Category Archives: Pondering

Subcultures in the Mist

As I’ve mentioned before in posts that I don’t feel like digging up, I’ve been getting involved in a new hobby. I’ll spare you the details about what this hobby entails, as I have a whole other blog for that, but I’ve thrown myself completely into the subculture that surrounds this hobby and it’s fascinating.

In every culture, there are heroes and tropes and easily identifiable figures. There are law makers and governments: figures that impose order. There are merchants and moneymakers. There are storytellers and stories to tell.

And as you go down the ladder, going into sub-cultures and sub-subcultures, you start to realize that this is true all the way down, that there are, in fact, turtles all the way down. I find it fascinating that, even in a rapidly expanding global subculture, there are still all these little hidden pockets that mirror the society at large and you can go your whole life and not know they’re there.

At times, since I’m still not fully embedded in this subculture, I feel like an observer, an intruder with a tape recorder, like Alan Lomax. There are leaders and tales of ancient history and eldars and songs and I’m there to witness it all. It’s very strange, like I’m straddling a line.

But now I think I’m making way too much of it and it’s time to move on.

-D-

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Culture Defined by Pop

Alan Lomax was a folklorist who spent the majority of his life preserving small, local folklore traditions. He believed that globalization was encroaching on the traditions of countless subcultures and slowly but surely pushing them toward extinction. He was also, potentially, a manipulative, manifest destiny toting jack-ass, but that’s not important here.

The main crux of his beliefs were that the important local traditions and stories and music of Americana would be subsumed by the mass media and rendered meaningless. Instead of the local storyteller, we would listen to radio programmes. Instead of being taught by the local wise-man, we’d be taught by a Federal mandated school curriculum.

Cultural individuality would be gone and we would be left with one, big, happy social identity.

He was, for the most part, correct. Television and the Internet have become one of the primary means that we identify with one another. If I mention Grumpy Cat to an individual who lives on the opposite end of the county, he will know what I am talking about, even if we were born and raised in completely different regions and sub-cultures.

If I talk about Game of Thrones with someone, we will connect. If I mention Downton Abbey, we will bond. Culture is rapidly becoming defined by popular culture; state-wide, country-wide, world-wide. It is steadily and irrevocably moving toward this one, great global culture.

I don’t think this is a scary thing or an arguable thing. It’s just a thing; an inevitable consequence of a communication network that binds together every corner of the globe instantaneously.

What is interesting is the fact that there are still sub-cultures and sub-sub-cultures that are forming and blossoming within this new global identity. Even with the ability to unify everybody under one pop culture umbrella, there are still individuals who huddle under their interests and beliefs, separate and isolated from the main culture.

The difference between then and now is that these people have self-determined their own sub-culture. While in the olden days, Appalachian musics and stories were determined by geographic isolation and blues music and the Harlem Renaissance was determined by socio-economic political subjugation, the various sub-pop-culture interests and traditions that are starting to flower are solely determined by the interests and desires of the individual wishing to define themselves.

And that is not nearly as bad as Mr. Lomax feared.

-D-

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One Dry, Vodka Martini

 

We expect, in our heroes, the ability to last. They last from generation to generation, fighting the good fight, no matter if that good fight completely changes from now to then. As the times progress, so must our heroes. Their methods grow more modern. Their attitudes fit our own. Their morals reflect what we expect in a good person.

James Bond has been around, in one form or another, since the early 1950′s. The world is an extremely different place since he first stepped onto the stage. The Soviets are no longer around. Communism is not perceived as a threat. And we worry less about nukes and more about religious zealots with some simple explosive and the will to use it.

He has, however, managed to stay relevant for over six decades. His creator has died. The actors who played him at first are beyond the age where they could play him now. Six men have played him (not including the movies made by other studios), numerous authors have written him and who he is as a person has changed in sometimes subtle and sometimes drastic ways.

But, at heart, he remains the same. He is a lover, who will not let any harm come to his woman, but he will also not stay with them very long. He is a killer, but only kills when it is necessary to survive or necessary for the greater good, not for pleasure or sport. He is tough, intelligent and charismatic.

He has money, but not enough too much money. He likes nice things and appreciates good drinks and fine foods. He has a wealth of knowledge at his fingertips and is always interested and invested in learning more. He is curious, brave and determined to see matters through.

If one wanted to see a perfect, masculine ideal, a facet of the ideal, you would do no better than to see the evolution of James Bond. Or, perhaps, you would do no better than to see how James Bond has influenced a perfect masculine ideal.

The movies continually and routinely do well at the box office, even at their low points, it was never enough to kill the series. They keep making the movies and writing the novels, which means he appeals to the popular culture, which means he means something to the popular culture. He is, for a large number of people, an ideal.

This is how our culture defines a hero. He is British in a lot of ways, but also American (independent, takes law into own hands, almost a vigilante, in spite of his government agent status, see the number of times he is at odds with law enforcement and his own agency to see the vigilante aspects of his character).

