Facebook is clogged with “inspirational” posts informing the world to “be yourself,” and angry posts about people that are “fake.” This branding of what is genuine and what is “fake” is blindly applied by all, and too often that it makes it difficult not to snicker at these posts wondering, among all these self proclaimed “real” people, where are these “fake” people they all condemn? Today, as I was walking around Hollywood Boulevard, I must admit that I myself felt an immediate disgust to the “fakeness” of all that I saw. The tour buses advertising sightseeing of celebrities mansions; the saggy, plastic armor of the too-short Darth Vader and his inattentive Storm Troopers; the horribly blocky and gaudy decorations of the overly priced Hard Rock Café – It all disgusted me in its “fakeness”.
What does this mean? What is this fakeness? The most obvious evaluation of this sentiment is a perceived masking to accommodate for some interest (social, monetary etc.). But, what does this masking itself entail? Can there be no genuineness in the reinvention of oneself? Is not the accommodation itself a representation of some personal quality? What, rather then accommodation is at the core of the creation of “fakeness”?
As implied by the Facebook rants about others’ fakeness, this experience is not solitary, but inflicts itself upon its surroundings. The “mask” cannot be applied by oneself, because there is no interest to accommodate to in solitude. Reinvention, without exterior interest, can only be imposed for self-interest. Here we find inherent in the creation of the fake a necessity for an exterior interest to accommodate to. This interested tends to be social are monetary. The façade of Hollywood Boulevard accommodates to monetary interest, the source of this interest being the tourist – us. Namely, we are the interest. In being the source of the interest, I believe we find the key in our disgust. I felt disgust in the fakeness because I felt cheated; I felt exploited. I was not being presented a human with whom I can converse and connect to; I was being sold a way how to feel and a an image to give money to. I did not feel cheated and exploited in the restructuring of the representation, but in the restructuring of the representation with me being the monetary interest.
This sentiment is paralleled in my feelings towards exploitation (of the audience) in movies. The line where I feel unattached and exploited by a film is crossed when I am targeted as an interest rather than a human; when I am an object of the film rather than a participant. I watch “The Notebook” and I am told how to feel. I am told to be sad. I am told to feel compassion. The film exploits my emotions; that is how it appeals. On the other hand, there are stories that have no agenda, no creed, no moral. They do not tell you what to feel, or how to think. They do not try to make you laugh, or cry, or cringe, or holler with excitement. Instead, they invite you into the film. They invite you into their world. They invite you to interact with the characters as people rather than characters. Most importantly, they interact with you as a human, not as a means for their interest.
