Collecting the immaterial: A theoretical assessment of collection in a virtual environment

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Universiteit van Amsterdam

Faculty of Humanities, Department of Media Studies

Professional MA Preservation and Presentation of the Moving Image

Collecting the immaterial

A theoretical assessment of collection in a

virtual environment

Supervisor: Marijke de Valck Second reader: Julia Noordegraaf Author: Torbjørn Pedersen Student Number 10231692 Oslo, 15. June 2014

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Preface

I began working on this project more than a year ago, and it has been a long road. And while it has been anything but smooth sailing getting here, and the project has unfolded in directions I did not expect initially, I am quite satisfied with the end result. This paper could not have been completed without the help of my patient supervisor Marijke de Valck, the friendly cooperation of

Cinemageddon's staff, and Kristin Bakken. Furthermore, I would like to extend thanks to

theNomad, dresden, ShadyGuy, rde, darioargento, FulciLives, hostyle, the people making quality rips on Cinemageddon and everyone else that has helped me finish this project.

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1. Introduction

Film enthusiasts have been collecting film since the very birth of the medium, more than a hundred years ago. When compared to the more classic collectibles such as books, paintings, pottery and other more established art objects, this still makes film collection a rather young practice. Widespread collection of film is even younger, considering that the privilege of owning a film was something reserved for the upper echelon of cinephiles, up until the release of the home video. Actual film (35, 16, 8 millimeter film) was of course collected prior to the advent of home video, but the high price of both film and specialized equipment, kept it from turning into a

mainstream practice. Home video not only turned film into a commodity everyone could collect; it was specifically marketed as such – “Why rent when you can own?” (Klinger 2001:134).

The introduction of film to the living room marked a radical change in viewing practices and habits, and has been the subject of countless books and articles. Where television studies

traditionally had been concerned with the dynamics of group-viewing and the context of viewing, film studies have focused on “textual interpretations” (Dinsmore 1998:315). The introduction of home video helped bridge this gap between the fields of television and film studies. The

implications the commodification of film have had on collection, has also been explored, but in a much smaller degree than that of viewing practices.

The home video has kept developing, through VHS, Betamax, LaserDisc, VCD, DVD to the contemporary Blu-ray Disc. However, in more recent years, film distribution has begun to develop in seemingly new directions – film is now available online. With the proliferation of services such as Netflix, Hulu, HBO GO, YouTube, Vimeo and so forth, everyone with computer-access can browse and watch films from vast online catalogues. What is interesting here though, is that these new distribution platforms are not a continuation of the video shop, but rather of the video rental shop. These services do not sell digital film copies, but rather give temporary access to digital copies. Indeed, Netflix began as a company renting out DVD's by mail. This difference might seem subtle, but is in fact quite radical, if we realize that these new and rapidly growing distribution platforms, do not offer the audience a way of acquiring a personal copy. In other words, film does not seem to be collectible in the traditional sense in this new context.

The distribution of music seems to roughly have followed the same kind development, with streaming services such as Spotify, WiMP, Last.fm and Grooveshark steadily gaining ground. Music distribution has had an intermediary step between classic physical media and digital streaming though, where users have been allowed to download copies. ITunes is a service that offers its users to buy and download a digital personal copy. ITunes does however, as most of these services, only offer files with embedded DRM technology (Digital rights management). As Allen-Robertson states, somewhat crassly: “Anything you’ve bought from iTunes or Xbox Arcade, for example, you don’t own and you never will. Access to it can be removed at any time, the content

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itself can change – it’s fundamentally different to buying a CD” (University of Cambridge 2013). (See also Allen-Robertson 2013:167).

However, in roughly the same timespan as the development of official and authorized platforms, we can trace the rise of alternative, underground distribution platforms. Perhaps most importantly is the rise of peer-to-peer file sharing networks (abbreviated “p2p”), that allow users to connect to, and share digital content between each other with relative ease. Most of these networks have operated in legally unregulated or legal grey-areas, and most continue to operate even if their activity has been deemed illegal. From proto-p2p Usenet in the 80s, the rise (and fall) of Napster, Grokster, Kazaa and Morpheus in the late 90s and early 2000s, to Direct Connect “hubs”, eMule/eDonkey and BitTorrent “trackers” to name a few (Allen-Robertson 2013:7). What is important here is that these illegal networks seem to offer films in collectible, although digital, formats.

The new digital context of media raises quite a few questions when it comes to collection, perhaps foremost, can the acquisition of digital files even be counted as collecting? I believe it is reasonable to assume the transition from physical to virtual, has had implications for how people collect film. The very concept of an immaterial or virtual collection, is rather abstract.

In this thesis I will examine the activity of film collection's transition from the physical to the virtual realm. To do so, I will establish a model that can be used to discern the nature of collection. I am basing this model primarily on two theoretical models for consumption: Grant McCracken's model of consumption presented in Culture and Consumption (1988), and Jean Baudrillard's theory of consumer society The System of Objects (2005). These two works have much in common and complements each other very well. My primary source of the two has been McCracken, as his theory come in a slightly more applicable format than Baudrillard's. I want to understand what collection is in general, before I go on to evaluating collection in the digital realm. I do this, so that I can discern whether collection is still the same, or whether it has developed in new directions in these new virtual environments.

On this basis, I will establish a theoretical framework that allow me to discuss the following questions: What kind of meaning is related to collections? How is this meaning transferred and manipulated? I will go on to relate these questions to my case study.

My case study is Cinemageddon, a torrent tracker concerned with obscure, weird, bad, or, in general, “trash cinema.” The reason why my choice of case-study fell on this particular site, has, in part, to do with my own extensive knowledge of its community and workings, that I have acquired through personal participation and membership on the site since its creation in 2007.

Furthermore, the community's concern with trash cinema, or more specifically,

“paracinema” (see page 47) makes it clear that it shares much with certain communities of VHS collectors. Indeed, the site is home to several thousand copies based on original VHS sources provided by VHS collectors among its members. While personal collection online seems to be a generally unexplored topic, collection in the physical world has been given much attention. In the

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case of film collection, the bulk of work done on the topic seems to have been done on, exactly, the collectors of VHS tapes. This makes Cinemageddon a particularly interesting case study for assessing collection's transition from a physical to a virtual environment.

This is also the reason for why I use several sources discussing what is now deemed to be rather outdated formats, such as LaserDiscs and VHS. Also, the physical nature of these more traditional forms of collection, make them a great counterpart to the radically different and digital realm of Cinemageddon. If the transition from physical to virtual, has caused changes to the activity of collection, these should be made obvious, by comparing these two realms. Indeed, the structure of the torrent tracker enables me to push my theoretical model to its limits to see whether it holds up.

