Download - Jeremy Fernando & Kenny Png - On Happiness
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ON
HAPPINESSkenny png
& jeremyfernando
This book attempts to approach the notion of happinessand
specifically, the question of whether it is possible to be happy-
through the apparently paradoxical statement, I am happy
because I should be happy! This is a treatment of the possibility
of happiness without a reliance on the usual subjective notions
of freedom, and choice. Hence, this is an attempt to think the
impossibleperhaps even defend the undefendableand posit
that happiness is a state of otherness; one that seizes you, and
perhaps even ceases you.
What is called into question is the logic that you can choose
to be happythe hinge on which the entire self-help genre
revolves. Not only is this an anthropocentric gestureas if the
self is the centre of her/his worldbut more than that, it is alsoa totalitarian gesture: if there is a methodology to control ones
life, this also suggests that it is applicable regardless of situation;
and more than it, it is replicable, repeatable. And by extension,
all people are ultimately flattened into mere variations of the
same. Hence, what is at stake here is the singularity of the
person, of each person.
ONHAPPINESS
KENNYPNG&
JEREMYFERNANDO
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ON HAPPINESS
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2HAPPINESS IN SLAVERYTRENT REZNOR4FOREWORD.
OR A LETTER TO KENNY JOHNLOFTHOUSE 10HAPPINESS LIM LEECHING 12THE BOXES KENNY PNG34ON THE HEIGHTS OF DESPAIRE. M. CIORAN 38ON THE WINTEROF MY DISCONTENT; IN FOURAND A HALF GESTURES JEREMYFERNANDO 74 THE VOICES OFMARRAKESH ELIAS CANETTI 78AFTERWORD PETER VAN DE KAMP
84AIN'T IT FUN GENE O'CONNOR &PETER LAUGHTNER 88ABOUT THECONTRIBUTORS
First Edition
kenny png & jeremy fernando 2010
The Boxes
kenny png 2010
Published by
publisher
Address / Website
Distributed by
company
Address / Contact / Website
Illustrations
kenny png
Cover and book design
michelle andrea wan
With the support of
company
National Library Board SingaporeCataloguing in Publication Data
Png, Kenny, 19xxThe Boxes / by Kenny Png & Jeremy Fernando. Singapore : Polymath & Crust, 2010.p. cm.ISBNxx : xxx-xxx-xx-xxxx-x (pbk.)
I.Title.
PRxxxx.xxxSxxx xxxx OCNxxxxxxxxx
Printed in Singapore
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, or by any information storage and retrieval
system, without the written permission of the publisher.
No part of this play should be staged, by professionals or amateurs, or
used for recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, televi-
sion, film, video or sound taping or in electronic media, without the
written permission of _______.
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3
slave screams he thinks he knows what he wants
slave screams thinks he has something to say
slave screams he hears but doesnt want to listen
slave screams hes being beat into submission
dont open your eyes you wont like what you see
the devils of truth steal the souls of the free
dont open your eyes take it from me
i have found
you can find
happiness is slavery
slave screams he spends his life learning conformity
slave screams he claims he has his own identity
slave screams hes going to cause the system to fall
slave screams but hes glad to be chained to that wall
dont open your eyes you wont like what you see
the blind have been blessed with security
dont open your eyes take it from me
i have found
you can find
happiness is slavery
i dont know what i am i dont know where ive been
human junk just words and so much skin
stick my hands thru the cage of this endless routine
just some flesh caught in this big broken machine
HAPPINESS INSLAVERY
TRENTREZNOR
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5foreword. or a letter to kenny.
October 24th 1997 is the date Kenny Png has on his script as the date of
the first presentation of The Boxes. Its interesting, that. My memories
are a little blurred but in fact my impression is that the first presenta-
tion was for an A-level examination in (I think) July 1997. Of course
we are dealing in absurd uncertainties already. Is my memory reliable?
What isa presentationor, er, wasnt it a performance? Some things
I doremember clearlylike scolding Kenny that there is no such thing
as a rehearsaleverything is a performance, including life. Why do I
remember? Because I was a teacher and teachers repeat endlessly. They
have to. They deal with people like Kenny in their hundreds, every day
of their lives.
I digress already. If I am trying to capture the process of what hap-
pened so many years ago(Kennys request to me)then lets see what
was reallyhappening back in 1997 in VJC, in the TSD department, where
Kennys masterpiece was being hatched.
Well, me first. I (as teacher) was striving to hold together, inspire
as a team, liberate as artists, inculcate some sense of discipline in a rag-
ged and motley bunch of teenagers. Around 70, I think. Alone. Actu-
ally, thats the high-falutin version. I was actually trying to get grade
As in Theatre Studies & Drama (TSD) for as many of em as possible.
This is not the least of a million paradoxical absurdities. Without grade
As, TSD wouldnt have survived in the grade-production-line which
passed as education in those days. And they needed not only grade As in
TSDwhich in the pantheon of noble A-levels was generally despised,
mocked, scorned or deridedbut in all other subjects. Anything less was
FOREWORD.LETTER
KENNY.
JOHNLOFTHOUSE
OR A
TO
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6 on happiness 7foreword. or a letter to kenny.
takable air of frustrated energy, defiance, confusion, and intelligence?
Like screaming. Couldnt he just act or design or do movement?
Each student had to do what was called an individual skill. This in it-
self always seemed absurd to me since theatre is the most communal of
arts. But what happened far too often was that anyone with an ounce of
creativity opted for the bizarrely-named dramatic sequence. This was
a guarantee of endless time wasted, total frustration for all involved and,
usually, tears and disaster before the candidatethey were simulta-
neously examination candidates and performersopted at last for
a safe skill like acting. Thats the cynical realist in me speaking. In
actual fact, I loved the way the kids would launch fearlessly into a crea-
tive act with no background, no knowledge, no developed skills. It was
a quest for liberation, freedomhappiness, if you like. It was what made
me get up every day.
Anyway, Kenny opted for the dreaded dramatic sequenceas I
knew he would. Now he wants me to recall my memories of it. Kenny,
I have very fewmmmmbootsendless painted boxeslitter all over
the placePearlyn and Ian almost in tearsendless rehearsals endlessly
stopping and starting. Kenny, give me a break! I was shepherding 70-plus
students simultaneously through years one and two with sometimes 70-
plus pieces of theatre evolving at any one time. (The students did a group
piece as well as an individual one and churned out hundreds of essays a
month too.) But here goes.
1. Kenny was as stimulatingly creative then as I am sure as he is now.
failure. And so, the curiosity that had brought these kids to the subject
and which had become the passion that drove their every moment (to
the neglect of all other subjects, very often) was liable to prove their
downfall if someone (me) didnt insist on some sense of balance.
