A bare-chested man with dreadlocks skateboards through Adams Morgan (Washington, DC), an iguana perched on his shoulder, and a selfie stick extending from his hand. A young woman rides the New York City subway with a large snake draped around her neck, and numerous riders crowd around taking videos with their smartphones.
What are We Actually Watching?
These images don’t appear to be spontaneous expressions or political protests—they seem more like carefully choreographed performances designed to go viral. Unlike traditional forms of protest, artistic expression, or ideological movements like the Situationists, these performances are calculated rather than accidental.
The content creators aren’t trying to shift culture, make a point, or inspire debate.
Importantly, the images (and videos) are neither made nor consumed by one demographic. People of all genders, races, ages, and levels of celebrity status produce and view this content.
Meanwhile, there’s no shortage of things, people, and organizations (e.g., smartphones, social media platforms, content producers, and viewers) contributing to this phenomenon.
If we look long enough, the algorithms, because of their power, dominate what we see online.
What’s Going on with This Content?
The underlying message seems clear: producers of this content want their videos to gain attention, and the way to achieve this is by creating attention-seeking content.
To be clear, this commentary isn’t a rant about “kids these days.” It’s a reflection on the shallowness of the spectacle itself. If the goal is to be noticed, mission accomplished.
But then what? Is viral visibility an end in itself? Is sharing a personal confession, pulling a wild stunt, a meaningful self-expression, or just a louder, more absurd version of screaming into the void?
Debord Was Right
Although Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation (1981) and Boorstin’s The Image: A Guide to Pseudo-events in America (1961) also explore the dominance of mediated reality, Guy Debord’s The Society of the Spectacle (1967) offers a particularly prescient critique. Debord argued that in capitalist societies, everyday life becomes increasingly dominated by representations—images, appearances, and commodified experiences. Rather than engaging with the world directly, individuals relate to it through these mediated images, resulting in passivity, alienation, and social fragmentation. While Debord could not have foreseen the rise of social media, his insights anticipate many of its most troubling effects.
The Real Cost
The more critical issue is how many otherwise creative people spend considerable resources creating this content. Meanwhile, as consumers of this work, we waste our time going down rabbit holes, permitting the absurd to drown out the urgent.
In a world dealing with urgent problems—inequality, climate change, crimes of the powerful—devoting our energy to producing and consuming this kind of content feels like a wasted opportunity.
I’m reminded of Seth Godin, who has famously said that you may win the internet for the day, but then what? In a world full of real issues and real needs, there are more constructive, impactful ways to stand out. If you want attention, maybe it’s time to consider earning it by doing something recognizably helpful and prosocial.
Photo Credit:
Creator: Ibrahim D.
Title: Social Media Icons of the 2020s
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Social_media_collection_2020s.png10801920Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-04-20 13:22:402025-04-20 13:37:31Social Media’s Never-Ending Replacement of Substance with Spectacle
Across the arts, new genres continually emerge. Some gain traction and become part of the mainstream, while others disappear after a brief moment of interest.
Behind the scenes, some creative people integrate these new forms into their work, while others experiment briefly before returning to more familiar styles.
In music, for example, talented musicians are respected for their versatility. They can play multiple instruments, write and perform songs across different genres, and take on various creative projects. Some produce interesting and engaging work when trying different styles, while others may falter and return to more familiar patterns.
For example, most recently, Beyoncé, most closely connected to Rhythm & Blues and Pop music, won numerous Grammys for her country album Cowboy Carter. Likewise, Jon Batiste, best known for jazz and blues, recently released Beethoven Blues, a classical solo piano album that marks a stylistic departure for him.
But what happens when well-respected musicians play reggae?
Reggae, a genre deeply rooted in Jamaican culture and history, is strongly connected to Rastafarianism, social justice, and post-colonial identity.
Admittedly, there are different precursors (Rocksteady, Ska), types (e.g., Roots Reggae, Dancehall, Dub, Lovers Rock), and derivatives (e.g., Ragga, Reggae Fusion, Reggaeton) to reggae.