I believe this inquiry into collection online provides a valuable new perspective to not only the field of collection, but also the fields of participatory fan culture, and the field of preservation and presentation of film. First of all, this thesis examines a particular subculture, that in the recent years has begun a transition from the physical to the virtual realm. By establishing a model of collection, from within the larger system of consumption, we can investigate this subculture and its activities from an entirely new angle, at a very interesting point in its existence. The transition to the digital realm will continue, whether Cinemageddon's users like it or not, as the original VHS copies, that are so highly cherished will gradually disappear due to the wear and tear of time. In the end, all that will be left is the tracker and its references back to source material of a bygone age.

Furthermore, by examining how this particular subculture utilize the torrent platform to its own ends, we can also look at the platform from a new angle. Where it has been the norm to examine such platforms on a more functional level, our subcultural perspective allows us to discern cultural aspects of features, that at a first glance might seem like entirely practical or technical parts of the distribution platform.

Finally, the thesis allows us to examine how an online community have managed to build, preserve and distribute a subcultural countercanon of (para-)cinematic history. It is an immense undertaking, where a dedicated community – united through shared passion, social media and the torrent protocol – continue to valorize, debate and construct their own alternative to the

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2. Consumption, collection and meaning

2.1. Consumption

One of the key tenets in this thesis, is that collection is a specific type of consumption. Central to this statement is the definition of “consumption” and its mechanics. “Consumption” is a fairly general term, and Grant McCracken's definition of it, for example, makes this clear by being extremely broad: “the processes by which consumer goods and services are created, bought, and used” (McCracken 1988:xi). Russell Belk agrees with McCracken, and suggests that consuming involves “individuals acquiring, possessing, using, and disposing of valued things,” but adds that how these are acquired, used and possessed differs wildly (Belk 1995:65). Belk and McCracken's attempt at defining “consumption”, illustrates both the generality and the multifaceted nature of the concept. It is clear that consumption is not a single thing, but rather a conglomerate of different activities and mechanics.

While Baudrillard only reluctantly attempts to define the concept in his final chapter of The

System of Objects, he comes at the problem from a completely different angle (Baudrillard

2005:217). In typical fashion, he attempts to define “consumption”, not by explaining what it “is”, but rather by looking at what it “is not”.

Consumption is not a material practice, nor is it a phenomenology of 'affluence'. It is not defined by the nourishment we take in, nor by the clothes we clothe ourselves with, nor by the car we use, nor by the oral and visual matter of the images and messages we receive. It is defined, rather, by the organization of all these things into a signifying fabric: consumption is the virtual totality of all

objects and messages ready-constituted as a more or less coherent discourse. If it has any meaning

at all, consumption means an activity consisting of the systematic manipulation of signs.

(Baudrillard 2005:218)

For Baudrillard, the activities outlined in Belk's and McCracken's definitions are the

“preconditions” for consumption (Baudrillard 2005:218). His definition of it points to consumption being something taking place in parallel to the “mechanism for satisfying needs” (2005:217). The manipulations of the objects “themselves” are not of interest to Baudrillard, but rather the manipulation of the signs and meanings associated with the object. In this way Baudrillard points to the core of the issue of consumption – what are the motivations for consumption; why do people consume; and, to what end do they consume? I am tempted to say that consumption indeed is a “mechanism for satisfying needs”, but that these needs are of a completely different nature than the basic, physical ones denounced by Baudrillard – we are dealing with more

abstract needs. Baudrillard elaborates on this idea in For a Critique of the Political Economy of the Sign (1981) and states:

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An object is not an object of consumption unless it is released from its psychic determinations as

symbol; from its functional determinations as instrument; from its commercial determinations as product; and is thus liberated as a sign to be recaptured by the formal logic of fashion, i. e. by the

logic of differentiation.

In fact, this is a view McCracken shares, although he expresses it somewhat differently. Where Baudrillard talks about the symbolic and the sign value of objects, McCracken talks about the (cultural) meaning of objects. Where Baudrillard finds the “manipulation of signs” to be what constitutes consumption, it could be argued that consumption is the “manipulation of meaning” for McCracken. If there is one thing they definitely agree about however, it is the importance of the notion that objects can carry meaning.

2.2. Culture and meaning

The idea of goods as carriers of meaning is a fairly well established idea according to McCracken. However, McCracken also states that meaning flows and is in permanent transit – this is what gives goods their communicative power (McCracken 1988:71). In fact, his model of consumption, is actually a model of the movement and manufacture of meaning. With this model he equals consumption with culture – they are mutually dependent entities. The significance of goods is not only that they have meaning, but that they transfer meaning. Goods play an integral part in the flow of meaning between the “culturally constituted world” and the consumer.

McCracken's model proposes that there are three locations of meaning: the culturally constituted world, the consumer goods and the individual consumer. In addition to the meaning locations, we find two moments of meaning transfer: world-to-good and good-to-individual (McCracken 1988:72). McCracken compares culture to a “lens” and a “blueprint”, and elaborates that it determines how we see and understand the world around us, as well as how we fashion and shape the world through effort.

McCracken establishes two further concepts to describe this meaning: cultural categories and cultural principles. The cultural categories describe how culture divides the world into separate parts. In this system of distinction, every phenomena and aspect of the world can be understood, in terms of what it is and what it is not. Some examples of categories are class, gender, age or status. What falls outside any such categorization, is as a result without meaning and thus not a part of the culturally constituted world – it is unintelligible. It should be noted, that cultural categories are not set in stone, and is subject to constant change and reevaluation.

What is particularly interesting to note about the cultural categories, is that they “have no substantial presence in the world they organize. [The categories] are the scaffolding on which the world is hung, but they stand invisible to all those who live in the world” (McCracken 1988:74). However, they are substantiated by human practice. Following the schematics of culture, the

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categories are continually acted out, so as to construct a world consistent with our views and beliefs. A primary way these categories are substantiated, is through goods.

Goods are concrete expressions, or reifications, of the ubiquitous and invisible culture and its categories. Goods are “a vital, visible record of cultural meaning that is otherwise intangible” (McCracken 1988:74). However, goods are not only expressions of these categories, in a way, they are also (indexical) proof of them. McCracken points out that there are several studies

demonstrating “that the order of goods is modeled on the order of culture” (ibid.).

The other aspect of cultural meaning is the cultural principles. Where the categories are the result of cultural segmentation of the world, the principles are “the ideas with which this

segmentation is performed” (McCracken 1988:76). You could say that the principles are what allows cultural phenomena to be distinguished from each other. McCracken argues that cultural categories and principles are mutually presupposing, and that goods therefore can't express one without the other (ibid.). When a good demonstrate the difference between two categories, it does so by “encoding” part of the principle that marks the two categories as distinct.

