A BRIEF PROSPECTUS

by Hugh M. Lewis

This is a brief prospectus summarizing the paper I have presented to you--it became much too involved and hence too long but I felt it more important to grasp the creative moment and see it through to its end. The result is more than satisfactory--I believe I have elucidated a general theory of 'anthropological authoritarianism' in relatively succinct and summary fashion--but alas, all too brief for an adequate analysis of the problem of authoritarianism which will require a whole other manuscript.

The general model of anthropological authoritarianisms I have outlined is basically as follows: anthropological authoritarianism is a function of human exploitation, especially as this is construed in the more technical Marxist sense, and in turn is correlated with the principles of alienation, objectivation and reification and this whole complex in turn is also related to another chain of associations of 'status role identity'--'structural functional positionality'--the expression of aggression--and relative expectations/asymmetrical deprivations. This basic complex underlies all identifiable kinds of authoritarianism and helps to understand the psycho-social dynamics of the complex dialectics of political economy, socio-religious-ideology and culture historical patterning.

This general model of anthropological authoritarianism becomes paradoxically problematic when it is turned reflexively upon the attempt to understand the anthropological community, its normal praxis both in the department, in the 'field' and in the wider 'world' and especially when anthropology becomes focused upon the concerns of 'ethnocentrism/relativism/rationalism' in cross cultural, trans-historical research. As a human community organized around a special, shared set of interests, it is not unlike any other human community in not being immune to the sometimes invidious vicissitudes of anthropological authoritarianism. It is a double dilemma when anthropologists have at their disposal a readily available arsenal of concepts, methods and models for framing an understanding of anthropological authoritarianism in the world, but rarely if ever is this model applied to anthropologists in everyday action in the same way as it can and has been applied to the traditional 'objects' of their 'disinterested inquiry'--the 'other'. Anthropological authoritarianism is a model which is systematically denied and suppressed when it is brought too close to home, mainly for the protection of the professional prerogatives and privileges of its primary participants within a departmental and academic setting. There is nothing inherently wrong with this form of 'within group' denial and suppression, because it is 'all too human'. But there is a corresponding need for professional anthropologists to present themselves on an everyday basis, and to more formally represent themselves in the professional forums of their own and related fields with a kind of 'rational/romantic' ideal of 'professionalism' and 'elitism' which entails both a conscious denial of its authoritarian character and simultaneously an unconscious, implicit reaffirmation of it. Anthropologists cannot formally, casually or publicly admit to certain kinds of human weaknesses--authoritarianism, ethnocentrism, prejudice, discrimination, are a few candidates--and in their repression of these very weaknesses they suffer the 'return of the repressed'--it takes authoritarianism to deny authoritarianism--and this becomes most clearly elucidated in certain occasions and circumstances--especially in the 'moment' of its own reproduction through the secondary socialization/professionalization of new 'anthropologists to be' and on occasions when competing or conflicting sets of interests, views, attitudes, theories, are brought into headlong, face to face confrontation.

Finally, I claim what I call 'autobiography authority' in my recounting of personal experiences within contexts of several anthropology departments as the only basis of legitimacy and of 'authenticity' in my accounts. I extend this claim of 'autobiographical' authority as the primary attitude/authorial articulation of anthropologists who are seeking to be relatively more authentic in their accounting of human reality. Autobiographical authority is not final authority, but it is primary and first authority--it is always relative, always partial and biased, always open to challenge. And yet no other person, can appropriate 'autobiographical' authority from another person in a 'non-authoritarian' enactment--we cannot get closer to our own sense of realities, however ultimately relativistic and distorted, except through our own self portraits, the first person singular, the voice of 'I-ness'.

upon

…Falling Rains…

…DESTRUCTING, DESTRUCTING, DESTRUCTING…

…earth…

etc.

******************

(or, Walking Movements toward META-SCIENTIFIC POETRY/POST-POETIC SCEINTIFICITY)

to all students, lost and lonely

along the ways of the world

******************

"There is a thingamabob shouting!" The Bellman said,

"He is shouting like mad, only hark!"

"He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,

He has certainly found a snark!"

(Lewis Carroll, The Annotated Snark, Penguin Books, 1970)

