The Quest For The "Negro Hipster" Continues ...

Not very long ago Gawker did a “Are you a hipster?” quiz. I took the opportunity to inquire about the “negro hipster” (see comments) asking for the more informed to provide examples of such a creature. I was quickly directed to a few candidates.

But the premise of my query still remains. Initially I proposed that perhaps the negro hipster doesn’t exist. Such a term might be redundant since so much of “hipsterdom” is about co-opting "hip" black culture (and I don’t say that with an "angry black militant" agenda, I say it like my boy Norman Mailer did, because it's true. Mr. Kamoji knows what I'm saying.)

Not long after, I noticed Joey at Straight Bangin’ inquiring about the same issue.

And now Byron Crawford has also joined the investigation. Although he’s not as focused on the "negro" part.

I recently reached out to Byron since I was feeling a little out of touch with my hip hop contingency. And so I'll use his story as my launching pad...

In covering the fashion, music, and party aspects the most critical element to being a hipster is overlooked. Unlike being a black person, being a hipster is a state of mind. And so the hipster keyword missing in his breakdown is “meta.” Byron submits irony as the hipster common denominator (HCD), I submit that the irony is more of an affectation. It is the flag for meta. For intelligence.

Byron ironically notes the hipster love for non-racist racism. But hipsters aren’t actually mocking black people (or other minorities). They’re actually mocking people mocking people that mock people mocking black people. Which, I think, still means they’re mocking black people, but over drinks you could get an argument, and there’s no way you could pin them on it.

Byron accurately points out what hipsters think is ironic, or funny. But it’s not really funny. It's meta-funny. It’s ha-ha funny. It’s acknowledge this funny. It’s "smart. " It’s a blogger. It’s the ugly-duckling late-blooming swan. It's Dave Eggers. It’s passive-aggressive. (probably went a few terms to far here)

Hipsters are all about post-modern, post-ironic. They are acutely self-reflexive and self-conscious. They are a byproduct of the information generation. There is no longer any external advantage to be gained if we all have access to the same information/power. So the end result is to look internal. To go meta. This sensibility, more than anything else, may be the distinguishing characteristic for a hipster. It is the essence of the “cool” that fuels the hipster locomotive. And this coolness translates to music, fashion, and partying in many ways, as demonstrated by Byron's great hipster-bingo chart.

(As a related thought, but one too involved to explore in this post, I also see hipsters representing a break from the Christian morality of previous generations, to a more Nietzschean worldview. The hipster sensibility springs from a "will to power" value system, as opposed to a judeo-christian (generally speaking) value system. Hipsters like niche. They like "individual", which is essentially the ultimate niche. This is notwithstanding the fact that "counter-culture" always eventually morphs into "culture" thereby undermining its own agenda. So they turn away from the external crutch of religion and look to themselves. Sort of an ironic self-help generation.)

I find the racial underpinnings evidenced in the hipster sensibility fascinating because I believe they represent progress. Hipsters handle race in a whole different way. A way that would be foreign to any previous generation. Vice, a prime source for hipster gospel, believes race is a dead issue. I think hipsters think the same way. They’re both wrong of course. But to have that adamant belief circulating amongst our young whipper-snappers is indicative of a new era of race relations. In many ways, because of "the hipster" and our new racial epoch, The Assimilated Negro concept is dated (luckily for me, most of us are dated in this regard, so I still have plenty of potential readers who won't write me off for being old-school). Plus since I’m meta enough to acknowledge that deficiency everyone can still appreciate the fruit of my loins. I mean the fruit of my toils, err labor. You know what I mean.

Now what I was talking about. Oh right, me. Oh wait, no, hipsters.

Hipsters are our first graduates from the school of racial equality (SORE). They are our first look at a new generation. Of course they have gook on their heads, look a little underdeveloped, and generally make you say ewww (which, by the way, is the new "make you say hmmm"). They have issues. But the thing is none of those issues are race issues. You think Blackface Jesus is a product of "old-school Jim Crow" sensibility, or is he a product of "I could give a fuck about this race shit" sensibility. I'm guessing the latter. And if I'm wrong I guess I'll kick his ass later.

