LeftoidVania: The Vampire’s Castle revisited

What is a man?

A miserable little pile of secrets

It‘s been a decade since Mark Fisher died, and half a decade since I first stumbled on his book «Capitalist Realism» on the Amazon recommended list after I had bought the Communist Manifesto, the irony of which further confirms the impact the book would have on me. At the time, I was not aware of how much the writings of Mark Fisher would inspire my overall approach to writing, philosophizing, and most importantly, mental health. It is the greatest of ironies that, in reading his most suicidal posts, I discovered a soothing explanation of why I felt the way I felt. His suicide was vindicated by deterring my own. In repoliticizing my own depression, I found a way out of the dungeon of depressive self-flagellation. I spent a great deal of my time promoting his works, attaining a somewhat annoying reputation as the “google mark fisher” guy (a slogan I had borrowed from a popular expression at the time that urged readers to “google Murray Bookchin”). For years, I entertained the illusion that Capitalist Realism would cure everyone’s depression, that it would reinvigorate my generation to take up theory through his accessible introductions to many a thinker and concept, and that it would, at the very least, warn us of the pitfalls of hauntology, the lack of alternatives, the soon-to-be-coopted defanging of critique. To an extent, I still hold some of these promises to be true, as I am proud to be friends with a dozen people who have read it and have delved into other theoretical works ever since.

Amongst his more controversial writings, «Exiting the vampire castle» is without a doubt his most polarizing text. In building a castle that rhymes with contemporary notions of moralistic echo chambers, Fisher denotes a particular tendency on contemporary left-wing movementism of erecting a puritanical stronghold from which they regulate the membership in the membrane (inside, outside, at the border). The narcissism of small differences makes said difference speak louder, and this difference, Fisher claims, is being instrumentalized by moralists who know better, and imbue themselves with the right of casting out potential renegades. His point is twofold, and warrants different readings. Is he undermining solidarity, or warning us of the already vanishing ability to unite our struggles across race, gender, and especially class?

What a horrible night to have a curse

 It was vehemently criticized by many on the left, particularly identitarian as well as intersectional thinkers, for providing a suspiciously masculine take on the ironically reversed witch hunt by the feminist left. Russell Brand is heralded as the working class representative of anti-moralist authenticity vis a vis bourgeois moralism, as represented by many a BBC anchor. A decade later, it seems rather unfortunate that Fisher goes well beyond his way to defend a man who now possesses Dracula’s rib and has every reason to be held accountable for his actions. How do we assess Brand in the expansive digital space that Dracula’s Lair is increasingly becoming.

Russell Brand, whose voice narrates “Capitalist Realism” in the Audiobook version, has been accused of several chargers that Mark himself would likely not have sanctioned as necessary for class struggle. There is, to be clear, nothing more vampiric than sexual abuse, and the rally behind the anti-moralist left will not wipe the blood off Brand’s fangs. How do we assess accountability in the social justice – vampire castle spectrum?

Has Brocialism succeeded in eating the left by sublimating race and gender beneath class consciousness? Are dirtbag leftists well-intentioned organizers of the working class, or just opportunists hiding behind history as a means to justify their negging of the subaltern cause? I leave this to the reader to decide.

The main point of the essay, to me, is that identity politics would inevitably import clerical notions of excommunication in its dealing with dissidence. “You are hereby banished from our community”, says the priest to the heretic, the thinker to the worker, theory to praxis. What has now tiresomely been described as cancel culture is, at best, what Fisher calls “excommunication”, and, at worst, what he describes as “surrogate activism”, i.e. the delegation of critique to others; movements, movies, tweets shall work for me, while I sit back and enjoy the benefits of not having been called out yet; the life of a king, sitting on a shaky throne. His diagnosis of the Vampire Castle is very prophetic regarding the clicktivism that would take off in the years to come. We live in a time that individualizes and privatizes everything, makes thought and action appear difficult, propagates guilt around every corner, essentializes our being, and coerces us into thinking like the liberals we truly are, deep inside. The ruling class has always employed responsibilization as a means of control. You best start believing in Vampire Castles, you’re already living in one.

Before we start fighting the bloodsuckers on the right, we must go back, further left, retrace our old steps, and use the whip the way Nietzsche wanted us to intend it. Let us not knot forget that in the house of the Hangman, we should not bring up the rope lest he sold it to us. To expect protection from any cross, flag or banner, is to draw blood from a stone. If Fisher has insisted on teaching us one thing, it is that now is the time of monsters. But enough talk… have at you!


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CAMP und Internet Ugly: Alles ist schlecht. Ich liebe es

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Cyberpunk und Nostalgie