ABSTRACT
It is therefore clear that the peculiar sociology of graffiti, an activity embraced by troops, vandals, hippies, perverts and revolutionaries alike, is given sustained treatment by Pynchon-both directly and indirectly. The use and abuse of graffiti, from the street to the art gallery, from the very bored to the very dangerous, provides a broader context for our central fragment. Moreover, the “authenticity” of graffiti as a means of communal and individual expression comes under scrutiny (as exemplified by Pynchon’s short history of Kilroy). “WE’RE RIGHT UP THEIR ASS AND THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW IT!” How is it possible to “authenticate” this fragment, especially if my intention here is to explore its implications through the prism of Enlightenment? Is it already a “simulacrum” of resistance? Does authenticity actually matter in political terms? Indeed, according to Baudrillard, simulation is “infinitely more dangerous” than “real” transgression and violence since “it always suggests, above and beyond its object, that law and order
themselves might really be nothing more than a simulation.”7 There are some key questions emerging here that will all be developed more thoroughly in due course. Secondly, the process of sending and receiving messages (graffiti being one possible manifestation of this process) is another recurring trope in Pynchon-testing out the political viability of various communicative and epistolary systems. Consider the following incident from The Crying of Lot 49 in this respect. Oedipa Maas conducts a radio interview with her husband Mucho after escaping from the “siege” at the Hilarius Psychiatric Clinic:
Mucho thrust the mike in front of her, mumbling, ‘You’re on, just be yourself.’ Then in his earnest broadcasting voice, ‘How do you feel about this terrible thing?’
