78uuu lumière des étoiles

Dusty:Starlight:Culture



ol skool
2005-03-20   3:51 p.m.

And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

Yeah, it's a David Byrne kind of day. Why, you ask? I'll explain later. Once I saw some horribly pretentious essay that attempted to explain the "meaning" behind Talking Heads' "Once in a Lifetime" (which the lyrics above belong to) by using the obscure Burke's Pentad. whooeeee, daddy. And believe me, I only know of Burke's Pentad because I was once rhet/comp-theory PhD bound. I can't imagine how much fun life would be right now if only I'd stuck with that program. Here's to moms, brothers and old college profs who tell you to follow your heart rather than the job market.

Heh. Heh heh. Meh heh heh heh heh! Job market! Comp theory! Well I suppose that's comparatively speaking - there's more of a market in that area of academe than in mine, but here I am.
Yes.

I most definitely would be up to my eyeballs in pedantic crap that I'd see no worth in month after month, and I most definitely wouldn't have time to attend parties like the fabu one we went to on Friday. It was my friend Michael's 27th, and he lives in a converted elementary school in Harlem. Awesome building, awesome people, awesome party. While I'm sad that many of my friends have relocated to Brooklyn, Queens, or Manhattan, at least it gets me out there and away from my NJ bar triangle.

Speaking of: When I was a wee lass, enamored of "modern rock", WDRE (hollah if you remember that one), my brother's Joy Division/Peter Godwin record collection and anything Siouxsie I could get my hands on, older persons in my life would sometimes sneak me into the Pipeline's 99 cent dance parties. Yes indeedy, stripey tights, chunky combat boots, way too much make-up and my brother shmoozing the bouncer to let me into the club are some of my strongest memories of those days; I was so young that the place itself and the people in it remain a blur. Nevertheless, I will be attending a pipeline reunion party next week. This party is apparently a bit of a secret - I have been told not to "bring friends" who weren't "pipeline regulars". How I got included in this group, I don't know - and who I'll know there, other than friends I've made over the years who used to practically live at the bar, I don't know. It is amusing, though, my being invited - considering how much gangly little teen-age me wanted so badly to hang with the cool older people then. I guarantee I'll be the youngest person there by at least five years, but welcome to the story of my life.

same as it ever was....same as it ever was....

Another line from that same song; see what I mean about it being that kind of day? I spent today drinking in an Irish pub - well, not drinking, exactly, since I had some good wine last night with some great old friends and got a bit blasted. So today, I was doing more talking than drinking; we went with the intention of watching a late St. Patrick's Day parade, but since the weather was crappy and the pub was warm, we all decided to talk and eat instead of freeze our little buns off outside in the rain. Instead, I had a nice sandwich and a long conversation with Nicole and Tara about "this stage of life". The same kind of phrase came up in conversation with my friends Kevin and Shannon last night, so this stuff really must be on my mind.

We're too old, in so many ways, to put up with garbage from people. Though this might sound callous and a bit mean-spirited, I have no time for the indecisiveness, confusion, and insecurity that comes along with immaturity or lack of experience. Age has nothing to do with this; I know some late-fortysomethings who, because they've been afraid of the world their whole lives, are very difficult to be around. At the same time, we're a bit young to feel "secure", and yet we are - we just might have a hard time reconciling with that psychologically; we might still feel (or still want to feel) the freedom of youth. So you see, "This is not my beautiful house!". And so on, etc.

I like to think that song, "Once in a Lifetime" is about our culture's predilection for hyper-masculinity, which of course includes this myth that men should have absolute control and power over everything, all the time, everywhere. This is logically impossible, but is nonetheless encouraged by so many parts of our society. The result is some confusion for men, I think - they understandably at times feel vulnerable, emotional, "out of control", things that are human to feel. Men may want to share or completely relinquish power, but how can they do so in a culture that tells them this is unnatural? Since they are "men" this is trained out of them, and a sort of stoicism is encouraged instead. ("Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down") Men then might operate on a sort of autopilot, divorcing themselves from those human qualities (unless of course they include anger and aggression, the acceptable male displays of emotion) that are otherwise pretty darn pervasive. What happens when those emotions surface could be a confusion and disconnect: "this is not my beautiful wife!".

But then again, David Byrne admits that he was intentionally obscure and non-sensical as a lyricist - do you suppose all the drugs had something to do with that? So there, my version of hooey pretension. I suppose it just shows that I was cut out for Gender Theory after all. I like it better then that Pentad crap. Stupid academics. Me go watchy TV now.

xox