You can't dance like that. Oh hey, Wonkers! Are you ready to have a new weekly feature crammed in your face by your loving Wonkette? Good, because it's happening. SO! Dok writes his nerd thing for all YOU NERDS, but where Evan (me) is concerned, it's all about music. So! On Wednesdays we will tell you about something fun or great or hilarious related to music! Like
To understand the whole peace, love and nonviolence thing in the 1960s, you have to understand the cultural and historical milieu that it emerged from. At the time it was a very radical stance and also a bid for sanity.
Think about what had transpired in the previous five decades. World War II wasn't some remote event that you read about in history books - it had just happened. I repeat: It. Had. Just. Happened. Unimaginable slaughter on an unprecedented scale taking place in practically every corner of the planet. Industrialized genocide. Nuclear devices that weren't some theoretical strategic option, but had actually been *used* goddammit on a civilian population. All within immediate memory. There was a whole generation of people in early adulthood walking around who had just been through all that.
And since two world wars had broken out in the past fifty years, everyone assumed (and feared) that a third one was inevitable. It wasn't a matter of whether but when. And this time it would be nuclear. If you can, pick up a copy of John Hersey's book Hiroshima. Much of it is compiled from interviews with survivors of the attack, just a couple of years after it took place. Read what it is like to be attacked with nuclear weapons in the words of people who actually experienced that. Keep a wastebasket nearby when you do, because reading it will literally make you sick. Especially when you read about the babies.
The 1950s, the Eisenhower years, wasn't all Happy Days. Culturally it was much coarser and more challenging than people remember now. Look at Trump's and Cruz's supporters today. Now imagine a whole society full of people just like them, only with less self-restraint. That was the norm, and it enjoyed majority approval. Basically your social standing was dependent upon how much of a dick bully you were to anyone perceived as weaker than you. This was what you were taught as a kid, not by the toughs in the alley but by your adult role models and responsible authorities. A certain level of belligerence was the norm.
In that atmosphere and environment a few people started saying enough of this crap. It's stupid and useless and I'm not gonna do it. I am tired of fighting all the time. I am not accepting this world as a given anymore. I refuse to participate in it. I am not playing that game anymore. I am walking away.
You could get the crap beat out of you simply for saying that. And quite a few of us did. It took courage, it took balls, to stop fighting.
I may not ever grow to like Dylan's music, but I have to say that was compelling. That's an awesome description of the hippies, and probably explains why so many of my fellow disaffected punks got along with the hippies. Most of my early years would violate the commenting rules, and just because it was for a noble cause, doesn't make it right. There are a multitude of ways to fight the man, it just took me years to realize that a raised middle finger and accoutrements may not be the best way. Cheers, and thanks for the well thought out and eloquent description.
I have never been a dancer. I don't know a single step.
I've seen '80s custom van interiors that looked more tasteful and understated than that.
To understand the whole peace, love and nonviolence thing in the 1960s, you have to understand the cultural and historical milieu that it emerged from. At the time it was a very radical stance and also a bid for sanity.
Think about what had transpired in the previous five decades. World War II wasn't some remote event that you read about in history books - it had just happened. I repeat: It. Had. Just. Happened. Unimaginable slaughter on an unprecedented scale taking place in practically every corner of the planet. Industrialized genocide. Nuclear devices that weren't some theoretical strategic option, but had actually been *used* goddammit on a civilian population. All within immediate memory. There was a whole generation of people in early adulthood walking around who had just been through all that.
And since two world wars had broken out in the past fifty years, everyone assumed (and feared) that a third one was inevitable. It wasn't a matter of whether but when. And this time it would be nuclear. If you can, pick up a copy of John Hersey's book Hiroshima. Much of it is compiled from interviews with survivors of the attack, just a couple of years after it took place. Read what it is like to be attacked with nuclear weapons in the words of people who actually experienced that. Keep a wastebasket nearby when you do, because reading it will literally make you sick. Especially when you read about the babies.
The 1950s, the Eisenhower years, wasn't all Happy Days. Culturally it was much coarser and more challenging than people remember now. Look at Trump's and Cruz's supporters today. Now imagine a whole society full of people just like them, only with less self-restraint. That was the norm, and it enjoyed majority approval. Basically your social standing was dependent upon how much of a dick bully you were to anyone perceived as weaker than you. This was what you were taught as a kid, not by the toughs in the alley but by your adult role models and responsible authorities. A certain level of belligerence was the norm.
In that atmosphere and environment a few people started saying enough of this crap. It's stupid and useless and I'm not gonna do it. I am tired of fighting all the time. I am not accepting this world as a given anymore. I refuse to participate in it. I am not playing that game anymore. I am walking away.
You could get the crap beat out of you simply for saying that. And quite a few of us did. It took courage, it took balls, to stop fighting.
I may not ever grow to like Dylan's music, but I have to say that was compelling. That's an awesome description of the hippies, and probably explains why so many of my fellow disaffected punks got along with the hippies. Most of my early years would violate the commenting rules, and just because it was for a noble cause, doesn't make it right. There are a multitude of ways to fight the man, it just took me years to realize that a raised middle finger and accoutrements may not be the best way. Cheers, and thanks for the well thought out and eloquent description.
♫ I don't dance... don't ask me... ♫
Maybe, but I will probably be in the right place at the wrong time
Or a smoothly swaying president. Hips don't lie.
Not nearly enough motorized scooters.
Aw, it must have been A Beautiful Day, Jen.
Oh, Tosca is the BEST opera because nobody is as nasty a villain as Scarpia.
Wait, there's a difference?
At least Scarpia could carry a tune.
Here's your party, anonymous Senate Republican. Have fun! https://uploads.disquscdn.c...
I can't make the March 11 concert, but how about Glasgow? Or, if you prefer, Geneva would do.
Well, shoot, and here I thought it was kind of cute and all until Gawker called it embarrassing. Since Gawker's the arbiter of All Things Cool.
Pink Martini?
https://www.youtube.com/wat...