The Post-Modern College Kid

I was a superstar my senior year in high school. Only two things swelled my ego more than watching clueless freshmen get in trouble. One was praise from parents and teachers, and their pats on the back and sugar-sweet phrases. “You’re such a good student! And we’re going to miss you next year!” The other thing was the college admission process. By the time I took my SATs, I had a respectable collection of college brochures.

And anyone who has seen a college brochure should know how cool they are. They shine and shimmer like gold. Some even have multiple pages, depending on how much they like you. The pictures of campus look like someone put Oxford University in the fields of Elysium. The students smile like they’re living in paradise. And their testimonies burst with passion and purpose. And the list of luxuries and majors make your eyes water. How do you choose between such paradises?

I did. I’m currently a freshman at my own “Oxfelysium”, Benedictine College. I loved the brochures. And when I went to an overnight, I was completely seduced. I completed my first semester in December.

This experience gives me the right to say something authoritative about college students. I think there’s a conception people have about them, and I don’t like it.

Take a look at one of those brochures, if you have one. Or Google some college websites. I guarantee you will see a picture of a student, of a special kind. He (or she) is physically attractive, not like a movie star but never ugly. Usually the person’s wearing a comfy hoodie, or a polo and khakis at the most. Casual wear. Comfortable wear. They always smile, practically boasting of what a wonderful time they’re having. That’s the image of the conception.

And here’s the expectation. Peers and superiors tell me, as I go to school, to study hard and have fun. They want me to put in the time, and keep the grades up, and do activities and make friends. Oh, and don’t drink or get anyone pregnant. Keep that up for four years. Get the degree. And take on the world! I tell them sometime, with a playful smile, that I’m not working as hard as they think. Laughs ensue. Life goes on. It’s okay if I slack a little.

In essence, from what I gather, the college student is expected to stay out of trouble, get along with everybody, get fine grades, do a plethora of activities, have good times and good friends, and graduate in four years to the acclaim of all. I cannot accept this ideal.

That whole “don’t get in trouble” idea cannot be right. I have friends who drink. If I have a drunk friend who needs to get back home, I’d like to think I would find him and get him home. Even if it means getting caught at a party where people are breaking the law. Friendship should be more important than putting up a good show. We still have moral obligations, understand. But what if those run against what people consider “getting in trouble”?

And about that degree. What good is it? Is it truly why we go to college? Our purpose there cannot be the fun times or friendships; both are everywhere, and not just at school. The degree, then? No! The degree can help get a job. But that’s only to get a home, clothes, food and the other necessities. It gives knowledge and understanding about a subject, but it’s just one subject in the end. Something else must be involved. Something that covers all the subjects. That something is the quest for truth, or God.

This quest won’t always fall in line with what people want. What if Johnny McCharming disagrees with Brad Darling about abortion, and neither presses the issue? Neither of them will challenge each other. They will hold their opinions. They will learn nothing. They will grow no closer to the truth. Surely that is not what college students are meant to do! When you’re trying to find the answer to everything, you will step on someone’s toes. Can that image of sweet complacency hold you back?

These concerns may seem trivial. But I cannot dismiss them. In the end, everyone must understand oneself, and what is going in the world, and what the world is, and why one isthere, and why he’s there, and what he’s going to do in it. If people are caught up in that college image I described, and not those questions, then there’s a problem. Purge your mind of that smiling, hip youngster in the hoodie. He needs all the prodding and pushing he can get to confront the big questions. The ones whose answers spell his fate and that of his world.

What The Huck?

(WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT)

Normally I don’t feel the urge to lynch anybody, but right now I’d like some rope, if you have any handy. I saw reports on Twitter that The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is being sanitized. I checked some headlines. It’s true. A new edition is coming out that’s taking out two terms: “Nigger” and “Injun” (See NPR or CNN's report).

If you have ever read Huckleberry Finn, you know this is not a minor adjustment. Mark Twain sprinkles the words in his novel the way my father sprinkles salt and pepper on steak and potatoes. That means a lot. Altering the text that much will have consequences. One of them is, as the links above mention, that more schools might let kids read the book. According to the links above, it’s grade-schoolers that the editors have specifically in mind.