As for the students, well they were a bunch of bright, determined
kids who had washed up on the shores of TSD because it offered some
glimpse of creativity in a bleak and barren landscape. Waifs and strays,
often, they ranged from the frankly anarchic and rebellious via the lost
and confused to the clear-headed and ambitious. In fact most combined
all those features simultaneously. After all, they were only 17.
And finally, the course. A remarkable tribute to the far-sightedness
of a supposedly-blinkered Singapore system, TSD appeared in 1988, a
spearhead of the rather quaint Humanities programme launched then.
It combined the study of the history of theatre, the performance skills
central to theatre, and the theory of theatreall worked on or written-
about in terms of performance. Not for TSD the laboured What makes
Oedipus Rex a tragedy but Choose 2 contrasting scenes from OR and
show how you would stage them.I mention this as the ultimate absurd-
ity which lurks behind Kennys script: the fantastically-creative course
which produced (still does) much fine theatre, and a massive number of
creative artists, was itself bound by assessments. The creative thrived
because of the totalitarian grid imposed upon it. The proscriptions of the
syllabus inspired genuine artistic activity.
How did I feel then when Kenny appeared at my door with his ragged
and indecipherable bits of paper, mumbled ideas, and that quite unmis-
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8 on happiness 9foreword. or a letter to kenny.
I remember it with great affection. The examiner, the outside fas-
cist agency, bless him (he was actually a gentle hippy really) loved it too.
We often mentioned it in the years that followed. Its bold, innovative
however derivative it seems in retrospectand rooted in deep concern,
with an intuitive feel for those paradoxes which make Singapore what
it is. It represents the determination of the artist to control his own art
at leastconception, script, set and staging, sound track, performance,
production and direction. Of course, whether he really was in control, or
whether it made Kenny and his performers happy, let alone convince me
or the audience they were happyis easier to sort out in dry philosophy.
I am never sure if art has any meaning anyway, especially performance
art. What I can say with certainty is, it was a memorable experience.
Subjectively, that is.
I think.
If I remember alright.
In fact, let me put my cards on the table. The final result never wor-
ried me or, to be honest, really interested me. And I sense Kenny too is
not worried if the piece got an A or not. The process was all and thats
what has stayed with Kenny and influenced his life choices. And that
continues to make me happy in retirement.
At least, I think I am
Code forhe changed his mind or developed new ideas all the time.
2. His scriptshis hand-writing was atrociouswere an indecipher-
able and tatty work in progress. I never had a clear view of what was
what til the end. Code forit was chaotic.
3. Any verbal interaction with Kenny was (and is?) liable to veer off into
energetic, powerful side-alleys, often littered with non-sequiturs, or
high-speed and unfinished sentences. Like talking to a machine-gun.
Code forI had little idea what he was talking about. And often, nor
did he, that much was clear.
4. Kenny was rebellious and anarchic and restless. Code forhis input
was inconsistent, often hidden or obscure, or even just, er absent.
5. Kenny was a ruthless dictator of a director who terrorized his crew
and performers. Code foronce in the theatre space, it was clear he
knew what he wanted. And would get it at any cost.
The piece itself. Was fantastic. It speaks for itself. Read it. A remark-
able piece of original work, written and performed, by 17-18 year-olds for
a public examination. Unfortunately, we are at the core of the ultimate
paradox. A dead script is far from that wonderful, live ephemeral mo-
ment, when one sits in the theatre with a wonderful, live group of human
beings, who have come together at one unique moment in time. Who
gasp, open their eyes wide, laugh, cryor walk out. No-one walked out.
I think they were intrigued, bewildered, shocked, maybe. Some maybe
even a little worried, scared even, looking over their shoulders? This was
Singapore 1997 after all, and installation art had a heavy history.
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11
The tart dream
envelopes
the gateway
shrouded from
plain sighting
Stretched by the
manners of
felicitous
web weave borne
down by the
weight of its
own making
Not daring
a smile it
yet contends
Holding up
pillars, walls
HAPPINESSLIM LEE
CHING
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THEBOXESKENNY
PNG
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3939
2424
416416
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PROLOGUE
the boxes 17
Dim lights. The stage has 16 boxes of different sizesall blacksuspend-
ed overhead. Stage is empty except for a character down centre-stage.
He has a black box for a head and he is wearing a neat and uniformly col-
oured suit, tie, and trousers. In his hands is another black box. He starts
moving as lights come up. He moves in a straight mechanical manner
turning at right angles towards the centre of the stage; in fact he is walk-
ing in squares around the centre of the stage to reach it. Once he reaches
the centre of the stage, he puts down the black box he is holding in the
centre of the stage. The centre of the stage is also the centre of a 3 me-
tre by 3 metre invisible square which is mathematically. Once he puts
down the box, he starts moving back to his starting position via the exact
steps he came by. He will move off-stage after reaching the position. As
he moves off-stage, two characters in all-black with tight fitting boxes
around their bodiesand a shoe on their headsstart moving out of the
stage-wings, one from each side to totally opposite and reflective posi-
tions on the invisible square; in-line with the black box, and the centre of
the stage. The characters are bare-footed and each has a number on their
boxes: the character on the right has the number 2424, and the one on
the left has the number 3939. The two characters move in very straight
and sharp mechanical waysthey do not bend their knees, or move any
part of their bodies intentionally except for their feet. Once they reach
their positions, they give a cry and start a movement sequence. One
movement sequence consists of the two characters moving one round
around the square in an anti- clockwise direction. They exclaim happy!
with each step and give a mechanical smile every five steps. The char-
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on happiness1818
acters faces are frozen into this smile whenever they are not moving.
Their movements are synchronised and follow the beat of the sound-
track, which is a cacophony of noise with a regular beat; the sound is
accompanied by flashing lights of green, blue, and orange, which stop
whenever each movement sequence is over, and re-start when the se-
quence begins againall of this to give a sense of confused lighting.
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the boxes 21
1
5
10
15
20
25
They do a movement sequence.
2424 I am happy because I should be happy!
3939 I am happy because I should be happy!
both We are happy because we should be happy!
They repeat a movement sequence.
3939 Are you sure we are wearing our shoe the right
way?
2424 We are wearing our shoe the right way because
it should be the way.
3939 Well it might be better if we wear our
shoe vertically on our heads.
2424 No! Wear our shoe horizontally because it is
the right way because it should be the way
both We are wearing our shoe the right way because
it should be the way. We are happy because we
should be happy!
They repeat a movement sequence.
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on happiness22
1
5
10
15
20
25
the boxes 23
1
5
10
15
20
25
3939 Like maybe some blue boxes for instance: we
might look better.
