Commercializing the Counter Culture
Defiance of the norm has always been the true meaning of cool, and everyone wants to be cool. There's a reason why the James Deans and the Johnny Cash's of this world will forever be immortalized as borderline deity's among the rest of us, it was their blatant disregard for what society wanted them to be, they seized their moment and became legends. The list of rebellious idols most certainly does not begin and end with James Dean and Johnny Cash, the list dates back as far as we can trace our history. There have been rebellious icons such as William Wallace, Poncho Villa, and our Founding Fathers who are remembered for challenging tyrannical governments by brute force and violence. There were peace oriented rebels such as Dr. Martin Luther King who believed in a time of hate and oppression, that love for our fellow man was the answer. We've seen pop-culture icons such as The Beatles lay the ground work for generations of future musicians by creating true and vulnerable art. Last but not least, the most important rebels I've personally ever encountered were the long haired, tatted up, pierced degenerates that listened to crude punk rock and treated skateboarding as a religion and not a hobby. I was first introduced to this grungy, sub-culture of misfits in the summer of 1999.
I was six years old the first time I heard blink-182. I was in my oldest sisters convertible
Miata with the top down, blaring Enema of the State and singing along (cuss words and all) on a beautiful Colorado evening. I remember the way it felt outside, I remember the way the sun was setting, I remember it feeling like we were going a thousand miles an hour, I remember the songs playing so loud that the stock speakers in this Mazda sounded like they were about to explode, I remember feeling my first connection with music that night. My sister had taken me out of the house because my parents were in one of their vicious fights with each other, she saw that I was scared of the anger and becoming angry myself. So she picked me up, threw me in the car, and we were off. She put the CD in and told me "Jav, you can't let Mom and Dad know that I let you listen to this. OK?" Of course I agreed! I was in the cool kid club now doing shit I wasn't supposed to be doing with my big sister, I was flying high all of the sudden. The sadness I had felt before was lifting, and with every passing song, I felt this connection with the music that was so raw and unfiltered that at that moment I knew why it was cool to be bad.
Why is going against the grain so satisfying? Is it the freedom from rules that once controlled you? Is it the sudden validation of your own persona? Is it because at that moment you feel your first sense of originality? Whatever the reason may be for this euphoric feeling, just know it is not one to be ignored, and that nothing compares. There is no top shelf bottle of booze, there is no drug, nor any pill that recreates this feeling. And if you have not felt it yet then you have not lived my friend. This is how we step into our own path, by breaking the one that was earlier determined for us.
So there I was a six year old with a new found love for songs about sex, drugs, and challenging authority. That’s a pretty drastic change from the singing cucumber I had been listening to on veggie tales up to this point in my life. It was in that same summer I was introduced to an incredible young man named Brian, who became a prolific part of my growing up. Brian was energy personified, he was young skater from San Diego that was dating my sister. He looked like the cover of Thrasher come to life before me. Brian introduced me to skateboarding and the wonderful sub-culture that this sport had enveloped. I loved how these guys looked, long hair, piercings, tattoos, the baggy torn clothing, all of it. Their look made me want to burn my white tube socks and Gap t-shitrts. I was enamored with the way they spoke, their slang was like a foreign language that I had to become fluent in myself. I wanted to be one of them so bad it hurt, but my parents weren’t ready to see their son in the First Grade become a skater punk over night (and I don’t blame them). But them trying to push me away from that scene just set in motion the, as I like to call it, “the wet paint syndrome” where you tell a child not to something with such ferocity that the temptation only grows.
As the years went on I saw skateboarding become less of a frightening aspect to suburbia, and more of a household name. Extreme sports were the new cool, punk rock (or pop punk if you will) was all over the billboard top 40, movies like Jackass made rockstars out of a band of self destructive assholes. America was in love with this sub culture because of its unrelenting originality and truth to ones self. Theses guys were convicted to the ideal of not giving a fuck, and the less they cared about their own image the more we wanted from them, and eventually we did with this ideal what we do best as Americans, we commercialized it and saturated the ever loving shit out of it.