emerging ever present

from my two bedroom apartment

lying along the edge of the MKT nature trail

where bicyclists, joggers and walkers abound

living upon the periphery of the campus of Columbia

in a small village of humanity

in the big Mizzou town in mid-America

dwelling in a small captured colony

a large complex of many foreign kinds of students

upon the margins of the global city

used small foreign cars

seedy old furniture

and dumpsters full of trash

everyone working so hard spinning all their wheels

going somewhere nobody knows

a safe haven a harbor from the storms

an Island of Intellectuals

in an ocean of ignorance

with a low cost of living

minimal student expenses

and tolerable housing conditions

situated securely

triangulated by linear asphalt

neatly between the Bank

Schnucks and Wal-Mart

living sleepily

while the tides worldwide are rising

the morning rain is falling

in the middle of Missouri

walking to the university

crossing Providence road at the corner of Stewart

one world of a pedestrian

in a crosswalk

twenty or more separate worlds of drivers

stopped at the same red light

twenty or more different realities

constrained by one

twenty or more different drivers

all looking out through the tinted windows

Toyota realities, Ford realities, Chevy realities and more

one reality on the outside

looking in

twenty or more worlds on the inside

peering out

walking slowly up the hill

along the cracked uneven sidewalk

little rectangles of clear blue sky

carved up by the electrical high wires

tokens of modern living

walking beneath the tall towers

of the University Power Plant

smelling the sulfur

stinking in the air

stinging in the nose

the crane dumps another load of coal

upon the conveyor belt

built of steel girders

like a mechanical monster

a little man in a blue uniform

climbing high up

upon a catwalk of one of the towers

banging with a sledge hammer against its side

clanging like a steeple bell

a single solitary figure

walking along the edge

stalking the skyline

of modern civilization

sidewalk meandering

through a manmade forest

of tall, multi-level brick facades

around a construction project

surrounded by a chain-link fence

twenty or more men in hard hats

working upon the exterior of the old building

walking along the scaffolding of steel poles and wood planks

mixing mortar and pouring cement

laying brick upon brick

twenty or more termite people

engaged busily in redevelopment of the post modern world

giving an old leviathan

a new facelift

wondering between vertical valleys

bridging gulleys of liquid effluvia

walking along ways opening out

upon large flat squares of horizontal green lawns

the sidewalks are crammed with pedestrian traffic

a continuous stream of academic consciousness

thousands of students

toing and froing coming and going

between the big brick buildings

like an endless trail

of so many countless ants

all trying to get somewhere important

all needing to be somewhere significant

lost within the University

like mice within a maze

networking with the Grand Design

the Feat of Scientific Human Engineering

thousands of separate universes

converging upon a Common Center

Eternal Clockwork

seeking submersion, finding conversion

at the Hub

of the Grand Wheel of Turning

while walking along the concrete pathways

encircling the entire earth

encompassing ever wider realities

in faster, ever diminishing circles

leading everywhere

going nowhere

walking within the University

not knowing really when or where to stop

or how to begin again

journeying forever into the eye of the Oculus

seeing so many things, knowing everything

seeking wisdom along the pathways of power

among all the many Solutions

of the World System

so many possible answers

to so many human questions

lost in a world of imploding intensity

walking in a reality of exploding extensiveness

upon a perennial pilgrimage

up to the City on the Hill

journeying toward a convenient, carefree existence

crusading for Perfect Time and Perfect Place

shedding enlightenment upon all corners

cast in the darkness of the shadows

resolving all dilemmas

except the Eternal Why

of Changing Life

passing through the gateways of paradise

to the other side

entering into the doors of opportunity

consumed by the jaws of the giant

the maw of the leviathan of the land

like so much krill of the sea

like a big school of many small fish

flowing into the bowels of the monster

through the interior passage ways

along the twisting and turning corridors of time

losing one's way within the labyrinth of the beast

feeling the pulsing rhythms of the Body

riding along the crest of the wave

into the depths of its maelstrom

towards the blackest hole of the University

seeking peace at the perfect center

discovering enlightenment in the darkness of the Caves

down deep within the body cavities

sitting silently in the corner of the classroom

hearing the sonorous echoes

of the authoritative Voice of the Professor

standing behind the podium

the air is hot and humid

the class is crowded and sweaty

the atmosphere is full of kinetic energy

waiting anxiously to discharge with cybernetic intensity

anticipating a sudden outburst of unexpected electricity

to spark some interest to rekindle the fires

extinguished by the warm rain

looking out through the open window

fresh air blowing upon my face

the branches of an oak tree framed

within the molding of the window panes

just below the nest of a squirrel

an ambulance races down the street

holding forth

upon post modern problems

of Structured Reality

Deconstructing the Universe

Destructing the Universe

the professor performs the proper propitiatory rituals

so many scholastic sharks

still hunting for the same old snark

among the meta-trees of the meta-forest

in Academic Wonderland

captured within a class sized cave

living squarely within a world of ideas

cast like dancing shadows upon the walls

puppet realities, marionette mentalities

conforming to the dimensions of perfection

dazed by the dead fall

of heavy words

cast obliquely through the dense atmosphere

upon the calm surface

of the still pond

shattering the reflection

over which the water lilies grow

lotus blossoming in the mud

daydreaming out my little portal of perception

I slip idly into a somnambulant state of mind

sci-fi visions of huge ants crawling across

irradiated rubble

and giant grasshoppers soaring across the grey glowing skies

hunting little misshapen men running helplessly naked across the fields

like so many monkey rodents

hiding in holes in the reinforced ruins

reaching climactically

a high wire tension of critical mental mass

the voice trailing off in a falling crescendo

the professor hurriedly approaches the lose of the hour

as outside hailstones strike the windows

threatening to shatter the panes of glass

during a sudden afternoon storm

drowning out the words of wisdom

the sophistry, the witticisms and all the criticism

appropriately finishing off in the hailing noise

the long, interminable lecture

slowly, gradually vanishing with the destructing class

unreconstructed students

drifting randomly about the room

and out the door

walking silently back home

******