2424 No! We will look like freaks. We wear boxes
of this colour to look normal because it should
be the way; besides any other colour would
make us look indecent.
both We wear boxes of this colour to look normal
and decent because it should be the way. We
are happy because we should be happy!
They repeat a movement sequence.
3939 Oh, have you realised that we can move our
arms and knees too?
2424 Dont do that! It should not be the way.
3939 Why???
2424 Thats because we must have the discipline not
to move our arms and knees so that we can
fulfil the greater purpose in life.
3939 Which is?
3939 Err isnt it rather meaningless to move in
this way. I have a feeling that even though we
have moved so much we are still not far from
where we started.
2424 Nonsense! We have come a long way from
where we came because we move in this way
which is the right way because it should be the
way.
3939 but after coming such a long way in this way
we dont seem to have gotten anywhere anyway.
2424 No! We move in this way because it should
be the way and we have come a long way and
we are happy because we should be happy.
both We move in this way because it should be the
way. We are happy because we should be
happy!
They repeat a movement sequence.
3939 Cant we wear something else besides this?
2424 Like??
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on happiness24
1
5
10
15
20
25
the boxes 25
1
5
10
15
20
25
3939 What about this?
2424 No, there is no beat to it.
3939 Yes, but it makes you feel weirdas if you
really want to move to it.
3939starts moving on his toes, on the spot, going
around in circles.
2424 What are you doing? Stop! I dont think this
should be the way.
3939 Why? There is no beat to move to now anyway
besides, it feels real good.
2424 Really?
After some hesitation, 2424starts to move like
3939too. Soon they get faster and faster, in total
contrast to the slow-moving tune.
3939 (Shaking his head)Wheeeeeeee !
2424 (Shaking his head)Wheeeeeeee !
Suddenly the movement music comes back on.
2424 being not able to move our arms and knees
for the rest of our lives.
3939 Yes!!!
both We do not move our arms and knees even
though we can because it should be the way.
We are happy because we should be happy!
They continue with another movement
sequence. However, half-way through, the
background music is abruptly broken off
and the lights also stop flashing. 2424stops
moving, and 3939stops a few steps later.
3939 Why are we not moving?
2424 Because there is no beat to move to.
3939 Cant we just move on without the beat?
2424 No, it should not be the way.
Soothing music is piped in.
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on happiness26
1
5
10
15
20
25
2424 Oh no!
3939 Oh no!
They immediately try to go back to their
synchronised movements but they are discordant.
Then2424loses his balance and falls on the
floor, whirring his feet.
3939 Now look what you have doneyou have
broken the order!!
2424 Its not my faultcan you help me please?
3939 No! This should not be the wayyou dont
deserve help.
2424 Please help me.
3939: Never, you rebel! REBEL! REBEL! REBEL!
REBEL!
A third character exactly like them but with the
number 416416appears from stage-right and
occupies 2424s position.
416416 I am happy because I should be happy!
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the boxes 29
3939moves back to his original position on
stage-left.
3939 I am happy because I should be happy!
both We are happy because we should be happy!
They start a movement sequence, ignoring 2424
who is still whirring his feet. However this
time as they are moving, the sound of crashing
boxes is heard loudly and the flashing lights are
disrupted regularly; with flashes of shadows on
the 16 suspended boxes. Then everything (sound
and lights) is turned off abruptly save the sound
of the characters going Happy! which ends
after four repetitions.
Curtain.
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the boxes 31
THE BOXES was first presented at the LT AVA of the Victoria
Junior College, 20 Marine Vista, Singapore, on 24 October, 1997.
They play was directed by Kenny Png, who also scored the original
soundtrack.
The cast was as follows:
2424 : Kenny Png
3939 : Pearlyn Quan
416416 : Ian Choo
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32 on happiness 33
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35
The passion for the absurd can grow only in a man who has exhausted
everything, yet is still capable of undergoing awesome transfigurations.
ON THEHEIGHTSDESPAIR
E.M.CIORAN
OF
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39on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
1 Franz Kafka. (1998). The Trial. pp.223.
Merde
That was the sound from behind the door. Or at least that was what
weIremember. A judging sound, the sound of judgement: after all,
Kenny Png had to submit himself, be judged, before the law. Which is
not to say that was definitely what happened: after all, one can never be
definitive about such things, especially when they are based on memo-
ry. One has to then approachkeeping in mind the register that one is
called to such thingswith a certain amount of reasonable doubt.
One has to note here that this was a piece that was written for two
primary reasons: to be seen by peers; and also to be judged by a certain
examiner, by one who knew nothing of the persons involved in the piece,
nor the piece itself, one who was aptly termed an external examiner.
And here it is difficult to ignore the tropes of dissection and dismember-
ing, as if an autopsy was to be performed, on not only the performance,
but the performers as well.
Here, if we allow ourselves to be sensitive, it is not difficult to hear
the register of K, of Kafka, and of The Trial, in particular where K is
brought before a power that he neither knowsand can never know
nor can see, but which clearly has effects on him. Hence, at best, all K
can do is to guess, to posit, what is required of him. It is this positing that
is captured in the statement of the priest in the cathedral when he says
to K, no you dont have to consider everything true, you just have to
consider it necessary.1This is due to the fact that K is faced with a law
that he must approach, and which has power of judgment over him, but
ON THEWINTER
OF MY DISCONTENT;HAPPINESSIN
4JEREMYFERNANDO
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40 on happiness 41on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
4 ibid. pp.221.5 ibid. pp.215.6 ibid. pp.216.
remain; it is of his own free will that he does. This opens the possibility
that it is the man who is free; unlike the doorkeeper who is captive to
his duty, is captive to the Law, as not only has he to wait for the man to
appear, but must also wait there till he decides to leave: in this sense, it
is the executer of the Law who is most bound to it. As the priest explains
to K,
the man is in fact free: he can go wherever he wishes, the entrance
to the Law alone is denied to him, and this only by one person,
the doorkeeper. If he sits on the stool at the side of the door and
spends the rest of his life there, he does so of his own free will; the
story mentions no element of force. The doorkeeper, on the other
hand, is bound to his post by his office; he is not permitted to go
elsewhere outside, but to all appearances he is not permitted to
go inside either, even if he wishes to.4
Even as the doorkeeper is bound to the Law, it is not as if he knows
what the Law is: one can assume that he hasnt been too far into the
LawIm only the lowest doorkeeper the mere sight of the third is
more than even I can bear5and moreover, it is the man who in the
darkness now sees a radiance that streams forth inextinguishably from
the door of the Law6; nothing is said of whether the doorkeeper sees this
light. This suggests that both the man and the doorkeeper, regardless of
whether they are there by choice or by duty, are affected by a power that
2 ibid. pp.215.3 ibid. pp.216.
at the same time, is a law that is always hidden from him. And it is this
that the priest attempts to highlight to him through the famous parable
of the Law:
Before the Law stands a doorkeeper. A man from the country
comes to this doorkeeper and requests admittance to the Law.
