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Wednesday, January 25, 2006
The New Tourette's
Syndrome
"Everything
is extraordinary in this disease: the name is ridiculous,
its symptoms peculiar, its character equivocal, its cause unknown,
its treatment problematical." - Gilles de la Tourette
its symptoms peculiar, its character equivocal, its cause unknown,
its treatment problematical." - Gilles de la Tourette
IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE? First, a little background:
Dr. Gilles de la Tourette was a French neurologist at the Salpetriere Hospital in Paris. In 1884
Gilles de la Tourette, prompted by his mentor, Charcot; in a
peer-reviewed article, described nine patients who were affected with
compulsive tics; some of which he had never personally treated or come
in contact with, The symptoms were characterized by multiple muscle
tics, vocal noises, and compulsive swearing.
Here's a description of a typical sufferer penned by Dr. Tourette:
“In the midst of an interesting
conversation, all of a sudden, without being able to prevent it, she
interrupts what she is saying or what she is listening to with horrible
screams and with words that are even more extraordinary than her
screams. All of this contrasts deplorabl(y) with her distinguished
manners and background. These words are, for the most part, offensive
curse words and obscene saying(s). These are no less embarrassing for
her than for those who have to listen, the expressions being so crude
that an unfavorable opinion of the woman is almost inevitable.”
The disease named for Tourette is still with us today, but it has lately been joined by a peculiar variant in which otherwise reasonably normal people break off "all of a sudden" from what they were doing or saying to let fly with some inappropriate left-wing political utterance. George Clooney's little outburst about Abramoff at the Golden Globes is a recent instance, but its incongruity is mild compared to what Tom Shales did today in his media column.
The piece is a lengthy review of this season's "American Idol." He's impressed:
Vaudeville didn't die after all -- it
was only in a coma -- and now has returned in a form suitably twisted
to fit the times: "American Idol," the Fox network's stupendously
successful amateur competition, which is back for a new season with its
popularity not only intact but skyrocketing.
The program, airing Tuesday and Wednesday nights, has been very, very good for network television because the show has reached the phenomenon stage, a kind of inescapability. It's talked about, argued about, discussed with gusto, a bona fide annual national event.
The program, airing Tuesday and Wednesday nights, has been very, very good for network television because the show has reached the phenomenon stage, a kind of inescapability. It's talked about, argued about, discussed with gusto, a bona fide annual national event.
Unlike many other observers, Shales has found a way to rationalize the fact that much of the show's entertainment value lies in watching the humiliation of the defenceless and talentless.
(T)he show is at its most endearing and
irresistible... when viewers tune in hoping not to catch a brilliant
new star in the ascent but rather to savor an array of ghastly
disasters, people who have no more business singing in public than your
Aunt Minnie but who audition for the competition anyway.
When the show started, this aspect of it seemed awfully mean-spirited -- humiliation television, cruelty as entertainment -- but the program is such a familiar part of pop culture now that all contestants have to be aware of what they're getting into -- and in fact, some try to be even worse than they really are, feigning pain but reveling in the attention when assailed.
When the show started, this aspect of it seemed awfully mean-spirited -- humiliation television, cruelty as entertainment -- but the program is such a familiar part of pop culture now that all contestants have to be aware of what they're getting into -- and in fact, some try to be even worse than they really are, feigning pain but reveling in the attention when assailed.
He could have left it at that, of course, but since he's writing for the Washington Post he has to reach for some broader cultural meaning in even a low-rent phenomenon like "American Idol". Otherwise, why would a luminary like himself waste any time on it? So he settles on the notion that the show is telling us something important about Americans:
(T)he show arguably celebrates
something else: American Self-Delusion. Many of the most truly terrible
performers do appear oblivious to their lack of talent. They become
indignant when jettisoned and assume the judges are tone-deaf, have tin
ears, or in Cowell's case, that they're just mean and jealous.
Anyone who has ever witnessed a British music hall performance or a French mime act or any sort of Japanese pop star might venture to suggest that self-delusion is more probably a function of human nature than national identity, but such an argument is beside the point. What's really going on here is that Shales is building up to a Tourette's moment. His very next sentence is a kind of seizure:
"Idol" may represent American
self-delusion at its most benign, whereas current foreign policy may
represent it at its most arrogant.
"American Idol" is somehow informing us about Bush foreign policy??!! Well, that should be a mighty interesting little disquisition. The reader can hardly wait to see where this is going. But it's not going anywhere. The Tourette's moment has come and gone, and the resolution of any possible idea buried in the writer's head is preempted with a single word. "Whatever." Thus continues Shales:
Whatever, it really is more than
vaudeville rising from the dead (television having been the coffin it
was buried in). "Idol" spotlights only singers -- not the full range of
performance other amateur hours have presented -- but seems no less
significant for that, mainly because such vaudeville staples as comedy
and dance teams have become largely extinct.
Now we're back to vaudeville, the original point of entry to the subject, and the critic moves into his wrap-up without further reference to his one-sentence fit.
About 20 years ago, someone gave this guy a Pulitzer Prize, which hints at the possibility that he may not be a complete idiot, but one has to wonder. Somewhere between writing and publication there is usually a step called Reading Over What You Have Written. Does this weird new form of Tourette's conceal its existence from the sufferer? Does Shales read his moronic non-sequitur with something like pride? Or is he simply as impotent to edit it out as he was to avoid writing it in the first place, regardless of the intense embarrassment created by his condition?
These are deep waters, and I think it's time medical professionals applied themselves to the challenge of understanding and treating this disease. Before it spreads. Much farther.
