Punk Rock, Thoreau, and Learning

My favorite Punk band of all time is Bad Religion. They are always blunt and forward with their social and political critiques and always attempt to provoke their listeners in an intelligent fashion. In their song, "21st Century Digital Boy," their lead singer, Greg Graffin, sings, "I'm a 21st century digital boy/ I don't know how to read but I've got a lot of toys." The underlying sentiment of these lines mirrors precisely what Thoreau gets across when he states the following: "As with our colleges, so with a hundred 'modern improvements,' there is an illusion about them... Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention away from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end." Thoreau is again commenting on misplaced priorities in society. Engagement with the natural world and all it has to offer for our self betterment become more and more distant in a society which is becoming increasingly concerned with materialism and artificial advancements. His comment about colleges touches upon how education started to become more and more standardized, as with most things in a capitalist society, leading to personalized approaches to happiness becoming more distant. He is aware of the fact that society offers too many petty distractions from our quests of self improvement; the Bad Religion song reflects this awareness as well. Today's climate exacerbates these social ailments when we have flashing billboards encouraging useless consumption; countless influences glittered with gaudy lights beg us mercilessly for our attention so we will fail to look inward, instead, at the emptiness which will one day present itself to us.

Longing and Simplicity

Thoreau's most commonly reiterated point is the value of leading a simple life. He has tremendous faith in the notion that an individual who leads a simplistic life will be the one to garner the most contentment. He claims that "There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature, and has his senses still." I love how Thoreau capitalizes "Nature," as if it is has a signature persona all its own with personified qualities of generosity and pacifism. He can proudly say, "I have never felt lonesome, or in the least oppressed by a sense of solitude."

I used to remember longing so badly for Thoreau's admirable sense of calm and collectivity. When I lived in New York, I tried my hardest to reach some semblance of peace from my loneliness but was never able to do so until the day I moved to California. In asking, "Can we not do without the society of our gossips a little while under these circumstances,--have our own thoughts to cheer us?" Thoreau critiques the commonness of everyone seeking pleasure and stimulation from external sources. The most valuable skill to acquire is the ability to be at peace with one's solitude, for in life, you really only have yourself. It's the most difficult ability to achieve but the most helpful because it will give you a sense of fulfillment in being able to produce a sense of belonging from directly within yourself.

Thoreau and Real Education

It's amusing for me to think about the correlations I see between Thoreau's gripes with society and the complaints I had about prep school. In Walden, Thoreau poses a question which reminds me of the Mark Twain quote, "I never let school interfere with my education." Thoreau's question is, "What is a course of history or philosophy, or poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of always looking at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer?" I see a correlation between the two quotes because both imply the value of acquiring knowledge through life experience and practical applications of one's experiences, rather than solely absorbing institutionalized education which often contradicts personal gratification. Back in New York, I was continually ostracized by students and administrators for poking holes at the information which my school wanted to hardwire into my mind. Thoreau boldly asks, "Why should we leave it to Harper and Brothers and Redding & Co. to select our reading?" I respect his posing of this question because it is not up for the institutions and media conglomerates to which we submit ourselves to decide for us what information we should take in; it is up to us to navigate through the variety of portals we have at our fingertips to discern what has bearing on our lives.

On a related point, I've always been an advocator of healthy provocation to simply reinforce the notion that one's thoughts can always be refined. Thoreau notes that "We boast that we belong to the nineteenth century, and we are making the most rapid strides of any nation. But consider how this little village does for its own culture. I do not wish to flatter my townsmen, nor to be flattered by them, for that will not advance either of us. We need to be provoked--." Healthy provocation, when exercised efficiently, is the key to breaking the delusions in which people live. While there is no doubt that our society has made extraordinary advancements socially, politically, and economically throughout history, the recent Wall Street crash was partially a result of people who got too comfortable abusing their privileges. Getting too settled into one's comfort zone can be dangerous, and to provoke is to send a genuine reminder that change is constant and we must embrace it to progress.

Excursions.

In my International Relations class we were studying "heroes" of the Realist and Liberalist realms of IR theory. I found particularly interesting the section on how Nixon and Kissinger worked diligently to improve US/USSR relations during their term. I guess what I found interesting was how Nixon and Kissinger were quintessential "realists" in every political sense: calculating, Manichean, striving for a unipolar world in which America prevailed leaving everyone else to eat our superior, capitalist dust. Yet, they were being quintessential Liberals in deciding to reach out through use of dialogue and overarching global institutions for a more peaceful world. This is a seemingly random anecdote from an otherwise subpar class, but lest I forget my point - I think I always find it fascinating to watch people explore other versions of themselves. I'm always intrigued when people decide to challenge their traditional way of conducting themselves - it almost always is conducive to learning and profound personal growth.

(Leaving Nixon aside, who clearly had a ton to learn, thus undermining my argument, let us move forward and make some more relevant parallels.)

I think the best human relationships are those where you discover parts of yourself that you didn't know existed. Whether you like what you discover or loathe these newfound qualities, they are still fibers, good or bad, which compose the person you are. The more you uncover about yourself, the more learning opportunities are presented before your eyes to seize vigorously in hopes of improving your life. I've come to discover that there exist certain relationships where both partners can be so remarkably similar, so much so that talking to the other person can be like talking to yourself. This can be so useful because I've found, in my own life, that engaging in somewhat of a "mental dialogue" with myself is the best way to work out problems or extrapolate certain issues to their logical conclusions. A healthy relationship can be a portal through which to accomplish this every second of the day, consciously and subconsciously. I really think that the best relationships put you at such ease that you may not even notice yourself shifting from your traditional self into a more creative, thoughtful, more observant version of you until the mutual benefits are reaped. I suppose this idea of transformation truly enamors me. I always knew that people had the potential to change for the worse. It always scared me. It's nice to remember that people can also change for the better, too.

Imagination

Thoreau had heard many stories about the bottom of Walden Pond, or rather, the lack thereof, and had to see for himself. His reasoning for doing so can be deciphered from his statement, "It is remarkable how long men will believe in the bottomlessness of a pond without taking the trouble to sound it." This thought process is beautiful because it's a metaphor for so many beliefs that humankind possesses regarding infinite versus finite means. The "bottomlessness of a pond" to which he refers could be replaced with the concept of natural resources in today's world, such as oil and other amenities that we have endlessly been consuming. Now, we are faced with the realistic fact that the road of consumption has an imminent dead end.

He discovers that the maximum depth of the water was approximately one hundred seven feet. Astounded at how remarkable a depth this is for such a small looking area, he poses the question, "What if all ponds were shallow? Would it not react on the minds of men? I am thankful that this pond was made deep and pure for a symbol. While men believe in the infinite, some ponds will be thought to be bottomless." Thoreau is remarking upon two things here. Firstly, he realizes the unflinching belief of mankind that things are everlasting. From the notion of the afterlife to the consumption practices mentioned earlier, it would be much more practical to go about something with the mindset that nothing lasts forever, or that all good things must come to an end. Secondly, albeit slightly contrary to the first point, he is remarking upon the infinite capabilities of people to achieve great things. Even though our resources are finite, our imagination is infinite.