But the doorkeeper says that he cant grant him admittance now.
The man thinks it over and then asks if hell be allowed to enter
later. Its possible, says the doorkeeper, but not now.2
It is not that the manor Kis not allowed into the Law, not allowed
to see what it is that is judging him, but that he is not allowed to at this
very moment. As there is no time stipulation to but not now, it is not
that the doorkeeper is lying to him, but that the moment of admittance
is deferred, not necessarily eternally, but perhaps for just one moment
longer than the life of the man. However, it is not as if the Law has no
effect on their lives: on the contrary the man from the country waits out-
side the doorway till the end of his life, and Ks trial fully occupies his
daily existence. In other words both of them are completely consumed
by the Law, by a force that they do notand cannotsee or comprehend,
by a force that they remain completely blind to.
Even though the Law is a force that affects them, has an effect on
them, it is not as though they are compelled to be before it: after all, the
man decides that he would prefer to wait. 3At no point is he forced to
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42 on happiness 43on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
at best whether it is a correct understanding, which suggests that every
misunderstanding is not only potentially a correct understanding; but
that it is impossible to distinguish between them in the first place. One
might even posit that within every understanding lies a misunderstand-
ing. It is for this reason that even the executer of the Law remains blind
to it: all the doorkeeper is doing is carrying out the Law in that part icular
situation, the situation of the Law being solely for you; in other words,
the only knowledge that the executer of the Law has is of its effects; the
only time that the executer knows of the Law is at the very moment (s)
he is executing it.
But it is not as if our own K is unaware of this; of the absurdity of
standing before a Law he is not privy tobeing judged by a judge undoing
the very Law he is judging by, the very Law that allows him to judge in the
first place. After all, he is constantly reminding us that, I am happy, be-
cause I should be happy! And at that point, I recall many in the audience
jumping to the conclusion that he must have been writing a commen-
tary on the state, on politics, on public policy. Of course there were all
completely missing the point: what was at stake was far more than mere
politics; what was at play was the very notion of happiness itself. And
more precisely, the absurdity of the relationality between happiness and
choice. Here perhaps it might be helpful to take a strange detourto tem-
porarily defer a direct approach to the relationalityand look through
the lens of politics itself, in order to open a register between freedom and
happiness.
7 ibid. pp.217.8 ibi d. pp.223.9 ibi d. pp.219.
is beyond their comprehension; even the radiance that streams forth is
only seen at the end; only now does he see this light. And even though
the man sees this light, this radiance emanating from within the door,
within the Law, he never knows what it means, or even what the light is.
The unknowability of the Law becomes even more curious if we take
into account the fact that no one else could gain admittance here, be-
cause this entrance was meant solely for you.7This suggests that it is a
personalized Law and this opens the register of the paradox that every
lawthat the Law itselffaces: in order for something to be Law, it has
to have a certain universality, in that it is applicable to everyone with-
out distinction or discrimination; however each application of the Law
is singular, unique, and situational. Hence, at best, the Law can only be
knownif that term can even be used in the first placeat the very mo-
ment in which it is applied; to the man, to K, to you: the Law can only be
glimpsed by the effects it has on one, but can never be known as such.
This is precisely why the priest tells K, you dont have to consider eve-
rything as true, you just have to consider it as necessary. For it is not
so much that one cannot tell between what is true or not (which is the
misunderstanding that K has in thinking that lies are made into a uni-
versal system8) but more radically that each truthand by extension
each lieis only provisional, situational, singular. It is the situationality
of the Law, of each positing of the Law, that allows the commentators
[to] tell us: the correct understanding of a matter and misunderstand-
ing the matter are not mutually exclusive.9In fact, one can only guess
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46 on happiness 47on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
In a democracy, the subject has to assume complete responsibility for
both her/his actions and also that of the state. The freedom of the subject
is closely related to the choice(s) that is presented to the subject; and in
fact, the point of ultimate freedom, expression of ones will and choice,
comes at the moment of election. At each election, the subject has three
options: elect a particular candidate or party, spoil the vote, or refuse to
vote. But whichever option the subject chooses, (s)he has already agreed
to accept the outcome of the election. This, for instance, makes all claims
to Bushs illegal election moot the moment the results were officially an-
nounced; one can challenge them up to the point they are announced, but
no longer after. More crucially, the subject has to take responsibility for
the outcome. In effect, whether or not you elected that particular person/
party, you are responsible for her/his/their actions. By extension, this
means that whatever legislation is passed by those elected to officeno
matter how brutal or disagreeable they may beis effectively passed by
the subject(s) on themselves.
This ironic lack of freedom in democracy is due to the attempt at bridg-
ing the gap between the subject and the other; by attempting to know the
other too well. By having a direct hand in choosing ones own leaders,
one is in effect having a stake in the leadership, whilst being governed by
that same leadership. Hence, there is no longer a gap, a space, to complain
about that same leadership; after all, you were the one who chose it.
And here we momentarily turn to Slavoj iekpotentially a strange
source when attempting to examine a notion like happinesswho con-
In a Fascist state, the subject is denied all freedom; all power lies
in the hand of the one absolute leaderin this sense, (s)he plays the
role of the (Absolute) Other, on which everything depends. The sub-
ject is merely a part of the whole body (in the form of the state): this
is the corporatisation of the state and its subjects. Hence, all action of
the subject is a result of the Leader: this is why Adolf Eichmanns de-
fense in Jerusalem, when he claimed that he was innocent as he was
merely following the orders of the Fhrer, is perversely correct. Ironi-
cally, this absolute enslavement also ensures the absolute freedom
of the subject; for there is nothing that the subject can responsible
for. (S)he is merely a cog in the entire body, and as such, the subject is
not responsible for anything, even her/him self. So even if the subject
is punished by the law for something in a Fascist state, it is not that
(s)he is guilty for doingor not doingsomething, for one can only be
guilty if one is responsible for it, but the fact that the Leader deems her/
him so. The fact that the private and the public spheres are collapsed en-
sures the true freedom of the self; one is accountable only to the self and
not to any external force.
In a Totalitarian statethe Soviet Union under Stalin for instance
the other takes the form of the Party. In this manner, once again there is
no freedom for the subject as everything is determined by the Party; all
responsibility comes under, and is of, the Party. Hence, the subject can
always blame the Party for anything, even bad weather. Once again, a per-
verse form of freedom for the subject can be found in this situation.