This isn’t the first time people have tried to do this to Huckleberry Finn. Nevertheless, here comes the rant. I’m not buying it, and this is why.

First off, the action itself says something that I don’t like. These fellows are changing the words of a document from another age, and fixing it to fit the beliefs of this age. The implication is that it is only the beliefs of our age that are important, and that all that has come before can be destroyed and forgotten. I denounce that. Utterly. I am not saying that what was believed in the past is necessary “just as true”. That is moral relativism, which I also denounce.

What I am saying is that it is vitally important for the truth to stand. If it was common in the 1800s to call a black person a nigger, then that’s a clue to understanding that century. We cannot take that term out of 1800s documents. The people in the 1800s did some things wrong, and some things right. So do we. We have enough trouble deciding who got what right without changing up the words that the people in the 1800s wrote. It’s part of the conversation we have with the rest of humanity, trying to piece together what has happened- and what it means for us, here and now.

Now, obviously this isn’t happening to all copies of Huckleberry Finn; just this special edition. Regardless, I scorn the message implicit in their actions. Do you think you can separate an action from what it says?

Now the grade school thing is kind, and well-meaning. But it’s not enough to justify my problem above, and I’m not sure I buy it itself. If you won’t have your 8^th graders reading books with controversial words, wait until you think they’re old to handle it. One of the three high schools I attended didn’t mandate Huckleberry Finn until junior year. I was there junior year. The discussions I had with my classmates were great. There are things going on in that book that grade-schoolers will have trouble getting at. And don’t even get me started with the dialogue.

That doesn’t mean they can’t try. But how can one justify letting them grapple with deep literary devices and metaphors, and not let them grapple with the historical context of “nigger”? In fact, showing it to them in Huckleberry Finn may be healthy. I think it’s fair to say that many schools have a swearing problem. I don’t have statistics or first-hand knowledge of grade schools, but I’ve seen plenty of high-schoolers, public and private who use a host of foul words and I don’t think it happened overnight. Where are our kids going to hear this word? In a book with historical context and discussion, or laughing with their schoolmates (or listening to a Lil Wayne rap)?

One Man With A Candle

You wouldn’t expect people to be spending more money on fun, would you? The Great Recession is gone here in the U.S.A., but times are still tight. And it shows. According to USA Today, 2010 was one of the worst years in history for movie theater attendance. Movies? The one thing Americans are supposed to love? The thing that helped them get through the Great Depression? Uh-oh. With news like that, there’s no way any form of entertainment could prosper this year. Right?

Wrong.

I was flabbergasted when I found this article at CNN. Turns out Disneyland, and another theme park next to it, had so many people coming in over the holidays that they had to stop selling tickets.

Normally, I might laugh at the good ole Cable News Network. Around the time of trouble in the Ivory Coast, killing in the rest of the Middle East, and a spying accusation by Iran to the U.S.A., an amusement park craze doesn't seem newsworthy. At all. I can feel my lip curl in a smirk already.

But no. This is significant. In a nation where everyone seems to be tightening their belts still, Disneyland is still getting floods of customers. Floods! The film industry had to raise ticket prices to hide their dwindling attendance- and Disneyland had so much holiday attendance that they can’t handle it all. Something’s going on with that park, and whatever it is, it’s persuading thousands of Americans to flock to it and spend insanely (admission alone is $68 for one kid!).

Anything with that power deserves a look. And this Walt Disney fellow has been knocking on my mind's door for a while. Yes, let’s take a look. What’s the lure behind the Disney brand?

In 1901, a boy was born in Missouri. He liked to draw. He had a knack for it. After a stint with the Red Cross in World War One, he went to Hollywood. During the Depression he had a big break in animation. He made a feature-length cartoon about an old fairytale, and it was expensive, and it was risky, and it paid off. Success came after success, and soon Walt Disney was king of cartoons. He even made an amusement park in the 50s, and another (even bigger one), later on. He created a company that has only grown bigger since he left.

No, that doesn’t help. All I see there is the story of one more successful businessman. We Americans aren’t surprised to hear about such things. I don’t think of that when I think of Disney. I don’t even think of a man at all, usually, when I hear that. Break it down. Dis-ney. Sounds kinda Polish, or something Eastern European, when you think about it. Is that the first time you’ve ever thought of that?