Take, for instance, Frank Zappa’s experimentation with reggae in his song “Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up.” Zappa infused reggae rhythms into his progressive rock style, blending his trademark complexity with the genre’s laid-back groove.
Similarly, David Bowie dabbled in reggae influences in tracks like “Don’t Look Down” from his Tonight album, which incorporated reggae-inspired arrangements into his art-rock aesthetic.
More contemporary examples include Alicia Keys’ “Wasted Energy.” She layered reggae beats with her soulful vocals, creating a modern blend while paying homage to reggae’s roots.
Challenges of Cross-Genre Experimentation
When creative people explore genres outside their traditional context, it invites questions of creativity, authenticity, and cultural sensitivity. Even worse, criticisms of opportunism or cultural appropriation are often directed towards these people and their work. But are these criticisms valid, especially if these songs are only a tiny portion of the artist’s repertoire? Is a genre porous or policed? Who gets praised for crossing genres—and who doesn’t? Do commercial motives prima face mean the final product is inferior?
Opportunities in Genre Crossing
On the other hand, this kind of experimentation can bring fresh energy to a genre (especially one that appears to have spent its course), attract new listeners, and foster cross-cultural appreciation and further creativity.
Although the positive and negative aspects of this phenomenon can be debated, I think the most critical issue is whether the music or song resonates with the listener. And if you are a reggae aficionado, do these songs shock your sensibilities? If so, why? If you are a general listener of contemporary music, why do you like it or not?
Conclusion
Ultimately, when respected musicians venture into reggae—or any genre outside their usual repertoire—they walk a fine line between homage and misstep. While some attempts may be dismissed as inauthentic or opportunistic, others succeed in honoring the genre’s legacy while pushing its boundaries in meaningful and creative ways. These artistic forays underscore the evolving nature of music itself: porous, adaptive, and shaped by those willing to take creative risks. At its best, genre-crossing invites audiences to listen differently, reconsider boundaries, and perhaps discover something new in both the familiar and the unfamiliar.
Image Credit
“One drop” sixteenth-note drum pattern” prevalent in Reggae Music
Hyacinth
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-04-05-at-9.58.00 AM.png8402876Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-04-06 12:02:342025-04-06 13:02:02What Happens When Musicians Step Outside Their Genre?
Since people started using laptops, they’ve put stickers, DIY art, and protective sleeves on them. More than decoration, these additions often reflect identity, belonging, and belief.
While individuals may not always think deeply about their choices, every sign, symbol, slogan, or design affixed to a laptop cover tells a story.
Laptops as Modern-Day Bumper Stickers
Laptops function as the bumper stickers of the digital age. While bumper stickers are typically seen in passing, laptops are often displayed in personal and professional settings—classrooms, coffee shops, libraries, and conferences. Unlike cars, which are more publicly anonymous, laptops are personal objects that people often take into shared public spaces. Their messages can reveal affiliations, preferences, workplaces, schools, and subcultures.
What people choose to display on their laptops varies widely. Some covers are carefully curated, while others have content that was impulsively applied, each choice contributing to an ongoing visual dialogue. A “Black Lives Matter” sticker on one laptop and a “Don’t Tread on Me” emblem on another immediately establish ideological positions. A sticker of a niche band signals a particular cultural or aesthetic affiliation, while an Apple logo may suggest loyalty to a corporate brand.
Varieties of Laptop Cover Customization
The decorations on our laptops serve multiple functions, whether conscious or subconscious (means of self-expression, performative, defensive, or a means of finding community). Here are a few common semiotic categories:
Political and Social Identity– Stickers supporting causes, movements, or ideologies are markers of belief and allegiance. They can attract like-minded individuals or create friction in shared spaces.
Cultural and Subcultural Affiliation– Band logos, anime characters, or references to niche internet culture indicate membership in specific cultural spheres.
Humor and Irony– Some visual customization serves as inside jokes, signaling a sense of humor or playfulness to those who “get it.”
