Francesca, 10/2

In discussing Jenkin’s idea of a participatory culture, I began to think of the role such a culture plays in the shaping of one’s identity. Judging from my own experience within the context of American culture, pop culture icons have an undoubtedly profound influence upon western civilization. As gossip magazines allegedly report various celebrities’ escapades, our generation shares a common interest in the failures of the rich and famous. I emphasize the universal concern with superstar foundering in an attempt to make sense of our culture’s pervasive schadenfreude. In our post-MTV age where coverage of Britney Spears’ mental instability takes precedence to substantial musical newcomers, the majority of Generation Y-er’s find themselves basing casual conversation on the latest celebrity screw-up. As we are incessantly inundated with images of perfection daily, to see the ideal entities we are deceived into admiring makes us feel slightly better about our own flaws. This is the bond shared by a participatory culture. There are anxieties of communication between the human species that are both perpetuated and alleviated by the models for existence within popular culture. We are made to feel as though we are inadequate in comparison to celebrities and develop a plethora of insecurities due to our bombardment with unrealistic images. These anxieties affect our interpersonal relationships by placing us in perpetual competition. Thus, when the event arises where the source of our self-doubt trips and shaves her blond hair, we find comfort in Miss Perfect’s misery. Moreover, the forum for discussion created by this dynamic defines the essence of Jenkins’s participatory culture. As it is the quintessence of superficial beauty that pits us against one another, it is the same plastic paradigm that resonates in conversations at Starbucks. Thus, so long as Nicole Ritchie stays under 80 pounds and Britney’s neurotransmitters remain unbalanced, our participatory culture shall dysfunctionally thrive.