Thus the clothing that shows a discrimination between men and women or between high classes and low also shows something of the nature of difference that is supposed to exist in these categories. It communicates the supposed “delicacies” of women and the supposed “strength” of the men, the supposed “refinement” of a high class and the supposed “vulgarity” of a lower one.

(McCracken 1988:76)

This is what McCracken uses to ground his statement of meaning as something originally located in the culturally constituted world. Now, with this theoretical core established, we go on to

Figure 1: McCracken's proposed movement of meaning (McCracken 1988:72)

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consider what actually constitutes collection. I have stated that I believe collection to be a specific

form of consumption, so a good place to start is to attempt to define these specifics. While being a

“sub-category”, so to speak, of consumption, there is still a border between “mere” consumption and collection.

2.3. Collection and function

At the beginning of this chapter, I referred to Belk's definition of consumption. He continues his discussion of the subject by stating that we also dispose of goods, and that we generally do this once goods lose their value or become obsolete – both physically and symbolically. In the case of collection, however, obsolescence works differently, as obsolete goods – goods that have been removed from its original or intended use – “may appeal to collectors even more strongly because of their obsolescence. Thus collecting differs from most other forms of consumption in being relatively immune from fashion obsolescence” (Belk 1995:66, my emphasis).

In other words, what Belk is implicating, is that the collector cares little about the

functionality of goods. The value of the collected object – the collectible – is not defined by its

use-value, but perhaps rather in its lack thereof. This is a view shared by Baudrillard, who essentially describes collection as a system of “non-function,” and he defines the collectible as an object having “minimal function and maximal meaning” (Baudrillard 2005:75,86). He argues that goods have two functions: to be put to use and to be possessed. Once a good is “completely abstracted from its use, [it] becomes part of a collection” (Baudrillard 2005:92).

Baudrillard touches on some very central concepts here, perhaps primarily that of value, and what is valued in the collectible. He elaborates: “an object no longer defined by its function is defined by the subject” (Baudrillard 2005:92). In other words, once an object is no longer defined by what it is (the object itself), it is defined externally, by a subject. Once a good is no longer defined by its function, neither is its value. We can also look at this from a different angle – an object's value can be either utilitarian or cultural.

Furthermore, collectibles seem to have two primary values – that which is established among the collecting community and that which is established by its owner. While both types of value are subjective in essence, there is something like a consensus about an object's value among the members of a collector community. On the other hand, you have the personal value, that only matters to the collector himself. Baudrillard also observes a related, but curious, collector

phenomenon that illustrates the twofold nature of collector value – namely, the fact that objects

missing from a collection, also are the collection's most valuable. “The object attains exceptional

value only by virtue of its absence” (Baudrillard 2005:99). This is of course the case for both collector communities and individual collectors, but the observation highlights the subjective value of collectibles very well. An object that has low value in a community, might have high value for an individual collector who's missing the object from his collection.

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This leads us to another peculiarity of collection – its focus on acquisition and building of

sets. The acquisition of objects, or rather the continued acquisition of objects is central to the

process of collection (Belk 1995:66). The kind of objects acquired is subject to a set of selection

criteria, that “distinguishes what is and what is not appropriate for inclusion in the collection”

(Belk 1995:66). Furthermore, the objects in a collection are singular and unique. While the objects in a collection will have things in common with the other objects in the collection, they should not be identical. This is an important distinction, as it is what essentially marks the difference between collection and hoarding.

To illustrate, we can look to an odd example from the world of VHS collection. In 2009 after repeatedly coming across VHS copies of the film Jerry Maguire (Cameron Crowe, 1996), the found-footage group “Everything Is Terrible”, set out to acquire as many copies of the film as possible (Chicago Tribune 2012). If their current hoard of over 6000 copies were in some way

distinguishable from each other, their Maguire Watch initiative could be regarded as some sort of collection (Everything Is Terrible 2014). However, as their copies seems to be virtually identical, we can deem this to be an instance of what Belk calls mere acquisitiveness, “in which the items acquired are neither regarded as a set nor retained and possessed as such” (Belk 1995:67)

Baudrillard puts this very eloquently in his musings on the odd blend of singularity and seriality we find in collections, and states that collecting is “qualitative in its essence and quantitative in its practice” (Baudrillard 2005:94). Drawing from this, it is clear that a set – or a collection – is a series of unique objects complimenting each other.

2.4. Sets, the Diderot unity and effect

This mechanism of complementation that McCracken identifies, is named after Denis Diderot, due to a phenomenon described in Diderot's essay Regrets on Parting with My Old Dressing Gown (McCracken 1988:118-119). McCracken explains, that in the essay, Diderot describes how he receives a new, expensive dressing gown and suddenly realizes that his other goods seem cheap in comparison to it. Diderot finds himself in a spiral of continual displacement and “upgrading” of his goods, in an attempt to bring everything “up to par” with the dressing gown and to re-establish a sort of unity between his goods.

The Diderot effect and unity is essentially a cultural phenomenon that stems from how consumers crave “cultural consistency” in their lives and among their possessions. The effect is entirely integral to McCracken's model of meaning transfer. The effect can work in two markedly different ways, as described by McCracken: “It can constrain the consumer to stay within his or her existing patterns of consumption. But, in a second mode, it can force the consumer to transform these patterns of consumption beyond all recognition” (McCracken 1988:118). To understand how the effect works, we have to look at why goods can appear to “go together” and complement each other. McCracken's explanation for this is threefold and has to do with: “(1) the nature of the

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meaning contained in things, (2) the way in which this meaning enters into things, and (3) the manner in which the meaning of things is communicated by the 'object code'” (McCracken 1988:120).

As I've explained earlier, goods are created after the blueprint provided by cultural categories. McCracken states that the meaning of goods “stems from their place in a system of goods and the relationship of this system to a system of cultural categories”. He illustrates this by looking at watches: “The Rolex is associated with particular cultural categories of class, sex, age, and occasion because of the overall correspondence between the system of watches and the system of cultural categories” (McCracken 1988:120). This correspondence between the different product categories and cultural categories are keys in the process of complementation.

All product categories are organized in order to correspond to the same set of cultural categories. This means, perforce, that all product categories must also correspond to one another. It is therefore possible to take each product category and line it up with every other product category, so that their internal distinctions exist in parallel. When this is done, the structural equivalent of a brand in one category becomes evident in all others.