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48 on happiness 49on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
too far away, not too close, This fragile balance was disturbedby
what? By desire precisely. Desire was the force that compelled the
people to move onand end up in a system in which the great ma-
jority are definitely less happy.10
And it is this absurd gap between absolute freedom of choice, and
the act of choosing, that K opens: for if we were only ever satisfied with
real choices, all commercialism, and advertising would fail. Even though
shaving cream is essentially the same, we are only satisfied when we get
to choose between 20 variations; and this is what we want: sterilized,
safe, options, alternatives. But instead of complaining about the illusory
nature of choice, what K does is to plunge head on into the illusion; and
here we awaken another spectre, that of the Beckettian I cannot choose,
but I must choose.
This though, is a reconstitution of choice, of the act of choosing itself;
for it is no longer a choice that is purely of the self, but rather a choosing
that is always already in relation with what is out there, with a certain
thrownessinto a situation. In other wordsand here do we have much
choice but to speak in words that are other to usthis is a choice that
is in response to the call from elsewhere, to a call from the other. Here,
perhaps it may be helpful to allow ourselves a momentary turn to Wern-
er Hamacher, and his response to Peter Connor, where he meditates on
what a call entails, on what it means to be called:
10Slavoj iek. (2003). The Puppet and the Dwarf: the Perverse Core of Christianity . pp.42.
The above paragraphs on Fascism, Totalitarianism and Democracy were inspired by aconversation with iek on 8 August, 2004 in Saas Fee, Switzerland.
tends that happiness lies in the gap between the ability to choose, and the
actual consequences of real choice. He asks:
When exactly can people be said to be happy? In a country like
Czechoslovakia in the late 1970s and 1980s, people were, in a way,
actually happy: three fundamental conditions of happiness were
fulfilled. Their material needs were basically satisfiednot too
satisfied, since the excess of consumption can in itself generate
unhappiness. It is good to experience a brief shortage of some
goods on the market from time to time (no coffee for a couple of
days, then no beef, then no TV sets): these brief periods of shortage
functioned as exceptions that reminded people that they should
be glad that these goods were generally availableif everything
is available all the time, people take this availability as an evident
fact of life, and no longer appreciate their luck. So life went on in
a regular and predictable way, without any great efforts or shocks;
one was allowed to withdraw into ones private niche. A second
extremely important feature: there was the Other (the Party) to
blame for everything that went wrong, so that one did no feel re-
ally responsibleif there was a temporary shortage of some goods,
even if stormy weather caused great damage, it was their fault.
And last, but not least, there was an Other Place (the consumerist
West) about which one was allowed to dream; and one could even
visit it sometimesthis place was at just the right distance: not
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50 on happiness 51on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
12Jacques Derrida. (1998).Right of Inspection. pp.1.13 ibid. pp.1.14ibid. pp.1.
that this communion is one that is without consumption, without sub-
sumption; the other remains wholly other to ourself, even as we attempt
to momentarily get in touch.
Perhaps it is this touching that we have to examine, a touching that is
clearly an actwe must after all attempt to touch somethingbut an act
that is also always already exterior to us, to ourselves, to all notions of the
self. And here, as we are attempting to read, we must never forget that we
are reading a play, for even though we are free to read, we are always al-
ready governed by the laws of reading, and the rules that come with each
genre. As Jacques Derrida reminds us time and time again, even though
the reader has a right to see, and that it takes a certain skill to see,
in that it is not a random, purely arbitrary act, (s)he is always already
bound by a law of seeing. After all, you have the authority to tell your-
self these stories but you cannot gain access to the squares of that other
one. You are free but there are rules.12In this way, reading, and seeing, is
a negotiation between the reader and the text. One is free within a cer-
tain set of rulesafter all one is always already bound by grammarand
ones reading is an interjection, an interplay between the reader and the
text within the rules laid out, the rules before which both the reader and
the text must stand; there is a law that assigns the right of inspection,
you must observe these rules that in turn keep you under surveillance.13
In order to play the gamethe game of seeing, the game of readingyou
have no choice but to remain within these limits, this frame, the frame-
work of these frames 14And more than this, a text gives both you and
11Werner Hamacher. Interventions. in Qui Parle: Journal of Literary Studies 1, no. 2 , Spring 1987:37-42. italicsfrom source.
Why is the call thought of as something which, rather than taken,
taken down, or taken inbe it from a specific agent, subject, prin-
ciple, preferably a moral onewill begiven? And if each call which
issues is destined to make demands on the one who is called (but
this is also questionable), is it already settled that I will hear,
that I will hear this call and hear it as one destined for me? Is it
not rather the case that the minimal condition to be able to hear
something as something lies in my comprehending it neither as
destined for me nor as somehow oriented toward someone else?
Because I would not need to hear it in the first place if the source
and destination of the call, of the call as call, were already certain
and determined. Following the logic of calling up, of the call and
along with that the logic of demand, of obligation, of law, no call
can reach its addressee simply as itself, and each hearing is con-
summated in the realm of the possibility not so much of hearing as
being able to listen up by ceasing to hear. Hearing ceases. It listens
to a noise, a sound, a call; and so hearing always ceases hearing,
because it could not let itself be determined other than as hearing,
to hearing any further. Hearing ceases. Always. Listen11
And as Hamacher teaches us, listening is the openness to the possibil-
ity of the other, of the potentiality of being in communicationin com-
munionwith the other, an objectless other, an other that might be com-
pletely other to itself. It is this objectlessness of the other that ensures
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54 on happiness 55on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
by the Law. It is only when something is illegitimate that the author-
ity of a person is required in order to enact it. In other words, author-
ity is the very undoing of the Law itself. For instance, a death-sentence
can only be pardoned by the authority of the sovereign. In doing so
(s)he is going against the legal system which sentenced the person to
death; the same legal system that upholds her/his very sovereignty. How-
ever, a foregrounding of the illegitimacy of the sovereign would not only
shatter the illusion, but also bring about the collapse of the entire system.