It is for me. I’ll tell you what I think of when I hear Disney. I think of my childhood. Don’t you? I, like many, grew up watching all the classics. Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Peter Pan. The Lion King. Pinocchio. Toy Story. Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (that was the old fairy tale mentioned above). Yeah, some of these are princess stories, and I am a man and proud to admit I want to watch them again.

Because there’s something about these movies that make them utterly unlike any other movie. You’ve probably read enough DVD covers and seen enough commercials to know people hype “the Disney magic”. Well, it’s true. Maybe Walt and his successors were just that good. Or perhaps their work was marketed so well they seem like they’re special. Either way, the magic is real. You don’t hear kids talk about Shrek or Bugs Bunny the same you hear them talk about Mickey Mouse. Or Snow White, or Simba, or all the other Disney heroes and heroines. They’re all on a whole different level. I’m sitting here typing these, and they’re all washing out my eyes, and bringing me back to when I was so tiny and innocent, sitting captive before a screen, eyes wide open as Jiminy Cricket croons in front of an open window.

I can feel it in my chest. No lies. Something is welling in my soul even as I type this. And I look all across the Disney empire. Look at those theme parks! Disneyland is still going handsomely, as we've seen. So many billions of dollars, and tons of wood, steel, plastic, and manpower… to create such a grand, overpowering illusion. It’s every kid’s dream. Go to a castle! See a princess! Pirates! Heroes! Villains! Just like Neverland. Look at the toys! I know I’ll never list all the action figures, plush dolls, and costumes that sprang around those stories, over all these years. Look at the music! I’m at a liberal arts college, and I have enough classmates who know and adore “Disney songs” to fill a choir.

Think of all that! I don’t know if you love this stuff, but darn it, I do! And there it is, right there. That feeling. Call it sentimental or deluded, but it will not fade without a fight. I’m going to use a cliché, and it’s name is imagination. Disney was famed for that. And somehow, after all the corporate soullessness that brought us Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers, and all the hotels and bars at the theme parks (resorts, they call them now), that still captivates me.

I’m not the only one. I think at least one person who is reading this post right now can relate to this feeling I have. What I feel is contact with something extraordinary. There is a part of us that, for better or worse, loves fantasy. That part wants an adventure. To go into different and colorful lands, and see fairies, and kings, and monsters, and sorcery, and good and evil, and all those things we saw in Disney’s movies. He brought that escape to life better than anyone I can think of. And I look at his famous signature, or see those three circles that form Mickey’s head, and I feel it. I feel contact with that escape, with a pulsing, glorious land of magic. And dreams. Sweet, soaring dreams. Something disconnected from our dreary world in a way that sweeps away our woes and frailties, and makes us golden like babes once more.

That’s what drove those people to Disneyland over Christmas. That’s what takes us in, every time. And it can’t be what we want more than anything; that I see now. God has something waiting for us that will be so much better than Disney’s dreams, we could discard them for a dime. But so long as we recognize that, it is beautiful and it can be enjoyed. This is the nectar and ambrosia of the human soul on Earth. Enjoy it! Just don’t let it become something that it’s not. I saw some comments on that article ranting about how crowded and miserable the park was. Don't stake everything in a human institution.

The way it is, it could change your life if you let it. I truly believe that. And I would have no trouble believing that the Disney magic has a connection, somewhere, somehow, however slight or alluding, with the experience of God Himself. A promise of what is to come? I'll have to think about that.

In the meantime, I have just the song for you below this sentence. Have a magical 2011.

A Deep Breath

Marc Barnes, who pens a fine blog called BadCatholic, has left me sheepish. He posted about a snow day. Just a snow day. And praised it. (Snow When It is White)

Looking at my posts over the last couple of months, I’ve speculated about actors, bashed Coloradoan rappers, evaluated common curse words, praised my favorite rock band… and all throughout mined my own opinions. As well a blogger should.

But you know what? I think based on the blogs I’ve been reading, we bloggers complain too much. Marc's on to something. I’m taking a deep breath. And I’m going to tell you how wonderful my life is.

