Can You Imagine Fifty People a Day...Friends, They May Think It's a Movement

To build upon some of my previous posts concerning what I feel is our society's lacklustre public dialogue (the ease with which we can dismiss a candidate for the smallest of bad PR, a general gleeful indignation with which we confront those that offend (clearly, this has a special significance with the recent Imus affair)). As I have been living in South Africa for the past two months, with only 3-4 channels to scan through on my tv (one of which plays cricket at all hours, an wholly unwatchable sport), my televised intake has grown increasingly focused and honed -- to the point that I basically watch clips from Comedy Central, MSNBC, and Real Time with Bill Maher, and dip the occasional finger into the Fox News gruel (Please, Sir, can I NOT have some more). This very limited and admittedly biased exposure to television, however, has afforded me the perspective that I needed to find some of these more deleterious trends in our national discourse.

On a fairly recent episode of the Daily Show, Jon Stewart interviewed Ambassador to the UN, John Bolton -- an extremely controversial figure and one of Bush's more antagonistic appointees. Bolton proposes his philosophy regarding presidential appointees, submitting that it is the duty of the president and his job to represent those (presumably solely those) who voted for him and appoint people who share his overall ideologies. Stewart returned with the example of Lincoln in reference to Lincoln's cabinet that was made up of a broad spectrum of political loyalists, many of whom disagreed with their President. So, with Stewart's more than reasonable historic example not even fully out of his mouth, Bolton quickly dismisses him, saying something to the effect of "I don't think you're right on the history there." The trend that this example...ahh, exemplifies is the envocation of historical citations, used either to dismiss the person you are debating or to silence the conversation. (Luckily, Jon has his own show and answered back the next night.)

In our current age, for those arguing on the rationally wanting side of a debate, a victory can achieved if you have managed to undermine your opponent's ability to prove their point, however honest and rational it may be (in fact, the more rational thier point the bigger your victory for not letting them make it). Do you, reader, remember the game "500"? One kid is the Thrower and shouts out a number (100, 200, 300, you get the idea) as he throws a ball into a small crowd of would-be catchers. If you were amongst this group and the ball is clearly out of your reach, your best bet is to somehow sabotage anyone elses chance of catching it. That's basically what this argumentative tactic is -- to use esoteric knowledge of history to silence you opponent or to dismiss someone else's knowledge out of hand is like pantsing the guy next to you so he won't catch the ball. A stretch? I think not.

So, here is my proposal. When someone tries to throw some irrelevant, yet oddly impressive factoid from American History your way, just smirk back and say, "Well, Tippecanoe and Fuck You, too!" And be sure to emphasis the last bit with all the gravitas of Lt. Col. Frank Slade. My theory, and I have not yet put it in practice, is that this will nullify any ground they have gained in the debate with their useless historical reference. I mean, what could they say back to that?You'll have beaten them at their own game. It's actually quite breathtaking. The rebuttle both alludes to an esoteric piece of American history (William Henry Harrison's 1840 campaign slogan) and also piques with a sort of ironic cruedity.

So, If you find yourself (in a dark alley and would like to press ahead, please turn to pg. 138) in a heated debate with Christopher Hitchens on Real Time with Bill Maher, or have inadvertently landed on a bar stool next to John Bolton and over a few too many rounds of shots enter into a political argument, don't let them garble the debate by trying to stun you with unecessary trivia. Just remember what we said, and they won't know what hit 'em.

Note: There is a definite distinction between admissible and warranted historic references for use in political discourse, this post only refers to those that are unecessary and used to spite or dismiss rather than enliven and edify.

Wikipedialyte

In response to Cape Town's lament about growing older:

I need to preface my comments on the feeling of getting old too quickly by pointing out that they are tainted by my position as a 24 year old teacher of 18 year old students. I've become old before my time, and have all kinds of father/big brother issues. Many guys my age hear about two eighteen year old girls twirling around in short skirts and respond with an enthusiastic grin. My first thought is "Jesus, ladies, this is a family show. Sit back down." Suffice to say that "barely legal" pornography is wasted on me.