This is the lesson of The Emperors New Clothes: the shock and horror
of the crowd was not in the fact that the little child pointed out that the
Emperor was naked (who didnt already know that), but in foregrounding
the absurdity of the situation (he is only the Emperor because everyone
deems him to be so; and they are subjects because he is Emperor). The
child was told to be quiet precisely because what was highlighted was
the fact that the people were making themselves subservient; they were
subjected by their own act of subjugation, and moreover in the face of
absolute lack of evidence that the man standing in front of them was the
Emperor. What was at stake though was not just the status of the Em-
peror himself, but the very empire itself; for if the illusory state of his
authority is exposed, then the entire kingdom comes crashing down. And
hence, the child was silenced not to protect the Emperor from the shame
of being naked, but more pertinently to protect the secret that his author-
ity rested on nothing: he was only Emperor because he was in a lineage
that was recognized by his subjects; he was sovereign not because he was
15ibid. pp.2.
itself (through its characters, through the outcome of its own narrative),
a right to look, the simple right to look or to appropriate with the
gaze, but it denies you that right at the same time: by means of its
very apparatus it retains that authority, keeping for itself the right
of inspection over whatever discourses you might like to put forth
or whatever yarns you might spin about it, and that in fact comes
to mind before your eyes.15
It is in this way that every seeing reveals and conceals at the same
time; every seeing always already involves a certain inability to see, an
inability to know. In effect every reading is a positing, taking a position,
making a choice, which comes with a moment of madness, of blindness.
Otherwise, all one is doing is re-writing the text; otherwise, one might
as well not be reading at all. And here, once again, the spectre of Kafka
returns to us, whispering to us that one can never know the law which
one stands before.
At this point, we might want to take yet another detour, and al-
ter the perspective of the thinking, and perhaps direct it onto K him-
selfand here open the register of authorship. One can detect an echo
of the author that can be heard in authority; as if the writer of the sit-
uation can play at being God; all-seeing, and in full-control. The trou-
ble with authority is that it is always already illegitimate. For if some-
thing is legitimate, access to it would be open to everyonegoverned
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56 on happiness 57on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
gesture of acknowledging that the secret is a secret, that he is indeed Ra.
Perhaps this is the lesson of Andy Warhol. It was not so much the
reproduction itself that is the art, but the very gesture of recognizing
the objects to be reproduced. There is nothing to an old pair of shoes ly-
ing around; it is van Goghs realization of the possibilities in those very
shoesthe singularity of the situationthat momentarily elevates it to
the realm of art. In this sense, one can posit that both Warhol and van
Gogh were authors at that moment of recognition; through their respec-
tive media, both of them create a singularity by arresting a particular
moment in time. And since it is a singular moment, it is in some sense
always also an original gesture; one that has never happened before, and
one that is also non-repeatable. In this manner, one can posit that the
artistic gesture is the reification of time itself: the concretisation of a mo-
ment through a medium, as if that moment was real; in other words, the
authoring of a moment.
The irony though is that every gesture is always already a reproduced
gesture. After all, regardless of medium, one is capturing a moment, and
more precisely, a moment that has passed. In this sense, all art is a recon-
stitution of memory. This is not to say that every act of memory is art; or
that every attempt to capture memory is art. Far from it.
Perhaps here one might consider the status of forgetting. In order to
do so, we should momentarily stop and consider what it means to say I
forgot. One can always posit that I forgot is a performative statement:
anyone who has been through a school system has used this umpteen
a singular one, but because he was in a series of ones. In fact, if he was
truly new and original, no one would recognize him, and he would not be
sovereign, barring a war-like situation where a new Emperor enforced
his authority over people, subjugated a new group. However, even in that
situation, he is only Emperor when his subjects finally recognize him.
Hence, all authority is only as such due to the sovereign being a repro-
duction of all the sovereigns before her/him; and not the person as such.
However, the very source of that authority itself, the reason for a pact
between the Emperor and his subjects, remains a tautological premise
(he is Emperor because the people are subjects; they are subjects because
there is an Emperor), remains outside of reason, remains unknown; re-
mains a secret.
In some way, the question that remains sounds paradoxical: if we
posit that it is important that the secret is protected, how is it a secret, if
everyone already knows what the secret is?
Here perhaps, we need to turn to the very notion of secrets them-
selves. And to do so, let us momentarily draw upon an old tale. When Isis
poisoned Ra, she promised him the antidote in exchange for his secret
name, which was the source of all his power. And he whispered into her
heart, and she felt herself filled with all the knowledge and wisdom of
Ra; all the power that came with his nameAmen-Ra. However, it was
not as if no one else knew it; in fact everyone knows that his name is Ra.
What this shows is that secrets rarely lie in the content (after all, Amen
is merely an affirmation), but in knowing that something is secret, in the
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62 on happiness 63on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
16This was in reference to the utopian ideal of the Leninist revolution and can be found in Slavojiek. A Plea for Leninist Intolerance inCritical Inquiry. Winter 2000.
www.uchicago.edu/research/jnl-crit-inq/v28/v28n2.iek.html (italics from source).
yet another seguea back-track evenas if it was possible to do so, and
re-enter the realm of the polis for a moment, and consider the instance of
revolutions. Here, we return to Slavoj iekthis time calling on him as
one of the thinkers of modern day revolutionswho never lets us forget:
In a proper revolutionary breakthrough, the utopian future is nei-
ther simply fully realized, present, nor simply evoked as a distant
promise that justifies present violence. It is rather as if, in a unique
suspension of temporality, in the short circuit between the present
and the future, we areas if by Gracefor a brief time allowed to
act as if the utopian future were (not yet fully here, but) already
at hand, just there to be grabbed. Revolution is not experienced
as a present hardship we have to endure for the happiness and
freedom of the future generations but as the present hardship
over which this future happiness and freedom already cast their
shadow-in it, we already are free while fighting for freedom, we
already are happy while fighting for happiness, no matter how
difficult the circumstances. Revolution is not a Merleau-Pontyan
wager, an act suspended in the futur anterieur , to be legitimized
or delegitimized by the long term outcome of the present acts; it
is as it were its own ontological proof, an immediate index of its
own truth.16
And it is this as if that remains crucial to us: we must act as if we
(or wrong) with any certainty. Hence, art lies in its praxis, in each attempt
at making something, doing something, practicing ones craft; at best, all
that can be said is that art is a gesture towards the possibility of art. More
than that, whether something ever reaches the realm of arta reproduc-
tion that is not just a reproductionor remains just another reproduc-
tionnot that there is any logical difference between the twoalways
already remains a secret from us, perhaps until it happens. And when
it does, its reason might still remain unknown to us, which means that
all attempts to reproduce the gesture might only remain a reproduction.
In other words, art is nothing more than a gesture. And more than
that, since art always already remains potentially exterior to the person,
there are no artists; there is only the possibility of the gesture.
One that is made in blindness to everything but the possibility of art
itself.
I am happy!in blindness to everything, but the possibility of hap-
piness itself.