I’m sitting in a brown armchair, and I’m melting into the cushions. My father’s in a chair next to me, reading the Wall Street Journal. He spent 20 years in the Marine Corps, and four years after getting out received his PhD in theology. He teaches now at the University of Great Falls.

My little brother is playing Journey on the piano, somewhere in the distance. And I must say he’s rocking it. He, my other brothers, and I cruised iTunes today, using the gift cards our parents gave us. I used mine last night, and stayed up till midnight with my new songs from House of Heroes, The Classic Crime, The Beatles, The Almost, and more delightful rock bands.

I look out my window. The skies are painted with white clouds, split by patches of lazy blue. Under them sleeps a hillside with half-melted snow. A quiet little Montana city sprawls some hundreds of yards away.

In a week and a half I’m taking a plane to Kansas City, and from thence to Benedictine College, at one of the best Catholic schools in the country. I’m living the life millions of people would love to have. I don’t want to lord that over anybody, but I cannot deny. This feels good.

I won’t ignore reality, and the reality is that this world is ridden with evil, and that this world is not my home. There is a deeper reality. And the more we ignore it the more we're going to hurt. Abortion. Adultery. Bad entertainment. Drugs. Wars. Hunger. They're all symptoms, and I think they're going to get worse.

But sitting here, in a good home, with a good family, with a good feeling… I can’t help but think everything’s gonna be alright. There’s going to be a storm in this country, and if things keep up it’s going to hurt. But it won’t last. Nothing that bad can last. There will be sunlight through the clouds. I can’t tell you where precisely it will come, but I’m certain. We cannot imagine the things God can do for us. We have barely begun to see what He is. He'll come through, in a way that will blow everyone away. I think I believe that.

Have a wonderful day. Take a deep breath, and make it good and long. And do what you must.

What If You Were _________?

This first part is for men. Scroll down if you want the part for women. There's one question for each. For men, a lesson first. If you don’t know what I mean by “The Old Spice Guy”, he's the actor in a commerical for Old Spice commercial that was a national sensation. Millions of YouTube views. Physically, he's what millions of guys would love to be. Big chest, arm muscles, manly beard, and a towel around his waist. And so on. I won't post a picture because the commercial has him shirtless, and that might bother some readers.

To the question…  what if one of you woke up as this guy? Seriously. Think about it. You go to bed as your same old self, whether it be fat, skinny, or riddled with acne, or whatever… and then you wake up, look in the mirror, look at yourself- and you’re him. The biggest stud on the block. Quite possibly the universal block. It doesn’t change as your day goes on, and eventually you accept your body has changed into this astounding, muscular freight train. You get the voice and everything else, too, but no changes in memory or personality or anything like that.

What would you do? You want it to stay? You want it to go? You gonna go ask out that special brunette who you’ve been crushing on for three years without breathing a word? Go out to the nightclubs and explode onto the party scene? Try a career in acting?

This next part is the question for women. If you are a woman or girl reading this post... what if you woke up tomorrow to find you looked like Megan Fox? She’s an actress who’s popular, as near as I can figure, for physical appearance- a lot like the Old Spice Guy. She's attractive, in that glamorous, eye-popping Hollywood way. And now so are you. What would you do that day? As for men with the Old Spice Guy, you’d have Megan’s appearance and voice, not any personality traits.

Whether you hail from Venus or Mars, I’m not trying to be a creeper with this question. In fact, I think the question’s a goldmine for philosophical and moral insights. What would other people do? What would they want to do? What would the best way to use the new appearance? Is it even desirable to have as compared to your old body?

Comment, if you have an answer and feel like sharing it.

According To Plato, You Might Be A Sissy

Not comforting news, is it? That’s a powerful accusation, considering this man’s reputation. One of the several enlightening events of my first semester in college has been reading The Republic. I haven’t read anything else from Plato, so everything I will say here I say based on what he says in that one book. So perhaps I should fix the title, and switch The Republic for Plato. But when it comes to catchy titles, poetic license is indispensable, so let’s leave that alone and get to the point.

