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raybearI sometimes get into discussions with people about buddhist approaches to pop culture and art and the lack of information on that even though it might seem mutually exclusive, it seems impossible to have American buddhism without it, and this morning I read this in Esquire at S&J's house and to me it fits into that discussion, even though it's probably not Chuck's intent. And I'm totally one of those people he talks about, though sometimes I'm him too.
Culture Got You Down?
Get over it. You'll be happier—and a lot less annoying.
by Chuck Klosterman | Jan 01 '05
"If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend," E. M. Forster once wrote, "I hope I should have the guts to betray my country." This quote teaches us a lot, particularly that dead British novelists made for good drinking buddies and horrible spies. But Forster's sentiment is worth considering. There is no feeling worse than the feeling of betrayal; it is the most soul-pulverizing of human emotions. However, what's been on my mind as of late is kind of the inverse of Forster's quote, which is actually more of a question: What depresses you more—being betrayed by an individual, or being "betrayed" by your own culture? Because I hear people complaining about the latter situation constantly, and I can't understand why.
I recently had a conversation with someone about Sex and the City , a program I never actually watched. (Every time I tried, all I saw were four peculiar-looking women pretending to talk like gay guys.) But Sex and the City was one of those shows you didn't need to watch in order to follow. I had a general idea of what it was supposed to be about (sex, cities, whatnot), so I felt like I could have a reasonable dialogue about what it represented. My associate, however, loved this show; she was deconstructing the final episode of the series, in which Carrie Bradshaw ended up with longtime love interest Mr. Big. The reason the show ended this way, I suspect, is so sentimental people would get a happy ending. But to my associate, this conclusion was an atrocity; she literally used the word betrayed while discussing this plot twist. (She felt Bradshaw should have remained independent, which would have matched her vision of what Sex and the City was supposed to represent.)
Even though I had no real context for why she felt this way, I found her reaction fascinating. Why, I wondered, do people so often feel let down by popular culture? Why do serious film fans feel disgusted when another Tom Hanks movie earns $200 million? Why do record-store employees get angry when a band like Comets on Fire comes to town and only twenty-two people pay to see them? Why do highly literate people become depressed when they look at the New York Times best-seller list, and why do anti-intellectuals feel contempt for critics who suggest that The Da Vinci Code is consciously targeted at dumb people? There's a peculiar disconnect between how people exist in the world and how they think the world is supposed to exist; it's almost as if most Americans can't accept an important truth about being alive. And this is the truth to which I refer: Culture can't be wrong. That doesn't mean it's always "right," nor does it mean you always have to agree with it. But culture is never wrong. People can be wrong. Movements can be wrong. But culture—as a whole—cannot be wrong. Culture is just there .
Almost a decade ago, I was browsing in a Barnes & Noble when I came across a book called Route 666: On the Road to Nirvana . It was a music book about a band I liked, so I started paging through it immediately. And what I remember are three sentences on the fourth page that discussed how allegedly awesome it was that "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was on the radio, and how this was almost akin to America electing a new president. "It's not that everything will change at once," author Gina Arnold wrote. "It's that at least the people have voted for better principles. Nirvana's being on the radio means my own values are winning: I'm no longer in the opposition." I have never forgotten those three sentences, and there are two reasons why. The first is that this was just about the craziest, scariest idea I'd ever stumbled across. The second reason, however, is way worse. What I have slowly come to realize is that most people think this way all the time . They don't merely want to hold their values; they want their values to win . And I suspect this is why people so often feel "betrayed" by art and consumerism, and by the way the world works. I'm sure Gina Arnold felt completely betrayed when Limp Bizkit and Matchbox Twenty became superfamous five years after Kurt Cobain's death and she was forced to return to "the opposition" (whatever that entails—complaining about Clear Channel, I suppose). If you feel betrayed by culture, it's not because you're right and the universe is wrong; it's only because you're not like most other people. But this should make you happy, because—in all likelihood—you hate those other people anyway. You are being betrayed by a culture that has no relationship to who you are or how you live.