(McCracken 1988:120)

With such a system, we can attempt to match a system of movies to a system of music. In this way, we can attempt to discern what genre of movie “goes” with what genre of music. We could, for example, discover that horror films and black metal music, go together. What we really discover here though, is that the two genres “occupy the same relative position in the product category” and thus carry similar and comparable meaning (ibid.). Put somewhat bluntly, the meaning of goods comes from their coordinates in this conceptual “grid” that we are calling categories, and whether goods complement each other can be assessed quite “matter-of-factly” by comparing their “grid positions”. This is also an insight that is shared by Baudrillard (Baudrillard 2005:209).

The final aspect we need to look at to understand product complements and unities, has to do with how goods communicate meaning. More specifically, it has to do with how McCracken argues that language and material culture seem to “differ in their communicative ends”

(McCracken 1988:68-69). In his study of clothing and how people “decode” their meaning, McCracken observed that clothing seemed to lack “combinatorial freedom and generative potential,” traits that are inherent to language (ibid.).

In other words, it seems that goods communicate meaning most effectively when their meanings complement each other. An isolated good, or a selection of goods that have separate or opposing meanings, communicate their meaning less effectively.

In other words, the symbolic properties of material culture are such that things must mean together if they are to mean at all. Product complements create the associations that supply the companion products for any particular good that help make its meaning good. The nature of product communication is therefore another factor that encourages things to go together.

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I see traces of Baudrillard's summary of collecting as “qualitative in its essence and quantitative in its practice” here. Baudrillard follows this statement up by suggesting, in his elegant rhetoric, that the attraction of collecting is one of “an intimate series […] combined with a serial intimacy” (Baudrillard 2005:94). A collection consists of a series of objects holding unique meanings, that the collector is intimate with. On the other hand, the sum of these is an intimate series. The objects mean one thing by themselves, and another when they “mean together”, to return to McCracken.

While the Diderot effect is not unique or limited to collectors, it is quite obvious that it plays an integral role to the activity of collection. I believe sets, like other unities of goods, reflect

cultural categories. If we agree with McCracken's argument that goods do not communicate like

language, and that goods therefore “must mean together if they are to mean at all”, collection is essentially the elaborate process of constructing cultural meaning (McCracken 1988:121). Following this line of reasoning, the building of a set is a continual process of refining, adjusting and strengthening of cultural meaning. Collections communicate meaning, and it would seem that it is their exact goal to do so.

2.5. Value and meaning

We can return to Baudrillard's view of collection as a system of non-function and his musings on their value, and attempt to unify the ideas. This idea is central to Belk as well, who states that one of the things that sets collection apart from consumption, is that “the things compromising a collection are removed from ordinary use” (Belk 1995:66). He suggests, that this may be the case from the start, as in the case of art objects, or “by virtue of being taken out of use,” as in the case of stamps or coins removed from circulation, or silver spoons no longer used as cutlery, to name some examples (ibid.).

There is also another sense in which collecting is non-utilitarian. Collecting is highly involving passionate consumption rather than an uninvolving form of consumption like buying canned peas […]. As a result collectors tend to feel attached to their collections in ways that may seem irrational if viewed in terms of the normal functions of the things collected.

(Belk 1995:66)

As previously mentioned, Baudrillard agrees that a collectible is an object lacking function, but also states that it has particularly strong meanings attached to it. Indeed, “robbing” an object of its intended functionality, would seem to leave it with its cultural meaning alone. Put differently, we could say that turning an object into a collectible makes it a purely communicative object. Following this, it is reasonable to assume that the collectible's value stems solely from its ability to communicate meaning. Value and meaning are inextricably linked in the case of the collectible, as

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it seems to be lacking ordinary use-value.

However, the fact that collection seems to be a means of communicating cultural meaning is still not the only thing that sets it apart from consumption. As I've explained earlier, regarding consumption as a cultural communicative phenomena, is the core of McCracken's Culture and

Consumption. The distinction between the two, has to do with how the collectible is purely

communicative. The collectible's primary and sole purpose is that of holding meaning. While the ordinary consumer good holds meaning as well, this is only one of its two functions – the

emphasis on the good being meaningful, is not as strong.

With this in mind, we can return to Baudrillard's statement that goods have “two functions – to be put to use and to be possessed” (Baudrillard 2005:92). The quality that allows an object to be “possessed” seems to be that of holding and communicating meaning. This allows us to

rephrase his statement somewhat, and I suggest that objects have two functions – to be useful and to be meaningful. Put this way, the collectible stands out, as it is only meaningful, and thus an object made solely for possession. It must be noted here, that this would be the case of an

idealized collectible. In the real world, we seldom encounter purely meaningful objects, or, on the

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3. Displaced meaning

Memories of the cities in which I found so many things: Riga, Naples, Munich, Danzig, Moscow, Florence, Basel, Paris; memories of Rosenthal's sumptous rooms in Munich, of the Danzig Stockturm where the late Hans Rhaue was domiciled, of Süssengut's musty book cellar in North Berlin; memories of the rooms where these books had been housed, of my student's den in Munich, of my room in Bern, of the solitude of Iseltwald on the Lake of Brienz, and finally of my boyhood room, the former location of only four or five of the several thousand volumes that are piled up around me.

(Benjamin 1969:67)

3.1. Unsatiable needs

Having linked the collectible's value with the collectible's meaning, we return to our earlier discussion of value and lack (see page 10). Belk points out that collections are seldom completed, they continue to grow or develop as long as the collector has any interest in it – or, in other words – collects (Belk 1995:66). Baudrillard goes further, and questions whether collections are even

meant to be completed. He suggests that “madness begins once a collection is deemed complete

and thus ceases to center around its absent term” (Baudrillard 2005:99). The idea of lack playing a central and, perhaps more importantly, a positive role for collections is interesting. In fact, it is actually explored by McCracken in his discussion of “displaced meaning”.

While I have not discussed the two instruments of meaning transfer proposed by

McCracken yet – the systems of advertisement and fashion – it must be noted that both of these systems exist (at least in part) to make consumers want to buy things. Essentially, these systems create needs. However, whether these created needs can actually be satisfied is a different story. Actually, both McCracken and Baudrillard seems to share the view that they can't. In fact,

Baudrillard concludes his System of Objects by pointing out, that if consumption was a process of “absorption or devouring,” you would eventually reach some sort of saturation point – a point where you would be satisfied and could stop consuming. However, he states, that point is never reached, “people simply want to consume more and more” (Baudrillard 2005:223).

The systematic and limitless process of consumption arises from the disappointed demand for totality that underlies the project of life. In their ideality sign-objects are all equivalent and may multiply infinitely; indeed, they must multiply in order at every moment to make up for a reality that is absent. Consumption is irrepressible, in the last reckoning, because it is founded upon a

lack.