Which is why, there always already had to be two of them; even as
they are walking around in circles, declaring their happinessfor hap-
piness could not reside in just a single, total, being. As K is teaching us,
happiness is always already there; perhaps the only reason we are un-
able to see it is because it is there, but just not yet. However, this is not a
nihilistic gesture, one aimed at nothingness, for that would be too sure,
too certain, too totalising, but rather a gesture of hope, a gesture of pos-
sibility, potentiality. And here for a moment, it might be strange to make
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66 on happiness 67on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
it feels real goodall hell breaks loose. This of course does not mean
that one has to be forever separate from everyone else, from everything;
but rather, even in a joining, a conjoining, one always already remains
singular. In this very sense, the phrase when two become one has to be
read ironically; and what else would be this gap, this distance, but that of
an ironic distance.
Perhaps here, we might as well reverse all the way to the beginning;
and start again. This is after all, one of the possible readings of a revolu-
tion; going round and round in circles. And listen to another register of
merde; that of Ubu Roi. More preciselyif we can ever even use that
notion when speaking of Ubu Roiwe need to open our receptors to his
laughter, the great guffaw of the King, a King very much unlike the naked
one we spoke of earlier. For this king is one that takes his kingshipand
himselfwith an absurd level of seriousness, so seriously that we have no
choice but to take him ironically, at a distance; otherwise we either have
absolutely no way of fathoming anything, or we understand nothing by
attempting to understand everything. Hence, what we have to do is to ap-
proach Ubu Roi at a distance, allow for the fact that he is kingwhatever
that even begins to meanand take everything he says, and does, with
belief and un-belief at the same time. For there is no referentiality to the
words of this king; all he is doing is saying, all he is doing is speaking: all
he is doing is naming at the moment he names.
Isnt that though the nature of all names? Singular as there is only one
thing, at one moment in time, that is being named; multiple as no name is
are able to do so. This suggests that each time we act, there is no way
in which we will know whether it is a correct or wrong actin other
words, we will never have the comfort of certainty. Each time we act is its
own ontological proof, with no hope of reference or precedence: each
act is singular, and irreducibly different from every other act. But at the
same time, we can only know that something is irreducibly different in
the presence of another; which suggests that each actand by extension,
each personto borrow Jean-Luc Nancys beautiful formulation, is al-
ways already singular-plural.
And if one is singular, but always already in relation to all others, this
suggests that happiness cannot be vested in the self; despite all the claims
by self-help gurus, and television psychologists, one cannot will oneself
to be happy. But as our friend K tells us over and over again, we can only
be happy because we should be happy. All the self can do is listenand
open oneself up to the possibility of being happy.
Here, we might begin to posit that happiness lies in the dash between
the singular and the plural; after all, if happiness is nothing but the open-
ness to the possibility of happiness, this suggests that it is both always
already there, and to come; all one can do is stand before it. But at the
same time, as we have opened in the register of maintaining the gapthe
proper distance as it werebetween choosing and real choice, we must
allow the dash to keep the singular and the plural apart. As K demonstrat-
ed to us, the moment the two of them come togetherthe moment 3939
and 2424 do something because they want to, choose to do something as
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68 on happiness 69on the winter of my discontent; in four & a half gestures
ECHOES
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Trans.). London: New Left Books.
Badiou, Alain. (2002).Ethics: an Essay on the Understanding of Evil.(Peter
Hallward, Trans.). London: Verso.
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Trans.). Berkeley: University of California Press.
Bataille, Georges. (1985). Visions of Excess: Sel ected Writings, 1927-1939. (Allan
Stoekl, Trans.). Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
_______________. (2001).LAbbe C.(Philip A. Facey, Trans.). London: Marion
Boyars.
Baudrillard, Jean. (1988). The Ecstasy of Communication.(Caroline Schutze,
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_____________. (2007).In the Shadow of the Silent Majorities.(Paul Foss,
John Johnston, Paul Patton, & Andrew Berardini, Trans.). Los Angeles:
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_____________. (2007). Symbolic Exchange and Death.(Iain Hamilton Grant,
Trans.). London: Sage Publications.
Beckett, Samuel. (2006). Waiting for Godot.London: Faber an d Faber.
______________. (2006).Endgame.London: Faber an d Faber.
Blanchot, Maurice. (1992). The Step Not Beyond.(Lycette Nelson, Trans.). New
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________________. (1999).Awaiting Oblivion.(John Gregg, Trans.). Lincoln:
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________________. (2000). The Instant of My Death. (Elizabeth Rottenberg,
Trans.). Stanford: Stanford University Press.
unique. Therefore a name both refers to one thing and everything other
than that one; at exactly the same time. Each act of naming is a reifica-
tion of a moment in time; authored, illegitimate, necessary. Hence each
time we name, we have no choice but to name as if we can. Of course,
we can choose to wallow in our discontent, and do absolutely nothing at
all, decrying the impossibility of knowing, and the impossibility of doing
anything. Either that or we can do it, in spite of the inability to do so, do it
whilst knowing that it is all merde; all the whilst echoing the belly laugh
of our king Ubu.
I am happy, because I should be happy!
What else is happiness but a name; or otherwise, a warm gun
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70 on happiness 71
Borges, Jorge Luis. (2000).A Universal History of Iniquity.(Andrew Hurley,
Trans.). London: Penguin Books.
Cixous, Hlne. (2004).Portrait of Jacques Derrida as a Young Jewish Saint.
(Beverly Bie Brahic, Trans.). New York: Columbia University Press.
Derrida, Jacques. (1993).Memoirs of the Blind: The Self-Portrait and Other Ruins.
(Pascale-Anne Brault & Michael Naas, Trans.). Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press.
_____________. (1998).Right of Inspection. (David Wills, Trans.). New York: The
Monacelli Press.
_____________. (2000).Demeure: Fiction and Testimony. (Elizabeth Rottenberg,
Trans.). Stanford: Stanford University Press.
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York: Grove Weidenfeld.
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Possibility of an Ethical Reading.New York: Cambria Press.
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Kant to Celan.(Peter Fenves, Trans.). Stanford: Stanford University Press.
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la butte.(Kenneth McLeish, Trans.). London: Nick Hern Books.
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__________. (2003). The Puppet and the Dwarf: The Perverse Core of Christianity.
Cambridge: The MIT Press.
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75
Here I am, trying to give an account of something, and as soon as I
pause I realize that I have not yet said anything at all. A marvelously
luminous, viscid substance is left behind in me, defying words. Is it the
language I did not understand there, and that must now gradually find
its translation in me?THEVOICESMARRAKESH
ELIASCANETTI
OF
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79peter van de camp
I am happy, because I should be happy! exclaim the characters
in Pngs The Boxes with repetitive insistence. Toying withpetitio
principii, the causality teeters on the circularity which is borne out by
the characters movements. All is vanity, in the various meanings of
the wordas are the shoes, and their positioning, on the characters
heads. This has the trappings of the theatre of the absurd, with a nod
to Beckett (and a wink at Magritte). The dramatis personaeare pup-
pets, their movements mechanical, their garb ridiculous. But Png does
not share Becketts gray [sic] abandon; for that, he is adamantly causal
and putative (because and should loom large in this short play). Un-
like absurdist drama, The Boxes is invested with meaning. It pits the
human condition against human conditioning, offering an allegory of
lhomme moderne, literally boxed in by the fashion of the age.