So I guess, even though I'm no hipster, I'm down with hipsters. I think it's the artist in me. Because while the fashion and music may be ephemeral, I think the sensibility, the "mind of a hipster" is here to stay. And I'm saying that, like, totally unironically. Seriously. No meta-irony here at all.

Seriously. Stop looking for meta. It's over.

Thus Spach Sarah Palin: Become Hard

But no one asked or paid attention to the sweet somethings Sarah had whispered in his ear. He was not one to be easily aroused, but this was a special occasion....

"Let me quote you one of my favorites," she said to him in a lusty sotto vocce

Why so hard? the kitchen coal once said to the diamond.
After all, are we not close kin?
Why so soft? O my brothers, thus I ask you: are you not after all my brothers?
Why so soft, so pliant and yielding?
Why is there so much denial, self-denial, in your hearts? So little destiny in your eyes? 


And if you do not want to be destinies and inexorable ones, how can you one day triumph with me? 

And if your hardness does not wish to flash and cut through, how can you one day create with me? 

For all creators are hard.
And it must seem blessedness to you to impress your hand on millennia as on wax. 

Blessedness to write on the will of millennia as on bronze -- harder than bronze, nobler than bronze. Only the noblest is altogether hard.

This new tablet I place over you: Become hard!

"that's Friedrich Nietzsche," said Sarah, "lovelovelove him"

I Know That You Know That We Need A NEGROPEDIA...

...well, it's coming soon

drops 10/4. I think the pre-order is up and available

HOLLA

Where For Art Thou Black Lady Gaga?

I've caught the Lady Gaga fever of late. Methinks the proof for her legitimacy is in the live acoustic pudding.

When she's sitting at the piano doing her hipster-glam-quirky Amy Winehouse meets Alicia Keys (Alicia Winehouse?) thing we get a more intimate feel for the song itself, along with her naked vocals (vs. nude body suits, etc), and her own personal charm/isma.



and Paparazzi is a pretty tight piece of songwriting craftsmanship ...



Compare those with her official cinematic vids for those two songs and you have a spectacular case study for "Art over Artists".

Then her recent American Music Award exhibit is a nice capper on a string of raising-the-bar performance art stage shows.



I'm excited she and Kanye are schmoozing, I feel she represents exactly the over-the-top fantastical sensibility hip hop emcees struggle to assimilate into their own "art". Kanye is surely inspired by the ambition of her whole Artist Presence. Also, Beyonce. This video with her and Lady G is fairly compelling dreamscaping ...



Gaga says herself she played it down out of respect for the B, but I still think Beyonce holds her end down as Superstar Presence. (it's a video that raises other questions as well: for example LG schtick seems "post-racial" and Beyonce's def has a "black/racial" quality (is it just the hips, etc?) to it. what does that mean?) ... but either way - as to the race/culture angle on all this, per TAN commentary objective C-1-4.2 -- negroes need more of this kind-of-crazy so maybe B's alter-ego Sasha Fierce and Kanye's alter ego, uh, Kanye West could make some sort of Amorphous bi-inquisitive Black Lady Gaga superartist. it's like a homosexual black dude who raps, video-hoes, and plays the flute all at the same time. And lights his balls on fire at the end of every show. And he's twelve. A 12-year-old ball-lighting cello-farting falsetto-beatboxing prodigy. From a broken home in a forgotten hood. And diddy discovers him. And he blogs. And he's me. Or am I him? Or am I a she? Kanye Fierce: flute-fart-beatboxer extraordinaire? perhaps, perchance to dream bwahahahahaheehehehehoohohohoh, uhhhh, o-k-bai......

Quotable Nietzsche: Why TAN Is So Wise

(more and more feeling like TAN is trending towards a meaning closer to that of "The Assimilated Nietzsche" over "The Assimilated Negro", but then any minority rising to power is Nietzschean, so yeah, makes sense ... anyFried, more/excess is coming...)

