1We do not bear a straightforwardly passive relationship with the ubiquitous regime of the logo-sign. As dwellers of the eternity of the consumer present, the luxury of our boredom allows us to pick and choose. The overwhelming celerity with which the everyday perpetually transforms its packaging, the excessively rapid turnover of signs has condensed our historical perspective. Tomorrow I will buy that new pair of shoes. As congenital sufferers of a logorrhea of the logo, our chatter is articulated by product placement. We become active in distinguishing ourselves with these loaded and at once empty signifiers. Whether linguistically or graphically organized the condensation of ideas, facilitated by the economy of the logo is allowed through the operation of the sign. It is beneath the dazzling lights of signification that we can find the logo, a tool bandied about by ‘ideas men.’ Signification is that logic upon which the logo depends. Though the mechanism that silently determines our findings remains obscure, as good little consumers we have nonetheless done our research. Our choice, seemingly personal, but actually orchestrated by the dissimulated forces of the social, perpetuates a cycle of exchange, the endless circulation of logo-signs. In compliance with our socio-economic status, one logo demarcated product has more symbolic purchase than another. Our habitual belief that we have a choice, and that this choice is well informed, allows the naturalisation of logo-signs in such a way that subtle, often unspoken thresholds between taste communities become reified. There persists, all the same, a traffic across such thresholds, and although it would appear that there is little room to move, our product choices are not necessarily all determined in advance. Though our habitation is one composed of multitudinous worldly signs, this does not mean that it is impossible to discover some way out, or perhaps some other mode of operation for the logo-sign.
2Our taste for the logo-sign is augmented by what might be considered an apprenticeship in signs, one that commences with early childhood. As the philosopher Gilles Deleuze suggests, “to learn is first of all to consider a substance, an object, a being as if it emitted signs to be deciphered, interpreted” (Deleuze, 2000: 4). As it relates to the logo this apprenticeship and the desire it produces operates almost exclusively with what Deleuze has called the worldly sign. As for the world, “there is no milieu that emits and concentrates so many signs, in such reduced space, at so great a rate” (5). And there is no world that is more banal than that of the logo. And yet, at once, it is by way of our reading of the logo that we imagine another world, better, brighter and more beautiful. This is the transcendent logic of the logo. The banalisation of this world, the one I must face everyday, is effectuated in the desire for this imaginary other place that the logo invites me to enter. If I buy that pair of shoes I will find a suitable lover (presumably also a shoe fetishist) who will steal me away from the present drudgery of my life. We use logos to cover over the damp spots on our threadbare walls, to sugar coat the unpalatable real. Could it be, nonetheless, that the insistence of the logo can teach us something about how to manage our signs, or even create new ones?
3By what practice can we make the logo immanent, or reverse the emptying out of the quotidian that its logic demands? How might we secure “relations with others based not in identification or recognition, but encounter and new compositions” (Deleuze, 2001: 15)? The efficacy of the logo-sign is related to our capacity for recognition and our desire to secure identity. In response to our propensity toward consumer boredom, there unfolds increasingly sophisticated morphological permutations of logos and the products, both material and immaterial, they designate. The fact that we are apt to the immediate, frequently unconscious recognition of the logo-sign allows it an elasticity of expression. All the same, there is an insistent emptiness in worldly signs, as witnessed in the logo, “one does not think and one does not act, but one makes signs,” (Deleuze, 2000: 6) the more the better. I am not laughing, I am merely making the gestures that suggest the idea of laughter. I am not a sportsperson, but I am wearing garb that would suggest a healthy and active life. We are even more sophisticated than this, for we can appreciate the multiple levels of significance that the running shoe seemingly offers its wearer. The worldly sign, and I would like to suggest that the logo-sign is an exemplary instance of this, “anticipates action as it does thought, annuls thought as it does action, and declares itself adequate: whence its stereotyped aspect and its vacuity” (6-7). It could be that Deleuze is too harsh here. The consumer can be a sophisticated actor, even if they do frequently become indiscernible from the logo of their choice.
