The Shape of Punk to Come

When I was a freshman in high school I probably wore black every other day and wore my hair in my eyes (which were covered in black eyeliner and heavy mascara). I was filled with angst against my parents, my religion, my school, even my friends at times, and bands like the Swedish group Refused used the political rhetoric I espoused.

Looking back at pictures of myself, I must admit that I am a bit embarrassed about my fashion sense in those early days of high school. I was also able to travel to Sweden this summer and tried to listen to Refused as I rode the train to Stockholm, but the scenery did not match the music. Sweden is one of the most beautiful countries I have ever seen and such a grungy, discontent sound described my hometown more than it did the Swedish countryside. I listened to Sigur Ros instead.

However, during high school I believed my fashion sense to be a form of protest. It thrilled me to wonder what the older people at church thought when they saw me clad in only black (after all, they had watched me grow up). I'm sure not many even gave me an extra thought, but it satisfied me nevertheless.

Punk and its many offshoots serve as a method of contentment for the wearer; they do not necessarily serve as expression to others. This may have been different in the early days of punk, when it was fresh and the mainstream hadn't realized the market potential it had. But today, when stores like Hot Topic specialize in non-leather dominatrix outfits, punk, in general, has become yet another example of groupthink and adherence to social norms. Some punks may believe in the rhetoric they spout, but most are probably just drawn into it because of its association with social deviance, or "coolness."

This is really a difficult issue to tackle without taking both sides. Punk can be what you want it to be. Punk can be everything or nothing. Punk, really, just is.

I'll end this with some lyrics from the song "Refused Are Fucking Dead" that I think capture the punk spirit.
A naive, young secret for the new romantics
We express ourselves in loud and fashionable ways

PETA/My life story

I am a vegetarian.  I have not eaten meat (knowingly) for about four years.  I prefer soy milk to cow's milk and eat eggs from free-roaming hens when I have the opportunity.  I am quite the cheese-addict though, but I've rounded that off in my conscience with my newfound appreciation for soy pudding.

 

PETA didn't convince me to stop slaughtering animals with my dollars.  I convinced myself.  I had known for a long time that eating meat hurts not only animals but also the environment and my health, and I had also known of the corruption of the meat industry.  I had heard of PETA and maybe seen a few of their videos, but it was me who made the decision.  One summer day, I figured I was tired of contributing to such negativity and ended my association with such an archaic and unnecessary practice.

 

Being a vegetarian, I can't understand how people don't buy PETA's arguments.  To me, logic dictates that kindness to animals is kindness to yourself and harm to animals is harm to yourself.  There is little difference between a human and an animal, so how can people justify their acts?  It irks me when I ask people how they can eat meat and they say "because it tastes good."  Antifreeze tastes good to dogs, but that doesn't mean they should eat it (that will be my version of a stretched PETA argument for this blog; and by the way, vegetarians live longer than meat-eaters).

 

However, there are arguments that PETA makes that I do not completely agree with.  One of the reasons why I'm not personally associated with the group is that they typically endorse a vegan lifestyle; vegetarians are second-rate to them.  In this case, I share PETA's mainstream views but accept only modified versions of the specific arguments.  I believe that in order to gain more adherents, PETA should downplay its vegan aspect so it won't seem so extremist.

 

Overall, PETA is just one of those groups that I love but won't run around naked with.

Critical Mass

I thought the concept of Critical Mass was genius. It gathered a group of incredibly outgoing and uncanny people together and let them release their creativity in a positive manner. I actually don't see their actions as a formal protest. It was actually more like a flash mob, or a group gathered online (like through Facebook) to do weird things (like have coughing fits on the West Mall). In a way, flash mobs and Critical Mass are informal protests, going more against the status quo than against a specific aspect of that status quo.

I think the spirit of Critical Mass mattered more than the rides. It was that essence of freedom and unconventionality that can only thrive in a free society that kept it together, not the shared affinity for bicycles. Perhaps such is the same with conventional protests - it's not the issue at hand that matters but the mindset of the protestors.

Whenever this feeling of freedom generates a following, those in power will feel threatened. They may not fear for their literal position - mayor, senator, president - or for their lives; what they fear is change. Even in such a liberal city as San Francisco this fear will be present, so even in our city of Austin it will emerge (as seen in the video). As long as members of the group do not allow the brutality of bureaucracy affect them, their movement will continue in strength.

Ethos and Cindy Sheehan

I've always wondered why the mere mention of Cindy Sheehan's name can incite violent reactions in many Americans. I always assumed that it was because many people felt as if she were using her son's death to her advantage, as if being the mother of a fallen soldier and a war protester at the same time made her an instant celebrity. While this may be why many people dislike her, I believe the way she presents herself establishes an unflattering ethos for many listeners.

Throughout her speech she derides everyone not present at the protest. While she quotes (or, more accurately, paraphrases) great minds such as Emerson and Thoreau on materialism, she comes off insensitive to the lives of everyday people. Sheehan argues that if you can't bring yourself to sell all your possessions and follow her, you're not a true believer in the cause. She fails to take into consideration the responsibilities people have within families and communities. Furthermore, her words encourage angry words that are almost counterintuitive to a nonviolent protest - her followers shout out unflattering epithets at the White House and embellish her speech with rash comments of their own.

Sheehan's movement would be better served if she were to urge positive action instead of focusing on her hatred of the Bush Administration and mainstream culture. While I understand her anger and sense of betrayal that came as a result of her son's death, I question her ethos. Strangely, I find myself in agreement with plenty of what she said but I would never call myself her follower. Perhaps many other Americans feel the same way. If so, her polarizing character is a bigger hindrance to the movement than help.