was Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist with a technologically advanced suit of armor. The ideological clash between the two divided the Marvel Universe right down the middle and centered on who should have the power to regulate the actions of superheroes. Fast forward ten years and this comic book event came to be depicted in the Marvel Cinematic Universe in Captain America: Civil War.
Captain America: Civil War was widely praised and millions saw the movie in their local cinemas in the summer of 2016. I, like many others, not only saw the film in the theater but also when it was released on DVD later that fall. It was upon this second viewing that I came to see the plot of the film differently. Maybe it was the way that the 2016 Presidential election catapulted race back into the public consciousness or the fact that I just lectured about it in class, but I started to see Captain America (aka Steve Rogers) differently. The hero of the film may actually represent something that many experience but few discuss openly. Is it possible that Steve Rogers may not protect the interests of Americans, at least not all of Americans? Could it be that Captain America is actually a symbol of what sociologist Peggy McIntosh (1988) calls privilege?
This post applies Erving Goffman’s Dramaturgy to the recently released film Central Intelligence. In this essay, Jesse Weiss explores how humans perform roles for each other and draws connection to the film using lines of dialogue and character development.
Like millions of Americans, I like to watch movies on the weekend. Because I have young children, most of the movies I watch have long since left the theater and can be viewed from the comfort of my Tempurpedic bed. I do stream movies and have fully embraced movies on-demand but DVDs still hold some level of desirability for this Gen X-er.
On a recent trip to the Redbox to fetch a superhero movie that had been sold out for hours, I came home with a movie that, given my track record, I had low expectations of. After all, the movie starred a former professional wrestler whose biceps are bigger than his talent and an overexposed stand-up comedian who has not read a script that he said no to. At least I would get to see The Rock in a smedium baby blue unicorn t-shirt! While Central Intelligence will not receive any consideration for a gold statue in February, it was entertaining, funny, and surprisingly poignant.
As has been the case since I embarked down this long path of studying the world sociologically, I cannot help but to practice recreational sociology. I often apply my sociological imagination to the popular culture that I consume. This was certainly the case as I laughed out loud several times and was struck by one of the lines from the movie. Not only does the line serve as the overarching theme film, but it also speaks volumes about the human lived experience. At one point in the film, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, whose character is a former bullied nerd who grows up to be a CIA agent, says that “every man is the hero of his own story.” While this quote is directed at Kevin Hart, the big man on campus turned everyman; it could describe all of us.