And what is more fashionable than the dictate to be happy? It has
proven to be the greatest marketing ploy of modern society. Happiness
being what most people strive for most, it has become the prime moti-
vator for consumerism. There is even a perfume called Happy (which
scores high in the engagingPerfumes, The A-Z Guideby Luca Turin and
Tania Sanchez). Hang on, I hear you say, hasnt it always been this
way? True, Aristotle observed in his Nichomachean Ethicsthat hap-
piness is the highest aim of humanity. But that is a facile translation
which hides a fundamental difference: Aristotleseudaimoniatranslates
literally as well-spirited, in other words, being content. Contentment
requires self-control; happiness does not. The latter word is derived
from hap, meaning chance or fortune (good or bad) that falls to any
AFTERWORDPETER
VAN DEKAMP
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80 on happiness 81
one; luck, lot (O.E.D.). To be happy means to be favoured by fate. A
desire to be happy, however putative, reeks of hybris: we were not born
to be happy. And all the produce, all prescribed behaviour that is sup-
posed to warrant happiness, are but silly talismans.
Like any self-respecting dramatist, Png holds up a mirror. In it we
see ourselves decked out with talismanic straitjackets, the victims of
our fetishes, all caught in our compulsion to be favoured by fate. O
tempora, o mores!
Jeremy Fernando, in the accompanying article, puts paid to Sartres
pathetic paradox that we are compelled to be free. In a philosophically
mature essay, he lays bare the absurdity of the relationality between
happiness and choice. His perspective is panoramic, from Slavoj iek
describing the trappings of communist Czechoslovakia through Kafkas
The Trial, with the perforce elusive nature of the law, through the
spectre of the Beckettian I cannot choose, but I must choose. These he
contextualizes with Derrida topsy-turvying that we are free to see, but
there are rules, and with Hamachers solipsistic Other, only to arrive at
the belly laugh of Alfred Jarrys Ubu Roi.
Behind the curtains of Pngs play, nous (vo) is fumbling for a fit
response to the vacuous, infelicitous logos on display. That reply is
articulated by Fernando with deft circularity at the start and end of
his treatise: out of spirit comes a voice, and all it says is that one word
merde.
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85
Ain't it fun when you're always on the run
Ain't it fun when your friends despise what you've become
Ain't it fun when you get so high that you, well you just can't come
Ain't it fun when you know that you're gonna die young
It's such fun... such fun
Ain't it fun when you're taking care of number one
Ain't it fun when you feel like you just gotta get a gun
Ain't it fun when you j.j.j. just can't seem to find your tongue
Cause you stuck it to deep into something that really stung
It's such fun
Well somebody come up to me they spit right in my face
But I didn't even feel it, it was such a disgrace
I punched my fist right through the glass
But I didn't even feel it, it all happened so fast
It's such fun, such fun, such...
Ain't it fun when you tell her she's just a cunt
Ain't it fun when she splits and leaves you on the bum
Ain't it fun when you've broken up every band that you've ever begun
Ain't it fun when you know that you're gonna die young
It's such fun, such fun, such...
Having a real fun time, such fun, such fun
AIN'T ITFUNGENEO'CONNOR
&PETERLAUGHTNER
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89abo ut the con tri buto rs
JEREMY FERNANDOis the Jean Baudrillard Fellow at the European
Graduate School, where he obtained his PhD in Media Philosophy. He
works in the intersections of literature, philosophy, and the media; and
is the author ofReflections on (T)error,Reading Blindly, and The Suicide
Bomber; and her gift of death . Exploring his thinking through different
forms has led him to film, music, and installation art; and his works
have been exhibited in Vienna, Seoul, Singapore, and Hong Kong. He
is the editor of the thematic magazine One Imperative, and a Research
Fellow at the Centre for Liberal Arts and Social Sciences, Nanyang
Technological University.
KENNY PNGis a director, photographer, musician, and an award
winning television documentary maker. His works have been
showcased in major television channels such AXN, ANIMAX, MTV,
Channel News Asia, Discovery Asia, Disney Channel Asia, as well as
festivals including Sidewalk Cinema (Vienna), Sexpression (Hong
Kong), Operation Automaton (Singapore) and the Seoul FX Radio
Festival. In his spare time, he heads The Enigmatic Army: a creative
collective, comprising writers, musicians, film-makers, and artists
from Singapore, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and India.
What started as a keen interest in the arts & crafts that began as
a kid, MICHELLE ANDREA WANhas since developed into an
obsession with producing immaculate works. Hailing from the BAs
of Visual Communications from the RMIT Melbourne, and English
ABOUTTHECONTRI
BUTORS
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90 on happiness 91abo ut the con tri buto rs
Kerry International Summer School of Living Irish Authors; director
of Mangan Publishing; executive editor of the Mangan series; and
advisory editor of the Irish Academic Press.
Literature from the NUS, she is now a graphic designer at a local
renown agency. Her aesthetic philosophy is one of simplicity over
clutter. Her works includeFridays with Philip, a collection of rhetoric
by Philip Lim; the book cover forBoom, by local playwright Jean Tay;
and a forthcoming book, Cooking for The President, featuring Perana-
kan recipes & memoirs by Wee Eng Hwa, daughter of former presi-
dent Wee Kim Wee.
A tortured and confused product of the Oxford, London, and Edin-
burgh universities, JOHN LOFTHOUSEwandered the globe with
his faithful spouse teaching English until the sheer boredom of it all
drove him back to his second love, theatre. He then wandered the
globe again teaching theatre. His undistinguished career saw him
finally beached on the tiny islet of Singapore where he devotedly
laboured on the limited artistic aspirations of fellow-tortured souls
like Kenny Png, until finally finding calm and repose in the bosom of
SOTA, Singapores wonderful new School of the Arts. Whereupon,
still with his devoted wife, his first real love, he retired and lives in
Spain, sawing logs and hitting small white balls, his fourth real love,
and venturing to Uganda, his third great love.
PETER VAN DE KAMP PhD is a poet, and Associate Professor of
English at the IT Tralee. He has published 18 booksbiographies,
anthologies, criticism, monographs, manuscript editions, transla-
tions, and original poetry. He is also the founder and director of the
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