"How much truth does a spirit endure, how much truth does it dare? more and more that became for me the real measure of value. Error (—faith in the ideal—) is not blindness, error is cowardice ... Every attainment, every step forward in knowledge, follows from courage, from hardness against oneself, from cleanliness in relation to oneself ... I do not refute ideals, I merely put on gloves before them."

~~

"Under these circumstances I have a duty against which my habits, even more the pride of my instincts, revolt at bottom, namely, to say: "Hear me! For I am such and such a person. Above all, do not mistake me for someone else!"

~~

"My practice of war is formulated in four principles: First: I only attack causes that are victorious,—I may even wait until they become victorious. Second: I only attack causes against which I would find no allies, so that I stand alone—so that I compromise myself alone ... I have never taken a step publicly that did not compromise me: that is my criterion of doing right. Third: I never attack persons,—I avail myself of the person merely as a powerful magnifying-glass that allows one to make visible a general, but creeping and elusive calamity [...snip...] Fourth: I only attack things when all personal differences are excluded, when any background of bad experiences is lacking. On the contrary, to attack is to me a proof of goodwill, sometimes even of gratitude. I honor, I distinguish therewith by associating my name with that of a cause or a person: for or against—that makes no difference to me at this point.

- all quotes from Ecce Homo: How One Becomes What One Is
(no homo?)

Dear TAN: Can I Be the Nubian 'Queen of Leon'?

Send your questions/letters to theassimilatednegro [at] gmail [dot] com.

In this edition: Kings of Leon bump in South Africa!

Dear Uncle TAN,

So I’ve got this problem, see I thought I’d cured my malady of assimilation by growing some locks. But it seems the infection was a little more deep seated than I thought, because lately I have become an unabashed fan of some unbecoming music for an intelligent, South African black woman like me. I am… a fan of Kings of Leon.

I could go into the sordid detailed angst of being an assimilated individual on African soil. (I say this with my head hanging in shame, because even though there’s a valid excuse for my current state of being, apartheid, I’m not proud). I don’t think it’d help to dredge up painful memories of being called a coconut when growing up but rather go right ahead and ask for your assistance – or insight.

How can this be? What’s wrong with me? I don’t think something like this would happen inversely.

Regards

Nubian Queen of Leon sing-along fan

~~

Dear Queen of Leon,

Why so glum? I refer you to the homey Nietzsche, "Maintaining cheerfulness in the midst of a gloomy task, fraught with immeasurable responsibility, is no small feat; and yet what is needed more than cheerfulness? Nothing succeeds if prankishness has no part in it."

It might help to know that by prankishness, he means farting. Nothing succeeds if farting has no role. And it's really true, when you think about it.

(*story idea: farting is the ultimate social palate cleanser; no one can be racist while people are farting. explore.* )

On to your particular issues:

1. One should not consider assimilation a malady, m'lady. Rejoice! Assimilation is alchemy of the human spirit. It is our collective will to power. The Kings bump in the mother-land? Good to know! TAN is an old swedish lady addicted to Too Short if you didn't just expand the matrix by a few dots with that particular impulse. give yourself a pat for being a true original.

2. You were called a "coconut"? Surely at some point in life you'll find this hilarious, but more important: did you grow up in the early twentieth century? In what era besides old-timey times can you call someone a "coconut" and have it register as being painfully offensive? Did they call you a coconut AND make fun of your pantaloons? Did they also call your mother a "liar"? There's really no conversation where "you're a coconut" is not a non sequitur. YOU'RE A DIRTY F'ING COCONUT!!! Uh, ok. *pause* Soooo, I was saying ...

3. I'm not as up on the Kings as perhaps I should be. But from a cursory checking out of their "media narrative" it seems they're a perfect example of how artists (or artists as identity-memes) often evolve over time (read: assimilate). They had grassroot support from the underground, then they blew up as pop stars of their genre. and now they have a faction of *original* fans who are like: yo, I remember when Kings of Leon use to not use deodorant and eat pork chops with their hands. Now they got haircuts and shit, Pfft!

Blah Blah. I refer you to the homey Hov, "everybody look at you strange and say you change, like you work that hard to stay the same".