A society’s heroes (and their villains) define them.

What does James Bond say about us?

What does his appeal say about us?

He has lasted 60 years as a relevant, pop culture icon, while remaining much the same in a majority of ways (assassin, drinker, womanizer, violent, sensitive, charmer, vicious), what does that say about our culture that promotes such a creature as our hero?

If you cast the light in a different way, you could make him a monster; a sociopath who destroys lives, a government robot so heartless that he will have sex and murder within the same hour. He is so controlling that his drink must be the same and made the same way every time.

You look to a culture’s heroes and you learn so much about them.

What does James Bond say about us?

-D-

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The American Hero

If you want to learn about a society, you look at the people they revere as heroes; the men and women that they hold up on a pedestal.

For example, if you look at the old Greek myths, their heroes were bloody warriors with long lineages that stretched back and far. They were men of honor who bore their burdens with savage ferocity.

With Americans, you have to look to our comic books.

As silly as this might seem to someone who hasn’t been paying attention to the major box office draws of the last decade, comic books reflect who we, as a culture and a people, worship as heroes.

First, there is The Individual. It is always someone who has, by Fate or by choice, who has gone alone. They have shunned (Bruce Wayne) society or been shunned (Peter Parker). They must define themselves by themselves. They cannot allow society to dictate who they are. Even when it’s a team of heroes working together, they’re on the fringes of society (see: X-Men).

Second, The Vigilante; we like the hero who is apart from the Law. This builds off the earlier point: we like someone who doesn’t allow legal red tape to stand in their way. We want someone to stand up and strike a blow against what’s wrong in the world without having to wait for cops and judges and juries. We want speedy justice.

Almost never do we see the legal ramifications of a hero’s actions.

Thirdly, he cannot kill. At least, not willfully. There must be compassion. There must be mercy. The hero must be better than the rest of us. He will not let bloodlust or rage govern his actions. The hero stands apart from us in every, emotional, way. They must make the decisions we would not be capable of making, which is why we trust them in the role of the Vigilante.

Our heroes, the ones we revere in culture on television and movies and pulp fiction, are men and women emotionally unavailable, socially on the edge and disregard the law as beneath them.

In short, Americans revere sociopaths in flashy garb and gaudy dress.

-D-

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The Cost of Wonder

In the stories I read and the stories I write, the world is a place steeped in magic and there are things beyond the ken of the average human being. The world is beyond the explanation of science and reason and what is seen is only the skin of the universe and beneath that is the space between worlds.

I populate that space with monsters and I’m not the only one. Horror writers, fantasy writers, the writers who wrote our first stories filled that abyss with creatures that would drive a body insane. It would break someone’s mind to see the things that the outer reaches of reality would contain.

Let’s assume that was true. Let’s assume that the world we live in and breathe in and take in is deeper than comprehension. Let’s assume that there are wonders that you cannot imagine. It’s beyond your physiology to imagine. There are wonders….

Assume the potential cost is your sanity. Assume that searching for these dark and wonderful and awful places could cost you your peace of mind and your ability for a good night’s sleep. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s likely. You will see a non-Euclidean geometry that will bend your mind’s rational thought unto the breaking point.

Imagine it anyway. Try to imagine it. Fill your mind’s eye with sights unseen and unheard and unthought.

Now, the question is, would you pay the cost? Would you risk it all to know that the world is less than solid? Would you risk everything for a glimpse of wonder?

-D-

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Gone Away Past

The past is, as far as we know, a thing lost to us.

We’ve captured it in our memories; wrapped it in a gauzey, filtered tangle of emotion and condemned it to perpetual nostalgia. What once was better than it ever will be.

You take a good long look at the way things were and you can find the principles, the matter-of-fact rightness of the world. Everything was as it should be. It’s a comfortable familiarity that cannot brook even the slightest bit of deviation. When we look back, it’s a known. An absolute. An unchanging. It is constant and nothing will ever affect it.

Now take the Future. Or, let us not be so bold, and merely approach the Present. Ahead of us is unknown. There is change. By its very nature, there is change. You can’t go forward without something changing. You get older. The jobs change. The president changes. The politics change. The economy changes. Change defines the future, because without it, we’d just be in the past.

(Obviously)

The future is the thing was all hate. We cannot abide change. We cannot abide the unknown. So we wrap the gauzy muddled up wrap of nostalgia around ourselves to protect ourselves from that unknowing that lurks perpetually and forever ahead of us.

It is always coming. It will never stop arriving. Your life will never, ever be the same. Any attempt to hide from it is a form of cowardice.

All you can do is stand up and take it.

To deny it is ignorance. To condemn it is foolish.

You cannot stop it, but you can affect it.

The past is forever lost to us, but the future is always there waiting for us.