Nothing makes you feel older than referencing pop culture to a clueless audience, and my senior government class is a daily exercise in aging. These are people who don't watch VH1's "I love the 80s," not because they are above commercial nostalgia, but because they don't know what a Thundercat is.

But I have to disagree with the idea that we are forcibly polarized, that "we're either left lamenting progress or shouting down any who stand in its way. " I consider myself squarely in the middle of these collective issues. I certainly do feel that music is worse, crime has increased, etc. but I fight constantly with people who suggest that "kids these days" are worse as a whole. I spend all day with these kids, and they're no worse than the people I went to school with ten years ago. I don't watch American Idol, but I watch 24 religiously. I have informed opinions regarding the possible entry of Gore into the presidential election, but I'm also kind of curious about how Justin Timberlake feels now that Cameron Diaz is banging Djimon Hounsou.

It's not the internet that's forced this public discourse on us, as you suggest (in your best old man voice.) It's us! It's the eye rolls we give each other when someone suggests that they like Ludacris. It's the look from you other merry Dissentators when I mention JT and Cameron Diaz. It's the more ridiculous look you give when you realize I called him JT.

We're not getting old, we're just as snobby as we were in college. I get the same "what a moron" thought in my head when someone references the OC (which, in case you geezers didn't know, went off the air this week) as I used to when someone admitted they listened to the Backstreet Boys.

On the subject of wikipedia as a research tool, I have to say fuck the man. If you want to use wikipedia, go right ahead. It might be wrong. In high school, you're learning more about how to write with evidence and support your arguments with sources. It's not as important that the essay be factually correct as it is that the essay shows understanding of how to form an argument. In college, if the professors don't know enough to find the mistakes in your essays that you transcribed from wikipedia, that's their fault and your grade won't reflect it. If you publish something and it turns out that you believed a user edited encyclopedia and got burned, that's you're own fault. I'll leave you with a latin phrase: caveat emptor. That being said, if you don't know the definition look it up on wikipedia. I'll bet it's correct.

What's a Matter with Kids Today?

I think it began in high school, maybe in summer time when I first noticed it -- lazing the day away on my friend's couch, flipping channels, sneaking beers, enjoying our youth. The feeling swept over me, both forceful and vague, and it had nothing to do with the heat, and it had nothing to do with underage drinking. I was getting old. Only after these afternoons formed my memory of those summers, could I codify and isolate the sentiment, and I realized it was because of TRL, a show on Mtv for idiots, hosted by a then plumper and equally insipid Carson Daily. I didn't like the show or the music or any of it and I realized that I would no longer be the first to know the most recent Top 40 hit or be able to ride whatever cultural wave would come our way. There I was, at 16, infirm beyond my years, and this aging process has continued precipitously since.

In my last post, I discussed my affinity for Harold Bloom's views on Harry Potter, and by doing so exposed the crotchety traditionalist that I feel myself becoming. I need to know: is this what has happened to 24 year olds in each generation? Do others my age feel as I do about their detachment from their own popular culture? Was it the same when those raised on Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin watch their piers and those only years younger flock to "talkies"; when people switched from radio broadcasts to black and white television, and similarly until now, watching their friends and younger siblings shift with unsettling ease -- from black and white to color, from Elvis to Bob Dylan, from Aerosmith to shitty, older Aerosmith?

Reading about the recent debate on the Middlebury College campus, where the History Department has formally banned the use of Wikipedia for citation purposes, I found myself siding with The Man, and I have spent hours of enjoyment on Wikipedia. What the hell is happening here? Am I alone on this one? Please, fellow dissentators, mount up, let me hear you.

Perhaps these are just passing moments, only forming in my mind into a pathology by their repetition. I mean, I'm blogging aren't I? That's right, I am. Dammit, I'm all about the zeitgeist, baby. Who cares if I care more about the 2008 Presidential elections than Britney's new do, or that I have to feign interest and knowledge when discussing American Idol, or that I try to keep up my fiber intake (just joking with that one). The atmosphere on the internet and in the public discourse has forced us into taking this type of polarized stance -- we're either left lamenting progress or shouting down any who stand in its way. It's okay to form opinions without having to take sides. You can be ambivalent without being apathetic. All I'm asking is that you please turn the music down.