4. This opens up the door for you, Queen of Leon, to appreciate that perhaps what resonates with you about The Kings is not the twang in their strings, but their southern rock approximation of being a coconut in Africa. THEY'RE A BUNCH OF FRIGGIN' COCONUTS, ALL OF 'EM!! At the very least, they'll let you bring a certain prankishness to any situation that arises.

Viva le Leon!

UPDATE: Kings of Leon Video Hot Pick, "Be Somebody"



image: via

Michael Jackson RIP: "I Want You Back"

"The End of Pop", looking at the story and legacy of Michael Jackson one song and video clip at a time.


1.1

It seems appropriate to start at the beginning; the first single from The Jackson 5 on Motown, "I Want You Back". A song about the most human of emotions: regret. And not regret for a loss that seems preordained by god, but human error. This isn't a hurricane that tore through town. It's not an accidental car crash. It's not having to leave abruptly for an unexpected job opportunity or to serve in the Army. It's the concession of a proactive conscious mistake: I was an ass, I fucked up, I'm sorry, I want you back.



regret is a funny emotion, it appeals to what presumably distinguishes us from chimps. we have ambition. we dream. we aspire. we try to understand love.

this was the sentiment mined by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, one of the most emotionally resonant movies of me and MJ's lifetime. "The world forgetting, by the world forgot." Or Nietzsche's, "Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders."

Knowing how things turned out, now, we can wonder what Michael might have given to forget. But what would he/we have lost if he forgot? in the case of love, and specifically, relationships, there's something that feels so inevitable about remorse. we regret doing. we regret not doing. what can ya do? would you rather be a chimp? (well, maybe, if it's Bubbles)

Eddie, Woody, & Michael: Do We Even Care About Genius Anymore?

On Gawk (I'll have some more MJ unpacking later/soon. Still processing ...):

Eddie Murphy, Woody Allen, Michael Jackson: All indisputable geniuses in the 80s. Hit-or-miss in the 90s. And, at least before the outpouring of adulation for Jackson today, you probably wouldn't want to trade reputations with any of them.

Everyone should have a go-to quote to come off like a learned smarty-pants. Mine is from Nietzsche who said, "the only proof of strength is excess of strength". I love it because in our current link-don't-tell culture it speaks to how proof of brilliance needs to be hyperlinkably obvious. For Woody, Eddie, and Michael this was never an issue. No one ever calls into question their obvious excess of talent. But yet, reading the news and reviews from the past week or so, and it seems being a genius doesn't seem to hold the same water it used to. At the least, critics and journalists appear to be challenging the statute of limitations on genius privileges like never before:

Eddie Murphy: This post was seeded by Brooks Barnes in the NY Times (who also was involved with NYT coverage of MJ) wondering how/why Eddie Murphy still had so much Hollywood clout, despite being the butt of more jokes than he makes these days. In the sidebar they list his top 5 box office grosses, totaling up to $780 million. If you throw in Coming to America and a couple of his middling performers like, say, Boomerang and Harlem Nights, you're approaching a billion dollars in box office bank before you even get to ten movies. Murphy is the #2 man all time at the box office, right behind Tom Hanks and ahead of names like Harrison Ford and Tom Cruise. So, what's the question again? Asking Hollywood why they keep going to Eddie Murphy is like asking why the Yankees keep putting ARod in the cleanup spot (despite inconsistent production).....

Eddie, Woody, Michael: Do We Care About Genius Anymore? [Gawker]

The Assimilator: or How to Philosophize with a Hammer, and the Hammer is Gawker

So Gawker is known for their gossip and *snarky* (sigh) take on current events. The writers -- certainly the ones I've known or met -- are all smart and generally sympathetic/aware of celebrities being human, or the deeper issues at play when a magazine is shuttered; but as per their job, usually need to cut to the witty, pithy chase at the expense of indulging, say, the modern window into the human condition The Hipster Grifter provides.

