character idea number 8

Vain Dad. He dresses trendily. Tailored fits. Wears noticeably thick-rimmed glasses. Head shaved to the part. Tries hip activities with his average, comfortable son, like riding "public" electric scooters and shouting out because it's so fun.

"Young Folks" by Peter Bjorn & John

If i told you things I did before,
told you how i used to be,
would you go along with someone like me?
If you knew my story word for word,
had all of my history,
would you go along with someone like me?


I did before and had my share;
it didn't lead nowhere.
I would go along with someone like you.
It doesn't matter what you did,
who you were hanging with.
We could stick around and see this night through.


And we don't care about the young folks
talkin' 'bout the young style
And we don't care about the old folks,
talkin' 'bout the old style, too.
And we don't care about their own faults;
talkin' 'bout our own style.
All we care 'bout is talking--
talking only me and you.


Usually, when things have gone this far,
people tend to disappear.

No one will surprise me unless you do.


I can tell there's something goin' on,
hours seems to disappear.

Everyone is leaving; I'm still with you.

It doesn't matter what we do,
where we are going, too.
We can stick around and see this night through.

And we don't care about the young folks,
talkin' 'bout the young style.
And we don't care about the old folks,
talkin' 'bout the old style, too.
And we don't care about their own faults;
talkin' 'bout our own style.
All we care 'bout is talking,
talking only me and you.


And we don't care about the young folks,
talkin' 'bout the young style.
And we don't care about the old folks,
talkin' 'bout the old style, too.
And we don't care about their own faults;
talkin' 'bout our own style.
All we care 'bout is talking,
talking only me and you--
talking only me and you.

Talking only me and you.
Talking only me and you.

Billy Corgan at SXSW 2012

My sense is Billy Corgan can't say word without immediately being crapped on. This comment from SXSW, for example: "I was part of a generation that changed the world - and it was taken over by poseurs."

Corgan was discussing the Internet's effect on musical fame and artistry, and the obstacles that keep new artists from emerging. As the author of this Billboard post put it: "If there was an overarching theme, though, it's that both musicians and technology are feeding the mentality that fame is what should be hoped for, leaving artistry in its wake."

Corgan's comment is mostly laughable because it's such a hyperbolic generalization. But one angle of it may be something: Corgan's generation created Alternative music. Although that label now is as meaningless as Indie is, Alternative* music originally meant that outcasts, i.e., Freaks and Geeks, now had their own community in which acceptance was a foregone conclusion. You like Jane's Addition? You're in. You like Dinosaur Jr.? You're in. The only ground rule: Don't judge based on appearances.

Now, jump ahead to the new generation: To make it today, bands are forced and encouraged to act out, to create online selves so as to be liked; to one-up the next guy to get passer-by traffic--the ultimate in disinterested attention paid on unequal terms--something not altogether unlike the stripper-customer relationship.

The Alternative scene of Corgan's day obviously wasn't the first to welcome outcasts and losers (so to speak), but it was the first to, arguably, make them the mainstream. If nothing else, I think Corgan said something worth considering rather than just venting the bitterness of a has-been or the histrionics of a megalomaniac.

*I mean Alternative music to the extent that such a thing is reducible.

Notes:

• You could also say the when an out-group becomes the in-group, they soon adopt and enforce social rules and prejudices like the previous in-group.

• Internet-wise, as part of Generation X, Corgan's generation could maybe claim to have pioneered the common usage of the public Internet and with having populated it with its earliest content, giving it shape and color, meaning and appeal, from early social networking to wiki-style content development. But, whatever the accomplishments of the next generations, they likely can't be called poseurs.

Kids today

In The New York Times article "A Generation’s Vanity, Heard Through Lyrics", the author says that today's lyrics are a different animal from those of the past, but he stops just short of explicitly agreeing with Dr. Dewall's conclusion that “Late adolescents and college students love themselves more today than ever before". But he indicates his willingness to accept this claim by giving final say to a researcher who supports it.

At best, this study might yield a very loose hypothesis. But adopting this hypothesis requires a tremendous leap because the assumptions behind it are many. Among them are that (1) the Billboard charts accurately reflect listener demographics and (2) lyrics to popular songs reflect listeners' state of mind, thoughts, and attitudes. These two assumptions, which are chief among the many, are themselves deeply flawed.

So why give precious column space to this?

What privileged generation hasn't put subsequent generations under the spotlight and declared them immoral, worthless, and devoid of any real substance? Hey, generation who reads the NYT, it's your turn.

The article: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/26/science/26tier.html

Pronouns and Self-deprivation

Finished Joshua Ferris' Then We Came to the End, the author's first published and popular work. While reading, I focused on how Ferris' speaker uses the pronoun "we" to tell the story. The story is about what happens during a few weeks of downsizing at a Chicago ad agency, and its faceless voice is both a member and anonymous witness to this shrinking peer group of professionals.

I also noticed the speaker frequently recognizes as trivial the obsessions and concerns of this group--what he relates as the petty disputes and insignificant interests of an over-privileged sect. Ferris' storyteller is, naturally, one of these self-professed overpaid, over-insured professionals.

The element of self-deprecation made the characters somewhat more endearing. But, as the reader, it also left me unsure of where exactly I fit in: Have I been petty and undeserving, too? At the novel's conclusion, the reader is addressed as a member of the pseudo-saga, one of the group, the in-crowd.

The use of "we" and element of self-deprecation at first don't feel like pivotal elements to the storytelling. But they are for two reasons.

First, the self-deprecation starts off sounding a tad insincere, maybe, but eventually it feels obligatory, as if by rote. So I'm left with the feeling that this group, who are representatives of a generation, have been judged, and that the verdict on these people is that their predilections are trivial, a primary element of their zeitgeist, and that this is a real failing, comparatively speaking. So, it is a cultural truth that these people are undeserving overachievers. This truth is, to my mind, a real idea we have about the succession of generations in this country.

Second, this use of "we" and constant self-deprecation also allows the reader to excuse himself as he becomes engrossed by the story's "trivial" action. Perhaps it even affords him the tools to be engrossed. Points for that.