Plato talks some in The Republic about music and poetry. In the midst of describing the perfect city, Plato describes how to educate the residents. Note that this education, for Plato, was for the select residents he meant to defend his ideal city and keep it ideal. Also note that what he called music, we call media. Music for Plato, if he was alive today, would be not only our music, but also our movies, Internet games, and anything else that reaches people. Gymnastics is all athletic pursuits. While he’s talking about these, he mentions a danger.

“But if he keeps at it (listening to music) unrelentingly and is beguiled by the music, after a time his spirit is melted and dissolved until it vanishes, and the very sinews of his soul are cut out and he becomes a “feeble warrior””.

Too much music makes us weaklings.

The first thing I did after reading that was to look at my tummy. I have a rather round tummy, I’m afraid to say. I haven’t played serious sports in more than a year, and I’ve been living soft ever since. Naturally, then, Plato raises some pertinent questions for me. I’ve been listening to music way too much; I’m on YouTube right now listening to a catchy rap.

Not anymore. I just clicked out of it, and now I’m thinking. I’m hardly the only one who likes to do this. We Americans love music. We’ve wound it so deep in our culture and ourselves… well, I suppose all cultures do. Nevertheless, I observe…

Our most famous musicians are more famous than our soldiers in war. I can’t think of any man who ever earned a Medal Honor, and of Purple Heart winners I can only name John Kerry. And that only because of, interestingly enough, a political satire song.

What I can name in abundance are the most popular musicians and singers and bands right now: Black Eyed Peas, Zac Brown Band, Ke$ha, My Chemical Romance, Lady GaGa, Avenged Sevenfold and enough more to fill an orchestra. Pun intended.

I know more words to “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey than to my country’s national anthem. There are many, many people here who don’t know their national anthem at all.

Pop stars have to be protected in case the masses try to mob them, out of some mindless, crazed attraction to the pop stars’ fame, and their persona, and the songs that walk with them. Like a moth to a flame. A thousand moths to a flame.

I see danger here. Do you?

One of The Greatest Rock Bands Of Our Time

You read that right. My favorite rock band is one of the greatest rock bands out there right now. I am not sarcastic or trying for any vague, complicated metaphor. I speak directly and I blaze with confidence.

Say hello to House of Heroes. They’re an alternative rock band from Columbus, Ohio, currently signed with Gotee Records. No, you’ve never heard of them. Their genre… oh… let me tell it this way. Take the vocal harmonies from Queen. Throw them in with those magical melodies the Beatles had. Shake well, and throw in pop/punk from Relient K and Jimmy Eat World, rock from Weezer, and lightly sprinkle with Tom Petty and Muse. Bake to perfection. 

That is what I’m talking about, and if you’re licking your chops right now, you won’t be disappointed. 

They found out with this 2008 album, The End Is Not The End, that all four of them can sing. United they did things to their music that made them soar over everything I’ve ever heard. And the songwriting! I could write pages on just the songwriting. Add to how that works with the music, and how amazing the music itself is… I could write a whole book. The themes span love, heroism, redemption, remorse, and a host of others, with references to World War Two and wars in general. It’s the talk about the wars that give it an extra layer. There’s such a story in the music. Listen all the way through the album; you’ll find hints of it in the lyrics, since it’s not a concept album, but you’ll hear in it in the music. I can’t say exactly how. Each song begins and ends like how chapters in novels begin and end; just the right tone, just the right place. It leaves me spellbound every time. This is a sonical odyssey.

Suburba (that's how they spell the title) came out just a few months ago: August 2010.  And the vocals only got better. And the songwriting ventured into new territory. With the classic rock came a focus on youth and suburban America. And my, oh my, does it take your breath away. Gorgeous renditions in “Relentless” the first track, of a boy running wild in the suburbs; “God Save The Foolish Kings”, a gang preparing for a fight and looking for purpose; “Disappear”, a dark, driving reflection on mortality… you have to listen all the way through the album here. Even though, for this and the last album, any track will have you hooked on its own.

Oh! This barely scratches the surface of what I could tell you about this band. But I am a college student, and finals near; I’ve already taken too much time to tell you this much. Let me leave you with a music video for the band’s top single from The End Is Not The End: “In The Valley Of The Dying Sun”.