All to say, Gawker is not what anyone instinctively thinks of as a home for "panel discussions" on culturally resonant news/themes/stories. But we're trying to do just that on the weekend, via The Assimilator, and so far so good. We're still working on facilitating the "discussion" element, as it's tough to get professional opinion/taste-makers to stand where you want in line sans $ or significant lead-time. But we've got cool people, and opinions, and a space to share and exchange these things. So that, as the kids say, is something.

Nietzsche's Twilight of the Idols, is the guiding spirit here. Specifically: The Revaluation of all Values. Seems most writers, artists of sound mind and clear conscience are motivated by this impulse to reassess the world around them; "The Assimilator" is another on-ramp to merge -- mind meld? -- with the rest of those in the struggle.

We've finally got enough in the can to start the archived list, so that's what this is, in no particular order:

On the Recession Possibly Being Over?: Melissa Lafsky (Discover), Jozen Cummings (Vibe), Abiola Abrams (Planet Abiola)

On Double X Launch and Feminism: Pt. 1 - Amanda Marcotte (Pandagon), Jill Filipovic (Feministe), Pt. 2 - Jess McCabe (The F-Word), Matt Ufford (Warming Glow)

On White-Rapper Asher Roth: Byron Crawford (XXL), Touré (Rolling Stone), Tom Breihan (Pitchfork)

On University Reform: Pt. 1 - Dan Kois (New York), Kate Perkins (N+1), Pt. 2 - Macy Halford (The New Yorker), Jeff Chang (The Nation)

On Dan Baum vs. The New Yorker: Emily Gordon (emdashes), Troy Patterson (Slate), Eric Easter (EbonyJet)

On the Hipster Grifter: Doree Shafrir (Observer), Gavin McInnes (Street Carnage), Big Time Book Editor (Big Time Book Publisher)

On a Prospective Hipster Reality Show: Becky Sharper (Pursuit of Harpyness), Rachel Shukert (The Nosemaker's Apprentice), Robert Lanham (Hipster Handbook)

On Eminem's "We Made You": me (School of Hard Knocks, etc.)

The Assimilator [Gawker]

cartoon: via

New York Is The Mind State

OMG. It's soooo cute how Buffalo got featured in NY Mag earlier this last week; I loved how it was all if you can make it there, in Buffalo, you can make it anywhere, there ... in buffalo. So true!

And omg, it's been so totally cute reading the comments. When I first spotted the piece there were, like, 40 comments, and, like, 35 of them were all "yeah, Buffalo rocks. The Chinese food is much-better-than-you-expect and the other day we went somewhere and saw ... *turns to significant other* ... what did we see the other day, dear? Oh yeah that's it, CULTURE. We saw Culture the other night and it was absolutely wonderful and really just as good as any Culture i've read about it in big cites. And, might I add, not as much a drubbing on the wallet. "

Now (as of last week) there's 150+ comments (Buffalo, stand up!), and I can only assume its still about 90% of them hollering for Irrelevant City Buffalo, New York.

Which is really really sweet.

It almost makes me want to get on the first Greyhound to Buffaloville and gather in the Town Square with everyone and celebrate the better-than-you-think culture scene with singing songs.

Maybe ones everyone knows and can sing along with, like this one:



ahhh, those little town blues... nice to indulge those every once in a while.

it's funny cause i shared this article with a friend and she knew i'd been in the dumps about some work stuff recently and she was like, does this mean you want to leave NYC? And I was like, god, heavens no! Shoot, if i need to find lower prices and a thriving, underrated culture scene i can just move to Astoria.

Ha! I'm just joshin' with ya, Buff. Just a lil' good-ol' apostrophe-needin' small-town humor, knowwhaimsayin'?

I mean, I get it. You're not a lesser person just because you live in buffalo.

*cough*

Cause in some very irrelevant sense we all just go to work, talk to our neighbors, take the kids to school, etc. etc. And you can do that anywhere.

Well, anywhere except New York.

New York is tough, you gotta earn it.

Of course i'm a native NYer who has lived here his whole life. i'm obviously biased.



The thing is, it seems to me it's even more than a state of mind. New York is The Empire Mind State ..