Do you want to be happy? I suspect that you do. Well, here's the first step to happiness: Don't get pissed off that people who aren't you happen to think Paris Hilton is interesting and deserves to be on TV every other day; the fame surrounding Paris Hilton is not a reflection on your life (unless you want it to be). Don't get pissed off because the Yeah Yeah Yeahs aren't on the radio enough; you can buy the goddamn record and play "Maps" all goddamn day (if that's what you want). Don't get pissed off because people didn't vote the way you voted. You knew that the country was polarized, and you knew that half of America is more upset by gay people getting married than it is about starting a war under false pretenses. You always knew that many Americans worry more about God than they worry about the economy, and you always knew those same Americans assume you're insane for feeling otherwise (just as you find them insane for supporting a theocracy). You knew this was a democracy when you agreed to participate, so you knew this was how things might work out. So don't get pissed off over the fact that the way you feel about culture isn't some kind of universal consensus. Because if you do, you will end up feeling betrayed. And it will be your own fault. You will feel bad, and you will deserve it.
Now, it's quite possible you disagree with me on this issue. And if you do, I know what your argument is: You're thinking, But I'm idealistic. This is what people who want to inflict their values on other people always think; they think that there is some kind of romantic, respectable aura that insulates the inflexible, and that their disappointment with culture proves that they're trapped by their own intellect and good taste. Somehow they think their sense of betrayal gives them integrity. It does not. If you really have integrity—if you truly live by your ideals, and those ideals dictate how you engage with the world at large—you will never feel betrayed by culture. You will simply enjoy culture more. You won't necessarily start watching syndicated episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond , but you will find it interesting that certain people do. You won't suddenly agree that Amelie was a more emotive movie than Friday Night Lights , but you won't feel alienated and offended if every film critic you read tells you that it is. You will care, but you won't care.
You're not wrong, but neither is the rest of the world. And you need to accept that those two things aren't really connected.
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thirdreel's piece on the buddha as Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul.
Culture Got You Down?
Get over it. You'll be happier—and a lot less annoying.
by Chuck Klosterman | Jan 01 '05
"If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend," E. M. Forster once wrote, "I hope I should have the guts to betray my country." This quote teaches us a lot, particularly that dead British novelists made for good drinking buddies and horrible spies. But Forster's sentiment is worth considering. There is no feeling worse than the feeling of betrayal; it is the most soul-pulverizing of human emotions. However, what's been on my mind as of late is kind of the inverse of Forster's quote, which is actually more of a question: What depresses you more—being betrayed by an individual, or being "betrayed" by your own culture? Because I hear people complaining about the latter situation constantly, and I can't understand why.
I recently had a conversation with someone about Sex and the City , a program I never actually watched. (Every time I tried, all I saw were four peculiar-looking women pretending to talk like gay guys.) But Sex and the City was one of those shows you didn't need to watch in order to follow. I had a general idea of what it was supposed to be about (sex, cities, whatnot), so I felt like I could have a reasonable dialogue about what it represented. My associate, however, loved this show; she was deconstructing the final episode of the series, in which Carrie Bradshaw ended up with longtime love interest Mr. Big. The reason the show ended this way, I suspect, is so sentimental people would get a happy ending. But to my associate, this conclusion was an atrocity; she literally used the word betrayed while discussing this plot twist. (She felt Bradshaw should have remained independent, which would have matched her vision of what Sex and the City was supposed to represent.)
Even though I had no real context for why she felt this way, I found her reaction fascinating. Why, I wondered, do people so often feel let down by popular culture? Why do serious film fans feel disgusted when another Tom Hanks movie earns $200 million? Why do record-store employees get angry when a band like Comets on Fire comes to town and only twenty-two people pay to see them? Why do highly literate people become depressed when they look at the New York Times best-seller list, and why do anti-intellectuals feel contempt for critics who suggest that The Da Vinci Code is consciously targeted at dumb people? There's a peculiar disconnect between how people exist in the world and how they think the world is supposed to exist; it's almost as if most Americans can't accept an important truth about being alive. And this is the truth to which I refer: Culture can't be wrong. That doesn't mean it's always "right," nor does it mean you always have to agree with it. But culture is never wrong. People can be wrong. Movements can be wrong. But culture—as a whole—cannot be wrong. Culture is just there .