Before long the edginess of being a skater was dwindled down to nothing more than just another piece of pop-culture. And as I began to grow older I found myself drifting away from skating more and more, maybe it was the fact that I felt a "hipster-ish" sense of disconnect when it lost its underground appeal, or maybe I was just growing into my own. Whatever the reason, I never lost that sense of rebellion that it had created inside of me, that shit was deeply imbedded in my DNA and there was nothing I could do about it. No matter how much time passes, I still feel an undeniable urge to challenge any opposing sense of authority, and take everything I’m told with a skeptical grain of salt. Now don’t get me wrong these cynical character traits of mine have gotten me in more trouble than I’d like to admit, but I wouldn’t trade a single moment for a life more timid or mild.
A rebellious spirit is a gift. I've carried that phrase with me for years, through thick and thin like it was a precious heirloom. A dear friend of mine told me that when I was an eighteen year-old on the down and outs, and I was confused as to how a shitty attitude towards the world could possibly be a gift. He explained to me that the reason that having a truly rebellious spirit is a blessing, is due to the simple duality that some of us are born to conform, and others have the ability to see the path that life has laid before us and defiantly make our own. Some of us our not meant for picket fences, some of are a bit more "Office Space" than we are "The Office", some of us feel like we're at the climax of the "Truman Show" and we must set out on our own. All major progress throughout history has been made by those who stood unafraid with firmly planted feet and clenched fists raised high and proud against what they felt stood in the way of their own personal progress, but I'm very afraid that we are losing our footing, we've loss the fire in our belly's, and the trail-blazers have lost their way.
I look around and I see a young generation full of potential that has been convinced that conformity is cool. It's only acceptable to stand up for beliefs that infringe on the freedoms of others, our rebels today are nothing more than weak-hearted bitches disguised as martyrs begging pathetically for acceptance. We've commercialized our counter cultures so fucking hard that there is nothing left. Every ideal that is pushed upon us is a candy-coated agenda that is packaged to look like progress, when in all reality we are only limiting our own liberties. I know I spent a large chunk of this article writing my "coming of age" tale, and the reason I went into such detail about my first connections with punk-rock, the metaphoric highs that I caught on stepping out against rules and standards I found to be meaningless, the abstract and out of the box heroes that I emulated as a kid, and the overall "fuck the world" mentality that I tend to have is because all of these experiences gave me the posture and the backbone I have today to speak my mind without fear. I want nothing more than to promote a culture of free thinking individuals unafraid to make a better life for themselves. All in all, I’m not trying to preach to you from my soap box, saying that anyone reading this needs to grow out their hair, listen to slayer, and have a “Into the Wild” type come to Jesus moment and become a full blown nihilist. What I’m trying to convey through all of these elaborate analogies and drawn out stories, is simply this, with each passing day we become more under the thumb of political correctness and the walls that restrict what we say and do are caving in rapidly. We have but one truly free domain left, and that is our minds, that’s all that we have control over. So I beg of you to no longer be afraid, to no longer be silent, to no longer be docile, let fear no longer consume your expression.
I was six years old the first time I heard blink-182. I was in my oldest sisters convertible
Miata with the top down, blaring Enema of the State and singing along (cuss words and all) on a beautiful Colorado evening. I remember the way it felt outside, I remember the way the sun was setting, I remember it feeling like we were going a thousand miles an hour, I remember the songs playing so loud that the stock speakers in this Mazda sounded like they were about to explode, I remember feeling my first connection with music that night. My sister had taken me out of the house because my parents were in one of their vicious fights with each other, she saw that I was scared of the anger and becoming angry myself. So she picked me up, threw me in the car, and we were off. She put the CD in and told me "Jav, you can't let Mom and Dad know that I let you listen to this. OK?" Of course I agreed! I was in the cool kid club now doing shit I wasn't supposed to be doing with my big sister, I was flying high all of the sudden. The sadness I had felt before was lifting, and with every passing song, I felt this connection with the music that was so raw and unfiltered that at that moment I knew why it was cool to be bad.
Why is going against the grain so satisfying? Is it the freedom from rules that once controlled you? Is it the sudden validation of your own persona? Is it because at that moment you feel your first sense of originality? Whatever the reason may be for this euphoric feeling, just know it is not one to be ignored, and that nothing compares. There is no top shelf bottle of booze, there is no drug, nor any pill that recreates this feeling. And if you have not felt it yet then you have not lived my friend. This is how we step into our own path, by breaking the one that was earlier determined for us.