McCracken quite simply states that “we can never reach a 'sufficiency' of goods and declare 'I have enough'”, due to the fact that the mechanics of consumption are built to continuously enlarge our

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needs (McCracken 1988:194). While McCracken seems to agree that this behavior is not at all positive, he also points out that focusing on this aspect of consumption, is missing the point somewhat. What I am referring to, is that Baudrillard has failed to identify what role consumption – or collection – plays in the face of this looming disillusionment. I believe the clue to

understanding this role lies with the fact that collections do not seem to be meant for completion.

3.2. Displaced meaning

Displaced meaning, is a peculiar category of cultural meaning introduced by McCracken. Displaced meaning is meaning that “has deliberately been removed from the daily life of a community and relocated in a distant cultural domain” (McCracken 1988:104). What is interesting here, is why meaning is removed from daily life. Baudrillard is actually quite close to the solution in his denunciation of consumption as “idealized” and “founded upon a lack” (ibid.).

McCracken states that there is a gap between the “real” and the “ideal,” and that it is one of the most difficult problems a culture has to deal with (McCracken 1988:105). The essential problem is that ideals are insubstantial per definition. We simply can't have the ideal, as it always surpasses reality. The ideal is perfect, but unobtainable. Put somewhat pointedly, the problem is that we can't have what we want. If you face the problem with “naïve optimism,” you will eventually have to face the fact that the gap between real and ideal is a “permanent feature of social life” (ibid.). If you, on the other hand, face the problem by cynical acceptance of the gap, you must lead your life “without larger goals and hope” (ibid.) There is no obvious solution to this problem.

However, there are strategies you can utilize to avoid the depressing fates of McCracken's quote. One such, is the displacement of the ideals that we cherish the most. The general idea of displacement, seems to be the harnessing of the ideals' insubstantial nature, and utilizing it in a positive way. You displace the insubstantial ideals in a location where you imagine that the ideal actually has substance. In this way, you establish a reason for why the ideal is insubstantial in the here and now, while at the same time creating an illusion where it appears that the

aforementioned gap can be closed. As long as our ideals seem achievable, it does not matter that we never actually reach them.

I would suggest that it is not the ideals that we are substantiating here, but rather the gap between them and us. The illusion works by making the distance we have to cross to reach our ideal known to us. In other words: by giving the gap substance, the steps needed to close it become apparent to us. An ideal that lacks substance or is unlikely to have substance in our world, can be validated or proven to exist, if it is believed to exist somewhere else. If the ideal is believed to exist somewhere else, “the gap between the real and the ideal can be put down to particular, local difficulties” (McCracken 1988:106). McCracken continues, “the strategy of displaced meaning contends with the discrepancy between the real and the ideal by the clever expedient of removing

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the ideal from the fray” (ibid.).

To understand this process better, we can examine the nature of the locations we displace meanings to. The ideals cause problems when they are in the “here and now”, so a successful displacement relocates the ideal in time and space (McCracken 1988:108). A common location for displacement in time, is a “golden age” in the historical past. According to McCracken, golden ages tend to be reassuringly documented historical periods, that we have imposed with our own – largely fictional – beliefs. However, we can also displace our unfulfilled ideals to a “golden future.”

The future is an excellent and versatile refuge for ideals, considering how it is

undocumented. It lacks the historical record that could contradict our utopian beliefs of what it

might hold (McCracken 1988:107). McCracken suggests that this unconstrained nature of the future might play an important role when we consider why people choose to displace something to the future or the past.

Where the future offers a clean slate, the golden past “can give credibility to cultural ideals by 'demonstrating' that these ideals where once extant” (McCracken 1988:107). The proof that the golden past provides, is, as I've suggested earlier, that of substance. The difference between the two locations can be summed up by stating that the past offers the authority of substance, while the future is unrestrained by substance. McCracken suggests that there might be reason to believe that the more implausible an ideal is, the more likely it is that it is displaced to the future (McCracken 1988:107).

As mentioned, we can also displace ideals in space – the process and mechanics being very similar to that of displacement in time. In essence, it comes down to pointing at a society, group or geographical location today, where we imagine that life is lived according to our ideals. Of course, the location has to be distant enough, for it to be hard to find data that disprove, go against or otherwise shatter our imagined conception of it. Again, we see the rationale that when something has substance elsewhere, it proves that it can have substance here.

Industrial societies tend toward a certain fondness for pastoral societies. Pastoral societies look forward to the opportunities for perfection that development will bring. Similarly, traditional societies admire modern ones, and they, in turn, return the compliment. Somewhere on the spatial continuum there is always a perfect “other” in terms of which locally unobtainable ideals can be cast.

The usage of the strategy of displacement is not limited to cultures and large communities, it is also utilized on a smaller scale by individuals. As McCracken points out: “Like cultures, individuals display a characteristic refusal to attribute the failure of ideals to the ideals themselves”

(McCracken 1988:108). The mechanics are the same, but the locations differ. Rather than grand historical golden ages, individuals can find refuge for their ideals in their personal past. Personal “golden ages” so to speak, could be childhood, or periods “in which life conformed to their fondest

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expectations or noblest ideals” (McCracken 1988:108). On a larger scale, the future is also a suitable location for displacement for individuals.

What kind of future is will prove a satisfactory location for ideals is often specified by convention. Conventional locations include “when I get married...,” “when I finally have my degree...,” when opportunity comes aknockin'....” these desirable futures are collective inventions and subject to changing fashion.

When your own future and past is unable to provide a suitable location for displacement, you turn to the lives of others. In other words, we look to others for proof that their ideals have been realized. As McCracken points out, the fact that we do this becomes very apparent when we take the “Hollywood 'star system'” and other cults of personality into question (McCracken 1988:109). We assume that others have realized, and are living, the lives that we want for ourselves. If we look to my later discussion of trickle-down theory and the appropriation of fashion to establish social status, we can see how displacement is one of the driving forces of consumption (see discussion on page 29). More importantly, this allows us to examine what role goods play for displacement.

While displacing ideals indeed seems to be able to protect our cherished ideals from contradiction, the strategy makes little sense if we in the process lose access to the ideals we want to protect. At the beginning of my chapter on McCracken's model of meaning transfer, I suggested that goods provide substance for culture, and it is exactly this which allows goods to serve as “bridges” to displaced meaning (McCracken 1988:109).

To be able to serve as a bridge, a good will have to be able to bring the displaced meaning into the here and now, while at the same time not compromising its immunity to contradiction. The function of the bridge is thus somewhat contradictory, as it should provide access to meaning, while at the same time not undoing the displacement (eg. not being in the here and now). Goods are well suited to this due to the way they are linked to culture. While goods provide substance to culture, we need to remember that the good and culture are not the same. As I've explained earlier, the world of goods mirrors that of culture and is modeled after it – the good is not culture, it stands in for culture. The good is inextricably linked to culture, while it at the same time remains external to it.