Professional or Academic Identity– Logos from businesses, educational institutions, or professional organizations can serve as subtle networking tools or credibility markers.
Aesthetic Choices– Some laptop covers are adorned with purely decorative stickers, patterns, or artistic designs, emphasizing personal taste over explicit messaging.
Personal Reflections on Laptop Decoration
After observing laptops in various settings, I started thinking about my own choices. Whenever I get a new laptop, I personalize it with stickers, quotes, or slogans, partly to identify it in a house filled with similar devices but also as a form of self-expression.
Currently, my laptop cover features two primary messages: one in Japanese and one in English. The Japanese text, when translated, reads, “Fuck The World,” a phrase that resonates with my rebellious streak. The English message urges people to recognize their agency and act upon it. These two statements—one defiant, one motivational—exist in tension yet complement each other. Interestingly, only one person has ever asked me about them: a native Japanese speaker.
This experience highlights an interesting aspect of laptop semiotics: while stickers are often meant to be seen, their impact depends on who looks and whether they engage with the message. Some people use their laptop covers to start conversations; others use them to signal affiliation without inviting dialogue.
The Power of Laptop Semiotics
While some people deliberately choose to leave the covers of their laptops bare, this lack of customization is also a form of signaling (e.g., a nod to professionalism, neutrality, or disinterest in visual identity).
More broadly, how we decorate (or don’t decorate) our laptops reflects a subtle but meaningful form of self-expression.
Like all personal choices, laptop decoration exists in a space between intention and interpretation. Someone might slap a sticker on their laptop simply because they like the design, but others may see it as an endorsement of a cause or an affiliation. Even seemingly neutral choices—such as a plain cover in a room full of professionals can send messages about personal style, priorities, or professional identity.
What’s on a laptop can also shape social interactions. A bold political sticker might spark conversation or create distance. A heavily customized cover could signal creativity and individuality, while a minimalist aesthetic might suggest a preference for sleek professionalism over personal branding.
Ultimately, the stories we tell through our laptops are shaped not just by what we choose to display, but by how others interpret those choices.
Whether carefully curated or casually applied, the images on our laptop covers are part of an unspoken dialogue about identity, values, and belonging.
Photo Credit
Title: My laptop cover
Photographer: Jeffrey Ian Ross
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/My-laptop-cover-e1743255136807.jpg567600Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-03-30 03:40:222025-03-30 04:03:00The Semiotics of Laptop Computer Covers
Social Media’s Never-Ending Replacement of Substance with Spectacle
/by Jeffrey Ian RossA bare-chested man with dreadlocks skateboards through Adams Morgan (Washington, DC), an iguana perched on his shoulder, and a selfie stick extending from his hand. A young woman rides the New York City subway with a large snake draped around her neck, and numerous riders crowd around taking videos with their smartphones.
What are We Actually Watching?
These images don’t appear to be spontaneous expressions or political protests—they seem more like carefully choreographed performances designed to go viral. Unlike traditional forms of protest, artistic expression, or ideological movements like the Situationists, these performances are calculated rather than accidental.
The content creators aren’t trying to shift culture, make a point, or inspire debate.
Importantly, the images (and videos) are neither made nor consumed by one demographic. People of all genders, races, ages, and levels of celebrity status produce and view this content.
Meanwhile, there’s no shortage of things, people, and organizations (e.g., smartphones, social media platforms, content producers, and viewers) contributing to this phenomenon.
If we look long enough, the algorithms, because of their power, dominate what we see online.
What’s Going on with This Content?
The underlying message seems clear: producers of this content want their videos to gain attention, and the way to achieve this is by creating attention-seeking content.
To be clear, this commentary isn’t a rant about “kids these days.” It’s a reflection on the shallowness of the spectacle itself. If the goal is to be noticed, mission accomplished.
But then what? Is viral visibility an end in itself? Is sharing a personal confession, pulling a wild stunt, a meaningful self-expression, or just a louder, more absurd version of screaming into the void?