Almost a decade ago, I was browsing in a Barnes & Noble when I came across a book called Route 666: On the Road to Nirvana . It was a music book about a band I liked, so I started paging through it immediately. And what I remember are three sentences on the fourth page that discussed how allegedly awesome it was that "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was on the radio, and how this was almost akin to America electing a new president. "It's not that everything will change at once," author Gina Arnold wrote. "It's that at least the people have voted for better principles. Nirvana's being on the radio means my own values are winning: I'm no longer in the opposition." I have never forgotten those three sentences, and there are two reasons why. The first is that this was just about the craziest, scariest idea I'd ever stumbled across. The second reason, however, is way worse. What I have slowly come to realize is that most people think this way all the time . They don't merely want to hold their values; they want their values to win . And I suspect this is why people so often feel "betrayed" by art and consumerism, and by the way the world works. I'm sure Gina Arnold felt completely betrayed when Limp Bizkit and Matchbox Twenty became superfamous five years after Kurt Cobain's death and she was forced to return to "the opposition" (whatever that entails—complaining about Clear Channel, I suppose). If you feel betrayed by culture, it's not because you're right and the universe is wrong; it's only because you're not like most other people. But this should make you happy, because—in all likelihood—you hate those other people anyway. You are being betrayed by a culture that has no relationship to who you are or how you live.
Do you want to be happy? I suspect that you do. Well, here's the first step to happiness: Don't get pissed off that people who aren't you happen to think Paris Hilton is interesting and deserves to be on TV every other day; the fame surrounding Paris Hilton is not a reflection on your life (unless you want it to be). Don't get pissed off because the Yeah Yeah Yeahs aren't on the radio enough; you can buy the goddamn record and play "Maps" all goddamn day (if that's what you want). Don't get pissed off because people didn't vote the way you voted. You knew that the country was polarized, and you knew that half of America is more upset by gay people getting married than it is about starting a war under false pretenses. You always knew that many Americans worry more about God than they worry about the economy, and you always knew those same Americans assume you're insane for feeling otherwise (just as you find them insane for supporting a theocracy). You knew this was a democracy when you agreed to participate, so you knew this was how things might work out. So don't get pissed off over the fact that the way you feel about culture isn't some kind of universal consensus. Because if you do, you will end up feeling betrayed. And it will be your own fault. You will feel bad, and you will deserve it.
Now, it's quite possible you disagree with me on this issue. And if you do, I know what your argument is: You're thinking, But I'm idealistic. This is what people who want to inflict their values on other people always think; they think that there is some kind of romantic, respectable aura that insulates the inflexible, and that their disappointment with culture proves that they're trapped by their own intellect and good taste. Somehow they think their sense of betrayal gives them integrity. It does not. If you really have integrity—if you truly live by your ideals, and those ideals dictate how you engage with the world at large—you will never feel betrayed by culture. You will simply enjoy culture more. You won't necessarily start watching syndicated episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond , but you will find it interesting that certain people do. You won't suddenly agree that Amelie was a more emotive movie than Friday Night Lights , but you won't feel alienated and offended if every film critic you read tells you that it is. You will care, but you won't care.
You're not wrong, but neither is the rest of the world. And you need to accept that those two things aren't really connected.
Also, check out
thirdreel's piece on the buddha as Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul.
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and so it is...
Date: 2005-03-07 06:18 pm (UTC)i have issue with the whole part about participating in a democracy. do you think people actually actively participate in it or even realize that they are lucky for living in this so-called democracy? maybe they actively choose to vote or not to vote, maybe, but i wonder how much of that choice is about participating in a democracy.
interesting. where would i find this guy's writing? in Esquire?
hope L.A. is sunny and fun.
Re: and so it is...
Date: 2005-03-07 06:28 pm (UTC)chuck used to write in Spin, i think he was a founder? but now he has a column in Esquire.
i heard chicago was sunny and warm yesterday, almost the exact weather as here! but no snow for us today. i'm hoping to go to the beach in the morning. too chilly for swimming but maybe at least dipping my feet in the water.
Re: and so it is...
Date: 2005-03-07 08:52 pm (UTC)Re: and so it is...
Date: 2005-03-07 09:39 pm (UTC)off topic, but i watched "The Last Seduction" on friday night on Showtime in the hotel room.
Hung like a horse
Date: 2005-03-07 09:40 pm (UTC)