4Deleuze and Guattari deplore the ‘ideas men,’ who have wrought such havoc, who have made of our desire something empty and unproductive. They accuse these “shameless and inane” advertising executives of having requisitioned the philosophical concept for their add campaigns, making of it a commercial product (Deleuze and Guattari, 1994: 10). Logos, the word of the god of consumerism. The ideas men know that the strength of the logo-sign resides in the fact that, “it doesn’t matter what it means, it’s still signifying” (Deleuze and Guattari, 1987: 112). The logo-sign holds us firmly under its seductive sway. It permeates our affective landscape, impressing itself upon us so thoroughly that our very corporeal existence becomes host to a swarm of signs. We ourselves circulate as so many signs, carrying on our bodies innumerable minor signs and insignias. We inhabit a “network without beginning or end…an amorphous atmospheric continuum” (112), from which it is frequently difficult to distinguish ourselves. Instead, we become mere ciphers of our consumer behaviour, which will be noted and collated with each electro-plastic transaction. This is what Deleuze and Guattari have called the shadow world of signs, where signs refer to other signs ad infinitum, and where “the statement survives its object, the name survives its owner” (113). Here, although it offers little nourishment, “the simulation of a pack of noodles has become the true concept” (Deleuze and Guattari, 1994: 10).
5The logo-sign operates by way of its relationship with an idea, or that concept stolen by ideas men. It is a vague idea, perhaps little more than a feeling that arouses an ill-defined desire that we believe will be consummated in the acquisition of some object or other. The work of the logo-sign is to designate a product-object, but this is a relation we tend to reverse, “we think that the ‘object’ itself has the secret of the sign it emits.” (Deleuze, 2000: 27) Ironically, the habitual assumption by which we think we can count on the “possession of things or on the consumption of objects,” an assumption augmented by the logo-sign, generally leaves us dissatisfied. Why, finally, despite our conquest of the object, do we so often feel that something is missing? Because the logo-sign that attaches itself to the object induces in us, the consumer, a sensibility toward the complex of logo and product. We become convinced that the object accommodates a fixed content that exists as a doppelganger for the obscure idea that has begun to plague our fantasies. It is important that the idea the logo communicates is vague and inexact, for we should not be given the opportunity to compare the registers of product and logo too closely. We achieve the object, we take it into our possession and all the gradually accumulated consumer pleasure begins to dissipate. The idea that aroused our desire has silently and surreptitiously slipped away. With what remarkable ease we become hooked. Then, the perpetuity of the consumer present demands that we promptly go in search of our next conquest, as little by little the world gets used up.
6Such are the highs and lows of logo induced consumer activity. That fiery and brief flush we suffer when we finally act on our desire to purchase, to own, to sport that particular product (my pair of shoes), makes the heart race. Quite literally, the blood is caused to rise. But this consumer glow tends to be followed by a vague, queasy sense of consumer guilt, which is succeeded in turn by consumer amnesia. The forgetfulness that assuages our consumer dissatisfaction keeps the logo-world turning. If we assume that we cannot escape the reign of the logo-sign and its logic, what can we instead choose to do with it? How do we return from our transcendent distractions to a field of immanence? How do we address the ever unfolding problems of this difficult world, day in, day out?
7This difficult world, a temporal maelstrom of immanence is only thinly disguised by our habits. Though it gives us little purchase, its unending upsurge of novelty surely offers some clues. As has been suggested above, the logo-sign depends on our well-tuned faculty for recognition. I see the same again, or the same with minor variations. Where is the novelty here? I circle around the constant of an obscure idea that draws me in and then, at the last moment, mysteriously escapes. How does the logo-sign instead become the sign of an unexpected encounter that encourages creative endeavours, especially when it always seems that the ideas men are one step ahead? Ideas men know full well the attraction of the new and are well practiced in dressing old concepts in the garb of the novel. They know how to deploy the logo, often setting it loose on the field of immanence where it will catch us unawares only to draw us away from real problems and productive engagements.
8Deleuze tells us that it is the plane of immanence that leads us into and not away from a life. This is the milieu in which we actualise possibilities at once as continuing to address the problems of the here and now as it slips away (Deleuze, 2001: 31). In part it is a matter of disentangling ourselves from the stultification of brand oriented identity formation, manifested in our intricate taxonomies of consumer-subjects and product-objects. Deleuze incites us to consider instead a participation in the impersonal process of singularisation. This has nothing to do with the spectacularly particular individual, her ownership of a value laden object, and her belief that such acquisitiveness will lead her to a higher actuality. The work required demands our extrication from the careful consumer training we have received, wherein we have determined that we are subjects of a certain genre of product in need of appropriate object accessories. It may simply be a matter of practicing a logo-awareness, of readjusting our consumer mores so that they align with the presentiment of other, less exploitative possibilities. We might consider all the minor relations, silent, invisible and absolutely crucial that interact to deliver the items that populate our consumer world. By these endlessly reconfigured relations, we are inextricably gathered into other lives, into the ebb and flow of uncountable singularities.
