A Monkey's Manifesto

Firstly, here's my thoughts on The Velvet Underground song "Oh Sweet Nuthin" (it comes in to play - you'll see):

Why mince words?

"Oh Sweet Nuthin" is one of the few songs that I think of as an anthem in my life (the other songs are "Like A Rolling Stone" by Dylan, "And All That Could Have Been" by NIN, "Waiting for My Real Life to Begin" by Colin Hay and "Do You Realize?" by Flaming Lips - maybe not the most optimistic or happy collection of songs).

When I first heard it (roughly a year before High Fidelity came out - so I got to geek out in theaters to it), the song just struck a chord in me. It's basically, on a lyrical level, one of the most depressing songs. People get ripped off, dropped off, forgotten, left behind, and broken. It's a testament to the broken heart, the dashed dreams, and the mean realities that rip us a part. That song is the essence of sadness. The only problem is - no one told the Velvet Underground that. It's played with such joy, such revery, and it becomes a celebration. VU is celebrating the fact that we all get shit on. That we live amongst cannibals, and phonies, and hustlers of spirit - but that never stops us.

"The Bed" on Reed's second solo album Berlin, is truly the examination of the price of a painful and depressing life, one mired in a pessimistic swamp that seems intent on not allowing for any joy or any reflections on brighter times.

That is not "Oh Sweet Nuthin". It's the song of that smug loser. It's the song of the man who brushes himself off, smiles at the Guy who beat him, and just walks on. It's the song of Cool Hand Luke (and therefore, I guess the song of Jesus?). It's that moment of transcendence, when someone steps out, laughs at how absurdly harsh everything can be, and just keeps on.
And (like the good English Major I am) there's textual evidence of this:

Say a word for Polly May
She can't tell the night from the day
They threw her out in the street
But just like a cat she landed on her feet
And say a word for Joanna Love
She ain't got nothing at all
'Cos everyday she falls in love
And everynight she falls when she does

Joanna Love never stops, never gives up on love; she falls in love, falls into beds, and continues on. Polly May hit that street, but was still ready to pounce and keep goin. Reed's lyrics don't sugar coat what life is. Life sucks. But you don't cash in your chips. You play the next hand. Cuz while Life may be Horrible and a lot of Awkward Unfunny Pratfalls, it keeps goin on. You'll get another chance, you'll survive this, and who knows? Maybe one day you'll actually catch a whale.

And it's also perfect as the last song for the Velvet Underground (yes, they released live albums, unreleased B-sides, and had a rather poorly devised reunion tour - but this was their last real studio album). It was a band famous for infighting, drug problems, ego maniacs, a pregnant drummer, a complete lack of awareness by all but the truly hip. It was a band marked by a bunch of ups and downs, with a lot less ups than downs (they wouldn't be recognized, revered, and canonized for many many years later - and having sex with Nico couldn't really have been that great). But the note they left on, their most perfectly straightforward pop album, still belies this darkness and sadness. And this song implies that the bad times didn't go away just cuz Lonesome Cowboy Bill is riding like a fool - they're there. They'll always be there.

But the Velvet Underground, and the fanatics of "Oh Sweet Nuthin", are ready to greet these dark and uncertain moments with a grin and a joke, wiping off their backs, and preparing for whatever will come next.

After sending this to my Obi-Wan (brilliant impassioned teacher who's also a good friend, and whose ghost will haunt me for lightyears to come), she jokingly said that I was a nihilist, and she wanted to see where these dark feelings came from (all in a sweet and nice manner, mind you). I get that a lot. That I'm a nihilist, an atheist, a godless heathen. Well, here's my response, and I think, it's kind of my manifesto in life. It's how I describe myself - a Cynical Romantic.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Cool Hand Luke, Wonder Boys, Modern Times, Annie Hall, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Breathless (original), Brazil, Rushmore, The Fisher King, Unforgiven, The Royal Tenenbaums, and pretty much any Sam Peckinpah movie. These are all movies that show this ugly and raw side of life. They show how harsh and depressing everything can be, and how often fantasy and dreams fail our real selves. But they are all done with a smirk, a smile, a joke, a moment of acting out, and they all feature protagonists that try for greatness despite the insurmountable odds. And they're never heroes, they're just dreamers who decide "fuck it" and just go for it in some capacity or another. It's that quixotic quality. Don Quixote is so depressing because essentially he's a demented man who wishes to escape life and finds himself creating a much better world than the one he's in. He's admirable for his dreams and desires and ambition and nobility, but also tragic because it's about a man's failure to cope with the world. It's that delicious layer cake of comedy, heroics, tragedy, and futility. And the people who dig that type of a story - Romantics, Dreamers, Hedonists - are people who know the sweet matches the sour. It's that line from Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins:

“Salvation is for the feeble, that’s what I think. I don’t want salvation, I want life, all of life, the miserable as well as the superb. If the gods would tax ecstasy, then I shall pay; however, I shall protest their taxes at each opportunity, and if Woden or Shiva or Buddha or that Christian fellow--what’s his name?--cannot respect that, then I’ll accept their wrath. At least I will have tasted the banquet that they have spread before me on this rich, round planet, rather than recoiling from it like a toothless bunny. I cannot believe that the most delicious things were placed here merely to test us, to tempt us, to make it the more difficult for us to capture the grand prize: the safety of the void. To fashion of life such a petty game is unworthy of both men and gods.”
I'm not a nihilist. I think of myself as a Cynical Romantic. I want nothing but the best in the world, for myself and my friends. I want to fall in love, and do incredible things. I want to be known in the places people go to be forgotten. I want to leave footprints on a land no one else has seen. I want to tell stories that end in scars & laughter. I want to be able to entertain any idea or thought without ridicule or judgment. And I believe all of these things are possible. I believe in superheroes and unknown dimensions and that adventure is literally a block ahead of me at all times, and maybe just once I'll come face to face with it.

But with all of these wants and desires exists the cynical truth of my days. The lies, shortcomings, and cruel realities that are always present. The Government. My job. My appearance. The world around me. The sad fate of my friends. My stillborn future. The lack of real glimmers of hope in my heart. These two things clash inside of me. It's like magical tragedy. Cuz in my head there are fantastic vistas and creations and worlds being born every second. But in my life, it's the same old same old, and i feel the noose tightening.

My favorite quote from one of my favorite films of last year, Me & You & Everyone We Know (which also belongs on the list above and which you should definitely see), is:

"I don't want to have to do this living. I just walk around. I want to be swept off my feet, you know? I want my children to have magical powers. I am prepared for amazing things to happen. I can handle it. "

I just think it's so appropos. And i also don't think I'm the only one that feels this way. I think most of my generation feels betrayed right now. We were promised an amazing future full of flying cars and exploration and wondrous possibilities. And instead we find dead end day jobs and compromised values. I'm sure it's nothing new and that every generation feels that way, and this feeling is just an extension of my generation's narcissism. But that's how I view myself and my life. And i could go into all of the shortcomings, defeats, embarrasments, letdowns, and abuses I've suffered in my life to make me seem hardened and misanthropic. But there's no reason for it - nothing truly original. And in the end - i'm not really misanthropic, just guarded. And I can't wait for the day to come, for the world shattering event to take place, where I can open my gates, smile wide, and let everyone in.

Maybe some of y'all feel the same way. Dunno.