Debord Was Right
Although Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation (1981) and Boorstin’s The Image: A Guide to Pseudo-events in America (1961) also explore the dominance of mediated reality, Guy Debord’s The Society of the Spectacle (1967) offers a particularly prescient critique. Debord argued that in capitalist societies, everyday life becomes increasingly dominated by representations—images, appearances, and commodified experiences. Rather than engaging with the world directly, individuals relate to it through these mediated images, resulting in passivity, alienation, and social fragmentation. While Debord could not have foreseen the rise of social media, his insights anticipate many of its most troubling effects.
The Real Cost
The more critical issue is how many otherwise creative people spend considerable resources creating this content. Meanwhile, as consumers of this work, we waste our time going down rabbit holes, permitting the absurd to drown out the urgent.
In a world dealing with urgent problems—inequality, climate change, crimes of the powerful—devoting our energy to producing and consuming this kind of content feels like a wasted opportunity.
I’m reminded of Seth Godin, who has famously said that you may win the internet for the day, but then what? In a world full of real issues and real needs, there are more constructive, impactful ways to stand out. If you want attention, maybe it’s time to consider earning it by doing something recognizably helpful and prosocial.
Photo Credit:
Creator: Ibrahim D.
Title: Social Media Icons of the 2020s
What Happens When Musicians Step Outside Their Genre?
/by Jeffrey Ian RossAcross the arts, new genres continually emerge. Some gain traction and become part of the mainstream, while others disappear after a brief moment of interest.
Behind the scenes, some creative people integrate these new forms into their work, while others experiment briefly before returning to more familiar styles.
In music, for example, talented musicians are respected for their versatility. They can play multiple instruments, write and perform songs across different genres, and take on various creative projects. Some produce interesting and engaging work when trying different styles, while others may falter and return to more familiar patterns.
For example, most recently, Beyoncé, most closely connected to Rhythm & Blues and Pop music, won numerous Grammys for her country album Cowboy Carter. Likewise, Jon Batiste, best known for jazz and blues, recently released Beethoven Blues, a classical solo piano album that marks a stylistic departure for him.
But what happens when well-respected musicians play reggae?
Reggae, a genre deeply rooted in Jamaican culture and history, is strongly connected to Rastafarianism, social justice, and post-colonial identity.
Admittedly, there are different precursors (Rocksteady, Ska), types (e.g., Roots Reggae, Dancehall, Dub, Lovers Rock), and derivatives (e.g., Ragga, Reggae Fusion, Reggaeton) to reggae.
Take, for instance, Frank Zappa’s experimentation with reggae in his song “Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up.” Zappa infused reggae rhythms into his progressive rock style, blending his trademark complexity with the genre’s laid-back groove.
Similarly, David Bowie dabbled in reggae influences in tracks like “Don’t Look Down” from his Tonight album, which incorporated reggae-inspired arrangements into his art-rock aesthetic.
More contemporary examples include Alicia Keys’ “Wasted Energy.” She layered reggae beats with her soulful vocals, creating a modern blend while paying homage to reggae’s roots.
Challenges of Cross-Genre Experimentation
When creative people explore genres outside their traditional context, it invites questions of creativity, authenticity, and cultural sensitivity. Even worse, criticisms of opportunism or cultural appropriation are often directed towards these people and their work. But are these criticisms valid, especially if these songs are only a tiny portion of the artist’s repertoire? Is a genre porous or policed? Who gets praised for crossing genres—and who doesn’t? Do commercial motives prima face mean the final product is inferior?
Opportunities in Genre Crossing
On the other hand, this kind of experimentation can bring fresh energy to a genre (especially one that appears to have spent its course), attract new listeners, and foster cross-cultural appreciation and further creativity.
Although the positive and negative aspects of this phenomenon can be debated, I think the most critical issue is whether the music or song resonates with the listener. And if you are a reggae aficionado, do these songs shock your sensibilities? If so, why? If you are a general listener of contemporary music, why do you like it or not?