Goods serve so well [as bridges] because they succeed in making abstract and disembodied meaning extant, plausible, possessable, and, above all, concrete. They represent displaced meaning by serving as synecdoches of this meaning. They represent this meaning by reproducing its value and scarcity through their own. Finally, they represent this meaning by creating a series of almost infinitely expandable locations through finely articulated diversity.

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McCracken explains that goods can serve as bridges both before and after they are purchased. The former process is the least complicated of the two, as it counteracts the displacement far less than the latter. The coveted good essentially works as a bridge by having its purchase anticipated. Unlike the displaced meaning, the anticipated good is within reach, and thus can be acquired.

By reflecting on the eventual possession of a coveted object, the individual is allowed to “reflect on the possession of an entire way of life”. “The [good] becomes the 'objective correlative' of this diverse package of displaced meaning” (McCracken 1988:110). McCracken illustrates this quite poignantly by looking to Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941), and in the process provides us with an example of using goods to access meaning displaced in the past:

The tragedy of Citizen Kane follows from the fact that its protagonist has lost touch not only with his past but also with the bridge that allowed him to gain access to his past. A popular

interpretation of the movie finds a “anti-materialistic” message in the movie. Poor, misguided Kane seeks happiness in things, in a pathology of consumption. But the real nature of Kane's difficulty is not that he seeks happiness in things. The displacement strategy moves all of us to similar

attempts. The real nature of his difficulty is that he is unable to determine in which of his possessions this happiness is really (or apparently) resident.

The coveted good can in many cases also be purchased and not only anticipated, but this does not

necessarily mean that it stops functioning as a bridge.

It could seem like the bridge is intended to be as inaccessible as the displaced meaning (but with substance), at least this makes their functionality as bridges easier to maintain. As a result, goods that are well beyond an individual's buying power are often chosen as bridges to displaced meaning. It is supposed to be difficult to acquire, and this makes the actual purchase of such a bridge, “almost always an exceptional purchase” (McCracken 1988:111). If the coveted good functions as a bridge by providing something substantial that can be anticipated, it would perhaps seem reasonable to believe that the purchased object somehow worked differently. This is not the case – the “exceptional purchase” works the exact same way.

While the good has become the “objective correlative” of the displaced meaning, the consumer is aware that the good is only a part of the ideal – a tiny piece of an idealized whole. The existence of the part, “proves” not only that the whole exists, but also “of the individual's ability to lay claim on it”. “The good is purchased in anticipation of a much larger package of goods,

attitudes, and circumstances of which it is a piece” (McCracken 1988:111). In most cases, the purchase of a good does not violate the displacement. This is due to the fact that the good does not summon the “entire system of which it is a part” (ibid.). The individual has not bought the

entire bridge, but rather a part of it.

Indeed the purchase has a quality of rehearsal to it. It is consumption in training. The individual clearly understands the that he or she is not laying claim to the whole parcel of displaced meaning that has been transported to another time and place, but merely a small, anticipatory part of it.

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(McCracken 1988:111-112)

However, if the purchase of such a bridge were to bring the actual displaced ideal into the here and now, you can always discredit the good as a bridge. You can simply transfer the function of bridge to another object, that is not already in your possession, and return to anticipating its future purchase or acquisition. In this way the displaced meaning can stay displaced (McCracken 1988:112). Another solution for keeping displaced meaning displaced after purchase, is to quite simply avoid using the bridge. In this way, it can remain idealized and untarnished by empirical trial.

If you purchase an object that has represented “what my life will be like some day,” that object now actually is a part of your life, and the displaced ideal is no longer so displaced. As McCracken states, “it is now an incipient part of the “here and now” and to this extent vulnerable to contradiction” (McCracken 1988:112). Indeed, you run a risk by purchasing your bridges, and McCracken illustrates this by looking at lottery winners who unexpectedly find themselves having the purchasing power to buy anything they have ever wanted. The result is that “one's displaced meaning is no longer safely out of reach” (McCracken 1988:112).

As explained, great wealth complicates the strategy of displacing meaning significantly, but McCracken suggests that there is one strategy to get around it, namely, to collect. This is of course of particular interest to us, and is in fact the only time McCracken discusses collection in Culture

and Consumption. McCracken actually gives a short definition of collection here, and describes it

as “to buy what is scarce and rare” (McCracken 1988:113). For McCracken collectibles are of interest because they have “their own special scarcity” (ibid.). What McCracken refers to here, is the fact that the difficulty of acquiring a collectible does not stem from it being merely

economically expensive, but the fact that they are actually rare in some regard. You need more than “mere” wealth to acquire collectibles.

3.3. Collection, rarity and displaced meaning

I believe this is a good point to attempt to provide a working definition of collection. I find Belk's definition to be both concise and elegant.

Collecting is the process of actively, selectively, and passionately acquiring and possessing things removed from ordinary use and perceived as a part of a set of non-identical objects or experiences.

(Belk 1995:67)

Indeed, I agree with all these aspects, but we should also take note of the one-sentence

description provided by McCracken, namely that collection is “to buy what is scarce and rare”, and that collectibles have their “own special scarcity” (McCracken 1988:113). That collectibles are rare is not listed in Belk's definition. Considering that collectors often seem to hunt for such valued

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rarities, this might seem odd. To understand the role rarity plays to collection, we need to examine

why the rare object is sequestered to begin with. To do so we have to return to one of the

concepts that I have examined earlier, namely the value of objects.

In my discussion of value, I essentially concluded that the value of objects stems from one of two things – their functionality or their meaning (see my discussion of value and meaning, on page 10). Furthermore, I concluded that collectibles are valued solely by the meanings they hold, seeing that collectibles are actively removed from their intended use. However, having brought up the concept of displaced meaning, we now have two different kinds of meaning to consider. The real question, and perhaps the crux of my definition of collection, is what kind of meaning the collectible holds. I contend that the collector is concerned with displaced meaning alone.

Collectibles and collections are in other words bridges to ideals.

This provides us with some very interesting possibilities and answers. First of all the rarity is not sought after because it is rare per se. The rarity is sought after because it holds meaning – more importantly, displaced meaning. The fact that rarities so often are sought after and deemed to be of extraordinary value, is because they are such ideal locations to displace meaning to. McCrackens view is simplistic and can be turned on its head, rarities are sought after, but only because they provide more of a challenge to acquire than non-rare collectibles. Collectors do “buy what is scarce and rare”, but this is not the defining feature of collection, the real defining feature of collection is its concern with displaced meaning.