So there I was a six year old with a new found love for songs about sex, drugs, and challenging authority. That’s a pretty drastic change from the singing cucumber I had been listening to on veggie tales up to this point in my life. It was in that same summer I was introduced to an incredible young man named Brian, who became a prolific part of my growing up. Brian was energy personified, he was young skater from San Diego that was dating my sister. He looked like the cover of Thrasher come to life before me. Brian introduced me to skateboarding and the wonderful sub-culture that this sport had enveloped. I loved how these guys looked, long hair, piercings, tattoos, the baggy torn clothing, all of it. Their look made me want to burn my white tube socks and Gap t-shitrts. I was enamored with the way they spoke, their slang was like a foreign language that I had to become fluent in myself. I wanted to be one of them so bad it hurt, but my parents weren’t ready to see their son in the First Grade become a skater punk over night (and I don’t blame them). But them trying to push me away from that scene just set in motion the, as I like to call it, “the wet paint syndrome” where you tell a child not to something with such ferocity that the temptation only grows.
As the years went on I saw skateboarding become less of a frightening aspect to suburbia, and more of a household name. Extreme sports were the new cool, punk rock (or pop punk if you will) was all over the billboard top 40, movies like Jackass made rockstars out of a band of self destructive assholes. America was in love with this sub culture because of its unrelenting originality and truth to ones self. Theses guys were convicted to the ideal of not giving a fuck, and the less they cared about their own image the more we wanted from them, and eventually we did with this ideal what we do best as Americans, we commercialized it and saturated the ever loving shit out of it.
Before long the edginess of being a skater was dwindled down to nothing more than just another piece of pop-culture. And as I began to grow older I found myself drifting away from skating more and more, maybe it was the fact that I felt a "hipster-ish" sense of disconnect when it lost its underground appeal, or maybe I was just growing into my own. Whatever the reason, I never lost that sense of rebellion that it had created inside of me, that shit was deeply imbedded in my DNA and there was nothing I could do about it. No matter how much time passes, I still feel an undeniable urge to challenge any opposing sense of authority, and take everything I’m told with a skeptical grain of salt. Now don’t get me wrong these cynical character traits of mine have gotten me in more trouble than I’d like to admit, but I wouldn’t trade a single moment for a life more timid or mild.
A rebellious spirit is a gift. I've carried that phrase with me for years, through thick and thin like it was a precious heirloom. A dear friend of mine told me that when I was an eighteen year-old on the down and outs, and I was confused as to how a shitty attitude towards the world could possibly be a gift. He explained to me that the reason that having a truly rebellious spirit is a blessing, is due to the simple duality that some of us are born to conform, and others have the ability to see the path that life has laid before us and defiantly make our own. Some of us our not meant for picket fences, some of are a bit more "Office Space" than we are "The Office", some of us feel like we're at the climax of the "Truman Show" and we must set out on our own. All major progress throughout history has been made by those who stood unafraid with firmly planted feet and clenched fists raised high and proud against what they felt stood in the way of their own personal progress, but I'm very afraid that we are losing our footing, we've loss the fire in our belly's, and the trail-blazers have lost their way.
I look around and I see a young generation full of potential that has been convinced that conformity is cool. It's only acceptable to stand up for beliefs that infringe on the freedoms of others, our rebels today are nothing more than weak-hearted bitches disguised as martyrs begging pathetically for acceptance. We've commercialized our counter cultures so fucking hard that there is nothing left. Every ideal that is pushed upon us is a candy-coated agenda that is packaged to look like progress, when in all reality we are only limiting our own liberties. I know I spent a large chunk of this article writing my "coming of age" tale, and the reason I went into such detail about my first connections with punk-rock, the metaphoric highs that I caught on stepping out against rules and standards I found to be meaningless, the abstract and out of the box heroes that I emulated as a kid, and the overall "fuck the world" mentality that I tend to have is because all of these experiences gave me the posture and the backbone I have today to speak my mind without fear. I want nothing more than to promote a culture of free thinking individuals unafraid to make a better life for themselves. All in all, I’m not trying to preach to you from my soap box, saying that anyone reading this needs to grow out their hair, listen to slayer, and have a “Into the Wild” type come to Jesus moment and become a full blown nihilist. What I’m trying to convey through all of these elaborate analogies and drawn out stories, is simply this, with each passing day we become more under the thumb of political correctness and the walls that restrict what we say and do are caving in rapidly. We have but one truly free domain left, and that is our minds, that’s all that we have control over. So I beg of you to no longer be afraid, to no longer be silent, to no longer be docile, let fear no longer consume your expression.