Dylan Charles

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The Lost

When learning about baseball’s history, it is impossible to ignore the forty years that African Americans were not allowed to play, regardless of ability. Any attempt by a black american to play ball was rejected by Major League Baseball. They were shut out and forced to form their own leagues.

There debates, even now, about the possibilities. What if they had been allowed to play? How would things have been different? How would they have measured up against Major League Players?

In my mind, that prompts other, far more depressing questions than who would have beat who in an All Star line-up. From the 1600′s to the late 1800′s, countless men and women were unable to pursue anything they wanted. How many artists were lost? How many doctors? How many lawyers? How many writers and sculptors and athletes and orators and businessmen and senators? What did this country lose? What did those people lose? Because they were unable to choose their own fates, to strike out on their own, to determine who they were in a very fundamental way, society lost something dear.

And society continued to throw it away with Jim Crow and segregation and through the intimidation of the Klan and other groups. The poverty and crime that bore down the Black community, kept it from achieving the great things it would have achieved. For every George Washington Carver and Lewis Latimer and Sojourner Truth and Frederick Douglas and Langston Hughes and Miles Davis, how many others never got the chance to be who they should have been?

It is only recently in our history that Black Americans have the semblance of the same freedoms as the majority of Americans, but for the millions before, they lacked that option.

What they were, what they could have been, whatever they truly wanted, was and is forever lost, and we are forever poorer for it.

Dylan Charles

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Angry and Lovin’ It

I’ve been noticing more and more lately that I’m getting more and more angry and aggressive and it’s the city that’s doing it.

It’s not Boston in particular, it’s just…living in a big city where people can be rude and thoughtless and exceedingly annoying. I don’t think cities especially attract awful people; the same percentage of awful people live in the city as they do in the country (20%). But 20% of 600,000 people is a metric shitton of people no matter how you look at it and you’re going to be bumping into those people on a regular basis, especially if you work in retail and especially if you take public transportation to get to your retail job.

As a result, I’ve been more surly with people and more liable to get ornery at real and imagined offenses. Some of this change in behavior is necessary. I’ve never been a very forward person and never been very liable to stand up for myself. I was always more likely to take the quiet, passive way out of a conflict. Now, I’m finding myself looking forward to a combative argument. I got to kick someone out of the store the other day and I was thrilled. I hope he comes back so I can do it again.

This is where it starts becoming more of a problematic thing and where I need to start reining myself in the tiniest bit. Still, I’m pleased that I can actually argue with someone as opposed to just grinning and bearing it.

Also, I’ll fight you.

Dylan Charles

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Shakespeare on Common

Emily and I went to see Shakespeare on the Commons last week. Every year, folks can see the Commonwealth Shakespeare Company perform on the Commons free of charge. This year, they performed one of Shakespeare’s comedies, “All’s Well That Ends Well”. I didn’t know the first thing about it before we went, but, after a quick Google search, it turns out no-one else is either.

There were the usual shenanigans; people in disguise, puns and innuendo in huge dollops. The performers were great and it was a show I would have happily paid for. After a while, I realized I was laughing at jokes that were hundreds of years old and that there’s something incredible about that.

Getting people to laugh is one of the more difficult things a writer can do. Trying to hit those notes for a broad audience is tricky and it’s always hard to translate humor into different mediums. And humor doesn’t even travel across decades that well. Styles change, subject matter changes, what’s appropriate changes; dozens of different things that can affect how a joke lands.

And yet, here’s a guy who wrote jokes four hundred years ago and people can still get them and still laugh at them. To me, that’s far more impressive than his dramas and tragedies still working on a visceral level. It’s easy to make people cry; a murder, a lost love, a couple of deaths sprinkled into the ending. But it takes a hell of a lot more to get them to laugh and to keep them laughing for a couple of centuries.

Dylan Charles

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Time Is Not On My Side

I did a test once to see how I experienced time. It was simple. I started the timer and then stopped it when I thought a minute had passed. I wasn’t allowed to count the seconds, I just stopped the timer when it felt like the right time.

When I took the test, I slammed the button after only thirty seconds.

This is how its always been for me. Time crawls. Whether I’m watching a movie or at work, I’m incredibly aware of each minute ticking slowly by. It’s made me notoriously bad at telling how long an event takes. I’ve coined the term “Dylan minutes” to let Emily know that I have no idea how much real time has passed, only that it felt like ten minutes to me.

Naturally, I’ve decided that this must mean that I have some sort of Matrixesque superpower. After all, time is moving at half -speed for me compared to the rest of you. That means I should be able to get twice as many things done in the same amount of time, making me twice as productive as a normal person.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Instead, I have the miraculous ability to dawdle more than the average human being. So if ever you have puttering that needs being done, I’m your guy.

Also, did you know that I have a book? Tell your friends. Post it on your blog. Post it to Facebook. Spread the word!

Dylan Charles

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