Sure the center of the universe is separating into the haves and have-nots, but that doesn't mean rich and poor. NYC is by any means necessary: you don't have to be rich, you do have to be smart.

If you can make it here, it's because of your brain. When Hov says, "put me anywhere on god's green earth, i'll triple my worth." He means Buffalo too.

And I stress it because it's easy to get caught up in the handwringing over the accompanying superficial glitz and glam. And no question, the place is kind of dirty. In some places it's downright nasty even.

But that's just excess, in the Nietzschean sense: "The only proof of strength is excess of strength."

That's why our magazine is doling out props to Buffalo, instead of Buffalafrica Digest, or whatever they read out there, putting people on to Manhattan.

Now I'm pretty sure I'm not bursting anyone's Buffalopian Paradise or anything, and I totes-totally want to visit... I guess reading some of the comments got my greasy, oily NY feathers ruffled up.

I mean really people, if you go to Buffalo you might as well say you're going to Timbuktu, or going to Alaska, or even just going crazy cause all of them are more interesting.

[*rimshot* I'll be here all week ... in Buffalo!]

It's not that I think Buffalo -- or any small-town satellite -- is particularly unpleasant. They're definitely tolerable, like the citified embodiment of small talk... but—

I don't know, I guess I'm just an obnoxious pompous-assed New Yorker.

But I'll take it over Buffalo...



Could Mediocrity Make Someone Want To Leave New York And Move To Buffalo? Why Yes, Yes It Could. [NY Mag]

image

About TAN: Quotable Nietzsche

Nietzsche would make an hot speech writer, he and Obama would form a nice 1-2 punch. (Incidentally, one of the TAN Commandments is: thou shalt place no gods before Sir Homey Friedrich Nietzsche. Holla!):

Maintaining cheerfulness in the midst of a gloomy task, fraught with immeasurable responsibility, is no small feat; and yet what is needed more than cheerfulness? Nothing succeeds if prankishness has no part in it. Excess strength alone is the proof of strength.

A revaluation of all values: this question mark, so black, so huge that it casts a shadow over the man who puts it down — such a destiny of a task compels one to run into the sunlight at every opportunity to shake off a heavy, all-too-heavy seriousness. Every means is proper to do this; every "case" is a case of luck. Especially, war. War has always been the great wisdom of all spirits who have become too introspective, too profound; even in a wound there is the power to heal. A maxim, the origin of which I withhold from scholarly curiosity, has long been my motto:

Increscunt animi, virescit volnere virtus.
["The spirits increase, vigor grows through a wound."]

Another mode of convalescence (in certain situations even more to my liking) is sounding out idols. There are more idols than realities in the world: that is my "evil eye" upon this world; that is also my "evil ear." Finally to pose questions with a hammer, and sometimes to hear as a reply that famous hollow sound that can only come from bloated entrails — what a delight for one who has ears even behind his ears, for me, an old psychologist and pied piper before whom just that which would remain silent must finally speak out.

This essay blog — the title betrays it — is above all a recreation, a spot of sunshine, a leap sideways into the idleness of a psychologist. Perhaps a new war, too? And are new idols sounded out? This little essay blog is a great declaration of war; and regarding the sounding out of idols, this time they are not just idols of the age, but eternal idols, which are here touched with a hammer as with a tuning fork: there are no idols that are older, more assured, more puffed-up — and none more hollow. That does not prevent them from being those in which people have the most faith; nor does one ever say "idol," especially not in the most distinguished instance. (ed.: what about American Idol?, Nietzsche: d'oh!)

~ Friedrich Nietzsche

(spit that fire, son!)

Dear TAN: White Girlfriends And The Seeds of Discontent

I once started a neverending interview, but now we're switching to a "Dear TAN" feature. Send your questions/letters to theassimilatednegro [at] gmail [dot] com.

In this edition: White Girlfriend Ressentiment! (ressentiment is a word, perhaps, we could use more often?)

Dear TAN,

I hope your February isn't too cold! (You know how we don't like the cold.) [ed. note: yes this is old, d'oh!] I thought I'd drop you a line, soliciting some insight from a fellow partially assimilated negro.

