Alien Song, Victor Navone

“To the extent that current methods of detection and treatment fail or fall short, America’s breast-cancer cult can be judged as an outbreak of mass delusion, celebrating survivorhood by downplaying mortality and promoting obedience to medical protocols known to have limited efficacy. And although we may imagine ourselves to be well past the era of patriarchal medicine, obedience is the message behind the infantilizing theme in breast-cancer culture, as represented by the teddy bears, the crayons, and the prevailing pinkness. You are encouraged to regress to a little-girl state, to suspend critical judgment, and to accept whatever measures the doctors, as parent surrogates, choose to impose.” Welcome to Cancerland
by Barbara Ehrenreich
Harper’s Magazine, November 2001

The first weekend after my diagnosis I made Janice and Sz take me down to the Dragon Boat races where there was a whole slew of ABreast in a Boat breast cancer “survivors”, paddles in hand, taking to the water with style and great energy. After their race, the survivor teams held carnations in the air high above their votes in tribute to those women who had died. I knew that watching was going to be hard, but I needed to begin to imagine myself in one of those boats, and soon, paddling my way to survival. I was haunted by the voice-over narration during this very moving event. Maybe I am just an over-achiever, but I was struck by an intense pressure both to meet the challenge of being a “survivor” and to feel a fearful guilt that I might be always-already a loser in the survival game. What if the probability of death and the will to agency don’t actually intersect in a Lance Armstrong moment of skilled determination?

There is a hard kernel of an obscured Real - a residual by-product of deliberate ideological distortion - in the “survivor” discourse that is foundational within the breast cancer community. I am supposed to be learning how to “be a survivor” of breast cancer. How can I not want to survive? After all, I have just undergone radical surgery and will in all likelihood be faced with countless further treatments all aimed at producing enhanced longevity in the face of an illness characterized at its root by its relentless capacity to cut life short. Do I just have a bad attitude? What is wrong with the discourse of “survival”?

Go and watch Alien Song, an animation created by Victor Navone that went viral online a while ago. It’s a perfect enactment of the Real that lurks in the survival discourse. Full of energy and passion, mid-song, our friendly alien is crushed by the disco ball. I loved it when I first saw it years ago, and it seems especially insightful now.

Yeah, I want to survive. But cancer is a process of cellular proliferation. It just takes one cell. If it shows up somewhere else, well, there goes “survival” and I don’t want to always-already feel guilty that somehow I have just not been strong enough, or virtuous enough, and have therefore failed the survival challenge because I didn’t try hard enough, or I wasn’t cheerful enough. And I am no god damn hero.