The Sepia Tinge of Decay
Mar. 20th, 2019 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rynlingEcho of footsteps
A sharp fluorescent buzzing
Empty grocery store
I spent way too much time watching Dan Bell's Dead Mall series on YouTube last night, and it creeped me out. Dan Bell himself is appreciative of the period architecture and kitsch aesthetic, and he doesn't film in a way that attempts to create elements of horror where none exist, but there's still something upsetting about these places.
This video series is all very Rust Belt; and, based on the specific locations, I would assume that this slowly creeping neglect is connected to both rural depopulation and the institutionalized economic marginalization of Black communities. That's upsetting enough in and of itself, of course.
But there's also a more universal memento mori quality to these videos that inspires a dread of cultural senescence.
I feel like someone should make a video series along the same lines about abandoned websites, because they give off the same sort of energy. It's not nostalgia, because the affect is distinctly negative, but it's similar. I think what makes the urban exploration of abandoned malls unpleasant is that they're "abandoned" instead of "closed," meaning that the lights are still on and the water is still running. If they were completely shut down and gradually being overtaken by nature, they would be beautiful, but there are still people inside these almost-dead buildings, and that's disturbing. In the same way, online spaces like Blogspot/Blogger feel weird because there are still a few people using them, and websites for children's movies from the 2000s are a little eerie because someone is still paying to host them. You want to feel nostalgia when you look at the past; but then, when you realize that it's not safely in the past, it's uncomfortable and uncanny.
Also, can I be real for a second? Tumblr is starting to take on an "abandoned mall" feeling, and I don't like it.
A sharp fluorescent buzzing
Empty grocery store
I spent way too much time watching Dan Bell's Dead Mall series on YouTube last night, and it creeped me out. Dan Bell himself is appreciative of the period architecture and kitsch aesthetic, and he doesn't film in a way that attempts to create elements of horror where none exist, but there's still something upsetting about these places.
This video series is all very Rust Belt; and, based on the specific locations, I would assume that this slowly creeping neglect is connected to both rural depopulation and the institutionalized economic marginalization of Black communities. That's upsetting enough in and of itself, of course.
But there's also a more universal memento mori quality to these videos that inspires a dread of cultural senescence.
I feel like someone should make a video series along the same lines about abandoned websites, because they give off the same sort of energy. It's not nostalgia, because the affect is distinctly negative, but it's similar. I think what makes the urban exploration of abandoned malls unpleasant is that they're "abandoned" instead of "closed," meaning that the lights are still on and the water is still running. If they were completely shut down and gradually being overtaken by nature, they would be beautiful, but there are still people inside these almost-dead buildings, and that's disturbing. In the same way, online spaces like Blogspot/Blogger feel weird because there are still a few people using them, and websites for children's movies from the 2000s are a little eerie because someone is still paying to host them. You want to feel nostalgia when you look at the past; but then, when you realize that it's not safely in the past, it's uncomfortable and uncanny.
Also, can I be real for a second? Tumblr is starting to take on an "abandoned mall" feeling, and I don't like it.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-26 02:06 pm (UTC)And an abandoned mall evokes a different experience from say, an abandoned mill or an abandoned hospital. Hell, I live in a small town where this massive, abandoned WWII mill just sits unused in the middle of town. Some people want it knocked down to be used as something else (there's been talk of the commuter rail extending out to here using that space, but considering Boston can't make up their minds half the time about the MBTA, I wouldn't be surprised if it takes fifty years for them to come to a consensus about this). Some want it to be repurposed into homes or businesses. Others want it to be preserved for... history? I think? It's not like anyone's running tours through it due to there being some kind of toxic residue in the actual building that requires way too much money to clean (hence why no one has knocked it down completely yet). I just want to be able to finish my A2 cosplay so I can sneak in with a photographer friend and do some Nier: Automata shoots, because man, does it scream post-post-apocalypse vibes.
I find it fascinating how these types of places strike different chords within people, whether it's apathy or anger or awe. These places used to be alive and now they're not. But they're also not dead. It's like they've been denied to ability to do so and thus are preserved for... some reason or another. I totally get that vibe with some facets of the internet, too. Like whenever I hear someone mention LJ in the here and now, I'm shocked that it's still kicking. Though more likely than not, it's just that someone forgot to pull the plug on it before leaving the house.
Also, don't mind me, I'm finally commenting on all your A+ posts I've been meaning to comment on, but work got in the way.