The Quest for Authenticity in the Age of Plastic
As I looked into her eyes it became clear that something was missing from her life, there, somewhere inside her body, was an empty space that had been mined of all its authenticity. Years of advertising and mass produced plastic trinkets had taken its toll; she no longer understood what it meant to be genuine. Wal-Mart, McDonalds, Suburbia, and Reality Television have a way of emptying heads and refilling them with plastic, taking away our human zest for individualism, adventure and significance.
Did you see that Britney Spears shaved her head? The Osborne’s swear a lot. Did you see who got kicked off American Idol last night? Paris Hilton is in jail again. The Hummer H2 is a huge SUV. Scary Movie 3 is so funny. Do you like my new shoes? This band’s tour has been sponsored by Honda. Wal-Mart sells DVD players for under $20 dollars. I’m going to a 5-star resort in Cancun for week. Sorry, I drink Coke not Pepsi.
What has happened here? Have we so easily succumb to the trivial whispers of the plastic life? There is more than this; there is authenticity and real feelings and events. Authenticity is not something that can be entirely bought from superficial profit seekers. It must arise from within, from a community with real people and places to go. Yet, amongst the ruins of authentic living there is a rising resistance. Some of those among us are starting to understand what they are missing.
One of the clearest examples of this can be found on those who wear vintage clothing. It is a reaction, ever so slight. It is something that cannot be fabricated overseas in China. Even Starbucks, so highly contentious, has built its image based on the authentic cafes of Milan. People want to be creative; they want freedom from the cookie cutter suburbs and the grinding sameness of corporate franchises.
I found this interesting quote yesterday, I think it may be one of my favorites:
-Walt Whitman-
I think I could turn and live with animals, they’re so placid and self contain’d, I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the earth.
End Times
I cannot help but feel some global tragedy is looming over us. This is a popular belief these days; it seems that people have come to accept that something will happen sooner or later. There is a certain excitement about it, for we all know that heroes are born during tragedy, will I be a hero, or will I be a face in the mud?
-At the movies, Sartre-
“She took my hand and held it in hers without a word. I was flooded by bitter joy and I understand, without having to look at my watch that it was eleven o’clock. From that time on we began to feel the minutes passing. That time we were leaving each other for 3 months. At one moment they threw a completely blank image on the screen, the darkness lifted, and I saw that Anne was crying. Then, at midnight, she let go of my hand, after pressing it violently; I got up and left without a word. That was a good job.”
I remember words that my mother gave me when I was young. I had broken both my wrists and was in the hospital enduring grueling pain. She sat down beside me and calmly told me to always remember that, “This too, shall pass.” At the time I took comfort in those words, those which I have come to fear more than any other. Grab the hands of the ones you love, because we must never forget that this too shall pass.
The moment has answered to me, and it has passed. It is time to finish my coffee and go to work. I’ll put a smile on and empty my mind; where I work, there are no thoughts allowed.
Purpose and Absurdity
Absurd: wildly unreasonable, illogical, or inappropriate.
Purpose: The reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.
Living with uncertainty
I think one of the hardest characteristics of life is its crushing uncertainty. There are certainly people who think about it, but the crowd largely tries to ignore it, won’t confront it, won’t keep it in the front of their minds when walking home from work. But we all do in a way, because life so requires it. We know the past in fragments, strange vague memories; but the future, that we cannot know. We are stuck here, now, in the present, as we always will be. Sadly, the only thing we can be sure about is that we will experience the passing of time, aging (if were lucky), and we-will-all-die. There will be void as there was before we were born. Even worse, because we are so stuck in the present, when we unavoidably arrive at death it will be as though we hadn’t lived at all.
Sarah left for Hawaii today and sent me an e-mail explaining that if her airplane should crash into the Pacific Ocean, I should move on and continue; find a new girlfriend, keep working on my music, keep living. She has no fear of flying or death, she craves adventure, but we all live with crushing uncertainty, even those who love it so.
There is a man who stands at the corner of George Street in Edinburgh. Beside him is a majestic, eternal stone statue of some noble figure that changed the world. The man spends his working life in the shadow of this statue. His job is to sell some sort of magazine called ‘The Big Issue.’ As you walk by he whispers its name in a high pitch nasal tone. The same three words over and over and over and over again and again… “The Big Issue?” His loyal dog lies beside him, patiently waiting to make enough sales so that they can go home. They seem neither content nor troubled, they simply exist.
Quotes from the man…
I’ve still been reading over some of Sartre’s novel. I’ve found three small passages that are particularly nice;
“The last chord has died away. In the brief silence which follows I feel strongly that there it is, that something has happened.”
“The outline of the king of hearts appears between his curled fingers, then it is turned on its face and the game goes on. Mighty king, come from so far, prepared by so many combinations, by so many vanished gestures. He disappears in turn so that other combinations can be born, other gestures, attacks, counterattacks, turns of luck, a crowd of small adventures…”
“… I have had real adventures. I can recapture no detail but I perceive the rigorous succession of circumstance. I have crossed seas, left cities behind me, followed the course of rivers or plunged into forests, always making my way towards other cities. I have had women, I have fought with men; and never was I able to turn back, any more than a record can be reversed. And all that led me-where?
At this very instant, on this bench, in this translucent bubble all humming with music”
I think everyone should listen to the song, “New Age” (the long version) by the Velvet Underground…