I'm beginning to see feelings of resentment growing in my soul against my white girlfriend.

But I think it's more disdain for the white privilege from which she comes and its manifestations in her life.

Bemusedly,

DPW

~~

Dear Redacted,

Ahh, that old canard of caucasian coquettes and their craved kunta-kintes ... I know it well, my friend. Unfortunately, for your questions, easy answers there are none. A road map to Racial, Peaceofmind there is not, young jedi-negro. All I can tell you is where the hot hipster chicks hang out so you can get a new one.

But firstly we should confirm what we do know: White Privilege has everything to do with feelings about your White Girlfriend. Thats why we're using capital letters. If you're still wondering about that I'd say you should just reference her as "White Girlfriend" for a week or so, just for conditioning purposes. I mean what's the point of having one if you're not going to remember what she is, knahmean?

Moving on ... in the setup for your letter, I use the word "ressentiment," and that's not just my hip hop spelling of resentment. As the wise wiki above tells us they're two related but distinct terms, and I think very relevant to us assimilateds trying to manage the white angst (wangst?) dilemma.

Since I prefer to spit my Nietzsche to fine mamacitas in the wee hours over wine I won't really get into it now *cough* but Friedrich has a lot of real talk for black folk. And the long and short is ressentiment is about creating an object and subsequent morality out of being poorly treated. In the wiki they use a quote about birds of prey and lambs saying birds of prey may pick on the lambs, but it doesn't mean they dislike or hate the lambs, in fact quite the opposite, they think they're delicious. Meanwhile the lambs are sort of like F these birds, birds suck, we should get organized and start a F Birds revolution. This psychology is seen often with the black/white stuff because smart black people are always wringing their hands over whether we should be hating on The Man and engaging in the resistance, or seeing a brighter side etc. It translates well with the White Girlfriend issue because the White Girlfriend is more ostensibly not an enemy. Their weapons are fair-skin, blowjobs and cashmere vaginas (actually I think all girls have the latter two) so what's to revolt against ....?

Anywhite, I don't know if this helps you at all, but if you babble about this to your White Girlfriend she probably won't know what you're talking about, and you'll feel superior, and then maybe oral sex will ensue, and voila: no more resentment. The ressentiment might remain though.

Good luck!

-TAN

'The Gay Science' Clubs, Now With Extra Gay And Zero Science

The NY Sun does a little profile on some philosophy fan clubs, some of whom are celebrating the birthday of your father and mine, Friedrich Nietzsche, this Friday. I'm all aboard on Train Zarathustra, and as a blogger I know it is my duty to party like it's year 1999 in the Eternal Recurrence. But even the most depressed of existentialists has to chuckle at the "rock on" language in this party invitation:

"In the spirit of an ancient symposium," the Nietzsche Circle announcement reads, "imbibe the spirits of Dionysus and the food of Epicurus and engage in discourse on Nietzsche's philosophy in honor of his birth, accompanied by the dangerous music of the flute."

So I guess when Nietzsche said, "The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life is to live dangerously!" he meant you should have a hot flute soundtrack bumping in your ipod or in the background somewhere. Proceed accordingly.

These Fan Clubs Are For Deep Thinkers [NYSun]

(thanks AliZ)

Devil's Advocate: Global Warming

In my 100 things list I submit that I can argue for or against any position, except pro-Bush.

I also recently started a column for "Player Magazine" called "The Devil's Publicist." (pick up my first issue May 2nd)

So with that in mind I'm starting a regular "Devil's Advocate" feature on TAN. Using the blog to explore ideas for the print column. I hope the idea/premise is self-explanatory.

We're going to start with the subject of global warming. To which I say:

If You Can’t Take The Heat, Get Off Of The Planet

I’ve decided I’m pro global warming.

This is not to say I'm suspicious of the idea and its purported consequences. I do believe human activities are responsible for an increase in global temperature. I also believe the temperature increase is causing damage to our natural environment. I believe the planet is warming, and I believe that warming is indicative of our parasitic effect on the world around us. We are in fact destroying our world. I believe that wholeheartedly. And I'm down with the program.