On the basis of this assumption I would therefore like to suggest my own modified definition of collection:

Collecting is the process of actively, selectively, and passionately acquiring and possessing things removed from ordinary use and perceived as a part of a set of non-identical objects or experiences,

so that they can act as bridges to displaced meaning.

Indeed, I believe many of Belk's other defining features of collection and other collector phenomena can be traced back to this trait. The seemingly irrational passion of collectors, the non-functionality of the collected objects, the obsession with unique objects and sets, and the fact that collections are not meant to be completed – I believe all of this can be traced back to how collectibles serve as bridges to displaced meaning.

In my earlier discussions of sets, Diderot unities and value, I suggested that the collectibles are purely communicative objects and that collection, as a result, is a purely communicative effort – that collection is the elaborate construction of cultural meaning (see page 8). With displaced meaning in mind, it is obvious that this statement must be revised somewhat. Rather than constructing cultural meaning, collectors are constructing elaborate bridges to displaced ideals.

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3.4. Uniqueness as ideal

This also explains why the collection cannot be completed1_{. The concept that is “the complete” or}

“finished collection”, is an ideal in itself. Collection is most definitely a “total idealised practice” as Baudrillard suggests (Baudrillard 2005:223). The ideals of collection is what drives us to keep collecting – to keep adding, upgrading and seeking new missing pieces.

The serial nature of the most mundane of everyday objects, as of the most transcendent of rarities, is what nourishes the relationship of ownership and the possibility of passionate play: without seriality no such play would be conceivable, hence no possession – and hence, too, properly speaking, no object. A truly unique, absolute object, an object such that it has no antecedents and is in no way dispersed in some series or other – such an object is unthinkable.

While collections and collectibles act as protectors of many different kinds of ideals, I believe there are two core ideals that all forms of collection are seeking to protect, and that the activity is based upon. The first of these ideals is identified by Baudrillard in the quote above – the ideal of

“uniqueness”.

Belk suggests that one of the things most collectors seek is the “chance to stand out,” or rather, to be seen as unique, by owning rare, valued or otherwise unique possessions (Belk 1995:88). Belk seems to suggest that the reason collectors are concerned with these two ideals in particular, comes from the collector's yearning to become, or be seen as, an unique individual – perhaps more correctly, to be seen as an individual in general. Furthermore Belk suggests that collectors tend to specialize their collection habits over time, focusing on rarer and more esoteric or unavailable items, so that they can distinguish themselves from other collectors too (ibid.).

This is of course particularly interesting to us, because we now immediately recognize the mechanisms of McCracken's model of meaning transfer. The transfer of meaning from good-to-consumer – or rather – from ideal-to-collector. Indeed, we can see how the collector attempts to place himself in a position aligned with the unique objects on the aforementioned category “grid system,” so that he can be seen as holding comparable meanings himself. What is a rare object, if not something seemingly unique – the “objective correlative” of this cherished ideal?

Indeed, this helps explain a curious phenomenon I noted earlier in the paper – how the most valuable object in a set, seems to be the ones missing from the collection. The moment collectors become aware of these assumed unique objects, they begin anticipating its future purchase or acquisition. The problem arises once the object is acquired and added to the

1 We should consider my discussion of the very finite 72 film DPP-list, in my later discussion of divestment rituals (see page 74). While the 72 films of the set can be acquired, this does not mean that the collector is “done” collecting, or that collection can end. Instead, he will find new locations – sets – to displace ideals to. A good example of this, would be the “Video Nasties 2” list that was published by the fanzine The Dark Side, as an unofficial extension to the original DPP-list (Bryce 2001). The 78 movies on this list was not officially banned, but disappeared from the video market as a result of the prosecution of the other films. This example, is a perfect illustration of how sets keep getting expanded through curation and the creation of related sets.

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collection. The collection is, as I have established, serial in nature. The problem becomes

apparent, if we look back to Baudrillard's statement regarding the unique object being an illusion. The moment something enters a collection, and thus becomes part of a series, the object no longer is unique.

This is a curious paradox, as it also means the ideal has been brought into the collector's here and now and has become prone to contradiction. As a result the ideal has to be displaced to yet another safe location. In the collector's case, that would mean a different assumed unique collectible that remains unacquired and is currently outside of the collection.

3.5. The collection as ideal

However, if the collection itself negates the very ideals it seeks to protect, this could actually seem to be an argument against collections being a successful strategy of displacing meaning. This is not the case though, because “the collection” – or rather “the completed collection” – quite elegantly, is an ideal in itself. The unique object does not lose its function as a bridge when it gets added to the collection, because the collector is not seeking single unique objects to begin with – the collector is seeking the unique collection. In other words, the two core ideals of collection as an activity is that of “uniqueness” and that of “the collection”.

As I stated in my discussion of displaced ideals, the consumer using goods to access displaced meaning is aware that the good is only part of the ideal – a tiny piece of an idealized whole. The existence of the part “proves,” not only that the whole exists, but also the individual's ability to lay claim on it. The idealized whole is of course the collection. The collector might not be unique yet, but “will” be once the collection is complete. The individual collectibles all “prove” that the collection can be, and is gradually being, completed. The collection's (impossible) day of completion, having been displaced to the future.

With this in mind, we can see how collection can turn into a self-sustaining and -propelling activity, were collection becomes a goal in itself – collection for collection's sake. Walter

Benjamin's oft cited essay on collection, Unpacking My Library (1967), is a great example of this. Benjamin seems to use his collection as a bridge to his own past, but it is worth noticing that in most cases this seems to be a past of collection. It could seem like his enjoyment primarily comes from reminiscing how he managed to track down and get hold of the various books in his library. For Benjamin, acquisition and collection has become ideals in themselves.

In his discussion of rarity, Belk also looks at book collectors, as he cites the book The

Anatomy of Bibliomania (Holbrook Jackson 1989). The quote in question is particularly interesting

to us, as it brings our key concepts of rarity and non-function together.

If the book be rare, then it is fair, fine, absolute, and perfect; [collectors] burn like fire, they dote upon it, rave for it, and are ready to mope and fret themselves if they may not have it. Nothing so

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familiar in these days, and in past times, as for a bibliomane to sacrifice all for a piece of scarcity; and though it be a dunce's album, and have never a wise thought to its pages, neither good writing, nor good seeming, an empty piece, but only rarity, it will have twenty bidders in an instance.

(Jackson 1989:540)

I believe these quotes illustrates what I've been trying to state in this chapter very effectively. Namely, how having meaning stands in contrast to having function; and that having meaning is the only thing that matters in the case of the collectible. Furthermore, it also illustrates how objects holding, or capable of holding, the displaced ideal of uniqueness, attain exceptional value.