Conclusion
Ultimately, when respected musicians venture into reggae—or any genre outside their usual repertoire—they walk a fine line between homage and misstep. While some attempts may be dismissed as inauthentic or opportunistic, others succeed in honoring the genre’s legacy while pushing its boundaries in meaningful and creative ways. These artistic forays underscore the evolving nature of music itself: porous, adaptive, and shaped by those willing to take creative risks. At its best, genre-crossing invites audiences to listen differently, reconsider boundaries, and perhaps discover something new in both the familiar and the unfamiliar.
Image Credit
“One drop” sixteenth-note drum pattern” prevalent in Reggae Music
Hyacinth
The Semiotics of Laptop Computer Covers
/by Jeffrey Ian RossSince people started using laptops, they’ve put stickers, DIY art, and protective sleeves on them. More than decoration, these additions often reflect identity, belonging, and belief.
While individuals may not always think deeply about their choices, every sign, symbol, slogan, or design affixed to a laptop cover tells a story.
Laptops as Modern-Day Bumper Stickers
Laptops function as the bumper stickers of the digital age. While bumper stickers are typically seen in passing, laptops are often displayed in personal and professional settings—classrooms, coffee shops, libraries, and conferences. Unlike cars, which are more publicly anonymous, laptops are personal objects that people often take into shared public spaces. Their messages can reveal affiliations, preferences, workplaces, schools, and subcultures.
What people choose to display on their laptops varies widely. Some covers are carefully curated, while others have content that was impulsively applied, each choice contributing to an ongoing visual dialogue. A “Black Lives Matter” sticker on one laptop and a “Don’t Tread on Me” emblem on another immediately establish ideological positions. A sticker of a niche band signals a particular cultural or aesthetic affiliation, while an Apple logo may suggest loyalty to a corporate brand.
Varieties of Laptop Cover Customization
The decorations on our laptops serve multiple functions, whether conscious or subconscious (means of self-expression, performative, defensive, or a means of finding community). Here are a few common semiotic categories:
Personal Reflections on Laptop Decoration
After observing laptops in various settings, I started thinking about my own choices. Whenever I get a new laptop, I personalize it with stickers, quotes, or slogans, partly to identify it in a house filled with similar devices but also as a form of self-expression.
Currently, my laptop cover features two primary messages: one in Japanese and one in English. The Japanese text, when translated, reads, “Fuck The World,” a phrase that resonates with my rebellious streak. The English message urges people to recognize their agency and act upon it. These two statements—one defiant, one motivational—exist in tension yet complement each other. Interestingly, only one person has ever asked me about them: a native Japanese speaker.
This experience highlights an interesting aspect of laptop semiotics: while stickers are often meant to be seen, their impact depends on who looks and whether they engage with the message. Some people use their laptop covers to start conversations; others use them to signal affiliation without inviting dialogue.
The Power of Laptop Semiotics
While some people deliberately choose to leave the covers of their laptops bare, this lack of customization is also a form of signaling (e.g., a nod to professionalism, neutrality, or disinterest in visual identity).
More broadly, how we decorate (or don’t decorate) our laptops reflects a subtle but meaningful form of self-expression.
Like all personal choices, laptop decoration exists in a space between intention and interpretation. Someone might slap a sticker on their laptop simply because they like the design, but others may see it as an endorsement of a cause or an affiliation. Even seemingly neutral choices—such as a plain cover in a room full of professionals can send messages about personal style, priorities, or professional identity.
What’s on a laptop can also shape social interactions. A bold political sticker might spark conversation or create distance. A heavily customized cover could signal creativity and individuality, while a minimalist aesthetic might suggest a preference for sleek professionalism over personal branding.
Ultimately, the stories we tell through our laptops are shaped not just by what we choose to display, but by how others interpret those choices.
Whether carefully curated or casually applied, the images on our laptop covers are part of an unspoken dialogue about identity, values, and belonging.
Photo Credit
Title: My laptop cover
Photographer: Jeffrey Ian Ross