Ultimately, what I’ve decided is that I also believe in people. I’m pro human. And the basis of my decision is that I support people, more than I support “the globe.” I’m not going to be coy about it anymore. Fuck the world! Not the people mind you, but the world. I mean, I don’t technically DESIRE for the world to go bye-bye, but if it’s us or the world in a steel-cage deathmatch, then hasta la vista planet. I’ll take my chances on Mars. I believe in people that much.

Frankly, if we want to destroy the world, that is our fucking volition. Those who can, do. Those who can't, hold protest rallies and sign petitions. Until this glorious day I didn’t understand the genius of George Bush. We mock him, but really we just don’t understand him, we don’t comprehend his genius. He’s a modern day Nietzsche. Will To Fucking Power. Fuck You, I Am America, Hear Me Roar!! We could learn something from that. We have to believe in ourselves. No matter how egregious the error, we can overcome it.

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. I ain’t scared of no “hot planet.” As far as I’m concerned if this Global Warming really takes off, all that’s going to happen is a new "Super-Hottt" remix of the Nelly song,“It’s Getting Hot In Here.” Then maybe microwave technology will be put in a time capsule and laughed at. And the guys who walk on hot coals will become best selling authors and consultants. The point being … we can handle it. We’ve got our media, we’ve got our computers, we’ve got ourselves. We have our brains, our desire, our will power. We have porn. We have the New York Mets. We have all sort of drugs. To be afraid of global warming is to be afraid of a challenge. You think Pfizer can't come up with a pill to help us cope with global warming? Who knows what form evolution will take. All we really need is a vision of the future that incorporates global warming. For example, no more turtlenecks, Northface puffy jackets, or UGGS boots.

What if, instead of using all our research and development to figure out alternative fuel, we use it to research and prepare for living in a world with a hot-ass environment. So what if the jungle becomes a swamp? And the swamp becomes, I don’t know, something worse than a swamp. So what? If some animals die, so what? Species have ceased to exist before. Others have continued on. Do we really miss the Dodo bird? What worldview is this where I have to concern myself with saving some cute furry creature who’s to stupid to get a real job and move out the forest. They’re supposed to be excused because they’re animals?? We live in a world where we prioritize personal responsibility and accountability. So I say, handle your business cute furry animal, or become gloves, … or a fur-lined condom.

We must expand our horizons. Change happens. And the beauty of life is we don’t know exactly what will change, and what the ramifications will be. But we always adapt. Holocausts, World Wars, Slavery, we’ve survived those natural disasters. We can laser fat, clone, and transplant faces. We can't handle a little heat?

We have to trust our instincts. Sure we want to think about our actions, and try to make wise decisions. And I can certainly understand people thinking the destruction of our planet is a little short-sighted. But we also want to be diligent about maintaining a perspective that doesn’t shortchange our own potential. To be afraid of global warming lacks ambition. The greater the challenge, the greater the reward.

What if we warm the globe, and because our bodies can’t stand the heat it inspires us to mentally project ourselves into some new "cooler" dimension. Thus global warming would have brought upon a new era of human existence. Sometimes when evil busts a nut, good comes of it (holla!).

If global warming becomes an immediate danger to our existence, then we will naturally combat it. We have it on our radar now. It's not going to surprise us. And even if it does surprise us and wipe a bunch of us out. Then hey, lesson learned. Mistakes are part of the process. Obviously a few of us will stick around to repop the planet. And if you look like Jake Gyllenhaal your odds are a little better than the rest of us.

I say bring it all on!! Bring on global warming, bring on AIDS, bring on obnoxious hipsters. There is no mountain we can’t climb. If the above happens, we adapt, evolve and become self-cooling, AIDS-repellent obnoxious-hipster killers. RARRRR!! And guess what, if you don't have faith, if you're scared, then you deserve to die from overexposure to UV rays like the little pansy you are.

Natural selection baby. We're taking evolution into our own hands. And if you can't take the heat, you WILL get off of the planet. One way or another.

Thus spach TANathustra.