However, even though these core ideals are held in particularly high regard and seem central to collection, it still does not mean they necessarily are the main ideals sought by the

collectors. I would not assume that most collectors would say they find their collections valuable solely because of their collectibles' uniqueness. While a collector of film noir, for example,

probably takes great satisfaction in his unique holdings, his interest and love for (idealized) “film noir”, “the good film”, or what he perceives to be a “golden age” of film production of some sort, might be what he cites as the main driving force behind his collection. However, this still does not mean that the core ideals are unimportant to him. While the core ideals might not always be the apparent main goals for collectors, they are still valued due to how they act as facilitators for the displacement of other ideals. They are an integral part in the very mechanics of displacing

meaning. Without also striving for the core ideals, the aforementioned collector of film noir, would struggle to protect the ideals he primarily seeks.

3.6. Competition

Before we move on, we have to once more return to the paradox of collection seemingly negating the very ideals it seeks to protect. I've tried to explain how the ideal of “the collection” comes into play here, but there are also other factors that matter. If the serial nature of the collection

contradicted the ideal of uniqueness held in the collectible to such a degree that it was fully “negated”, so to speak, the ideal of “the complete collection” is an insufficient explanation of how collecting can protect ideals. The explanation includes (at least) two other mechanics – other

collectors (and their jealousy/competition) and the fact that there are strategies in place that

limits the negation.

The first thing we need to remember is that the collection, while serial in nature, still consists of non-identical objects. The collection does have many similar or complementing items, but no identical ones (see discussion of hoarding and Jerry Maguire on page 8). What this means though, is that the object retains some of its uniqueness within the closed confines of the

collection – it is unique piece within the closed entity of the set. The paradoxical and fleeting nature of collectibles' and collection's uniqueness is indeed a defining feature of the

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collector-phenomena.

In addition, collections seldom consists of objects that are of interest to no one but the collector himself. Indeed, Belk suggests that collection is a sphere of competition more often than not, in part due to how collection is a much narrower sphere of competition than general

consumption (Belk 1995:68).

If collection is an activity where that takes place to guard the ideals of uniqueness and to make the collectors unique themselves, we can easily see how this can turn competitive. I find it ironic that an activity people partake in to stand out, so rarely is defined by people actually

collecting things no one else collects, i.e. standing out. It could seem like the themes of collections tend not to be unique. If someone actually collects something unique, someone else will begin collecting the same thing, as it is a smaller sphere of competition – in other words, a sphere where it is easier to stand out (ibid.).

I believe competition also plays a role when it comes to preserving the ideals of uniqueness, as it actually seems to reinvest owned items with uniqueness. As explained in discussion of “the collection” as an ideal (see page 20), the serial nature of the set negates the ideal of uniqueness in the collectible being added to it, to some extent. However, if we turn this process on its head, we realize that the object being added to a set, moves the object in question out of reach for other

collectors. Looking back at the mechanics of displaced meaning, we know that this means that the

object becomes a suitable location for displaced meaning. This reiterates the object's uniqueness for others, and turns it into a target of longing. Baudrillard has also identified competitiveness as an important aspect of collection: “The joy of possession in its most profound form now derives from the value that objects can have for others and from the fact of depriving them thereof” (Baudrillard 2005:105).

While Baudrillard uses this as a springboard to discuss the controversial freudian concepts of “anal-sadistic impulses” and “castration anxiety” that according to him are inherent in

collectors, I still believe he is on to something important. As long as others crave and deem your object as unique, it is unique in some sense. It has to be, otherwise the other collectors wouldn't want it. Furthermore, as long as they do not own it, this is something that makes your collection stand out and provides it with a context where it actually is unique to some extent. In Baudrillard's discussion of the importance uniqueness have for the collector, he retells a story about a book collector. This anecdote relates the role of competition or, rather, jealousy, to that of uniqueness.

This account of things is buttressed by another story told by Maurice Rheims. A bibliophile specializing in unique copies learns one day that a New York bookseller is offering a book that is identical to one of his prize possessions. He rushes to New York, acquires the book, summons a lawyer, has the offending second copy burnt before him and elicits an affidavit substantiating this act of destruction. Once he is back home, he inserts this legal document in his copy, now once again unique, and goes to bed happy. Should we conclude that in this case the series has been abolished? Not at all. It only seems so, because the collector’s original copy was in fact invested with the value of all virtual copies, and by destroying the rival copy the book collector was merely reinstituting the perfection of a compromised symbol.

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What is interesting here is Baudrillard's observation that the destruction of the other copy does

not “abolish the series”. The series is still there, the legal document proves that. However, what

the destruction does accomplish, is to remove the possibility of another collector acquiring a copy. This also helps explain why it is so hard for collectors to part with pieces of their collection. First of all, parting with a previously owned collectible, makes the collection's incompleteness painfully apparent. While sequestered objects are intended to fill imagined holes in collections, parting with a previously owned object leaves a collection with a very real and actual hole. The object you parted with furthermore becomes “obviously” unique, as you now lack it and you already have a place for it in your collection. Parting with collectibles is utterly detrimental to the strategy of displacing meaning.

3.7. Displaced meaning and non-functionality

There are also strategies that you can utilize to keep bridges from becoming useless after acquisition. I briefly mentioned such a strategy in my discussion of the mechanics of displaced meaning, namely, the strategy of avoidance (McCracken 1988:112). The strategy is rather simple, and essentially comes down to avoid using the bridge after it has been acquired. In this way you have the bridge safely stored in your possession and within reach, but don't risk its destruction by

actually trying to access the ideal.

We can quickly see that this is a strategy that is actually utilized by collectors. There are many examples, one such can be found in John Bloom's study of American baseball cards

collectors. In this article he finds it striking how few collectors actually “looked at or enjoyed their cards after they bought them”.

Collectors were more likely to have their cards stored away in a closet, on a shelf, or even in a safety deposit box, than out in the open where they could look at or admire them. As cards were not used in any tangible way, even collectors who complained about greed could only articulate the value of their cards in terms of exchange.

(Bloom 2002:81)

Bloom does not attempt to offer any explanation for why this seems to be the case. However, the core of his argument seems to be that the collectors of baseball cards are collecting primarily for nostalgic reasons. Bloom observes that the collectors of baseball cards in his study are primarily white, middle-class men, who share “a common nostalgia for a white patriarchal symbolic order” (Bloom 2002:86). He also writes that, “by associating baseball with a stable and coherent past, collectors articulated cultural ideals that establish whiteness as a 'norm' central to the symbolic order that they were protecting” (Bloom 2002:84, my emphasis).