reaction to the post-american meme
Nick Currie (aka Momus) has a very interesting series of posts on Click Opera recently about the state of being post-American. It was sort of a relief to read his well-articulated description of this situation, of being American but being over America at the same time, as I have been struggling with how to describe this in myself.
Nick quotes some neo-con Mark Krikorian in the National Review pejoratively describing the post-American as someone who "may actually still like America, but the emotion resembles the attachment one might feel to, say, suburban New Jersey." I'd make an amendment to that statement: it's not like the feeling one might have for suburban New Jersey, the situation is more akin to the feelings one might have for a retarded uncle. He's a schizoid semi-suicidal nincompoop but you have to see him at breakfast in the morning and deal with the insanity he shoves in your face. Ignoring him isn't an option because he's so loud and sort of dangerous, nor is dialog, which would require a level of intelligence that is just simply not present. So you cope. That's how I feel being back here, as though I am coping with America, my dear retarded uncle.
But at the same time, that is America in the generalized sense, and while totally accurate, it loses sight of the dots of beauty that are here. The local islands of relative sanity are very special as well. After returning from Berlin, it was such a pleasure to spend the afternoon with my friend Heather Heise bowing and scraping percussion instruments, making strange breathing sounds with her accordion, recording it all for a theater project she is working on as well as our own duo project. I have this amazing collection of sounds to play with now, and that's how I'm spending the rest of my day today. I love the community of people here in California who are wide-eyed and experimental and maverick in their thinking.
Or another example of what is great about this place, spending yesterday with Lee rummaging through the countless bins of music at Amoeba records, afterwards having very nice draft Belgian beers at Toronado in the lower Haight, where they seem to always be playing Rush's 2112 album. These are the things that make it OK, these are the kinds of people and places that exist here and possibly nowhere else that make this a magical place to be as well.
I think it takes a focus on the local to survive in America today. If one looks at the big picture, as any sane person should, it's a grim if not depressing sight. The future outlook for this country is not a good one, and the present is pretty awful as well. The general culture of the USA is caught in a downward spiral of greedy, bitter, insecure, childish, hedonistic, and ultimately suicidal paranoia. After three weeks in Berlin there's nothing I'd love more than to hop the next KLM flight and plant myself right back in Mitte, never to leave again, to be free from this place. But I can't, not yet anyway. What I can do is find those things that I love here in San Francisco, and join in with them and help them become even better, hoping somehow that it makes a difference. There is a lot to be said for leaving what you hate to find the place that speaks deeply to you, but sometimes sizing up the reality of the place where you are, and figuring out how you fit in and how you can improve it, while exhausting and frustrating, can be extremely rewarding as well in a very different sometimes surprising way.
Comments
I like your dear retarded uncle analogy because it captures a sense of that residual responsibility I feel. I'm in a similarly post-American boat (I've been following Click Opera for a while and Momus's post on the topic definitely struck a chord) -- I'm in the process of obtaining dual citizenship and while I do love life in California the more I read about what's going on in the upper echelons of the government, the more anxious I am to leave. At the same time, I can't help but feel that I do have some sort of responsibility to the rest of the world to stay here, or to try to do my part to turn the downward spiral around. This is /my/ retarded uncle, after all. He'll listen to me more than he will anyone outside the family.
So I'm happy to stay here and stay engaged and to keep the dialogue going for as long as possible. We still have some civil liberties available to us, no?
Posted by: Siona | March 13, 2006 1:26 PM
Yes, it's that residual responsibility that is so frustrating. I think this is why, when I read Momus' blog, his mention that most of the young people he speaks to are planning to leave the country I feel just a tiny bit sad. And I completely agree with these people who are leaving, it's better for their own sanity to just put the retarded uncle in a home and let him drool away the days. They should escape, we all should escape! But if there is any chance at all that things might be improved, those chances are completely dashed if the brightest most creative young people are all already gone.
Well, I do wish you the best of luck in obtaining your dual citizenship. It's something I've been working on for a few years with little success so far, but I see that part of the problem was that I was trying to get it in two of the most restrictive countries for non-married immigrants: the Netherlands and Japan. Germany, now, that's a different story...
Posted by: roddy | March 13, 2006 1:41 PM
The thing is, I know you're right Nathan. In my heart of hearts, I know you're exactly right and I know what I should do. But in the past when I lived as an expat, in Tokyo and Holland, my priorities were a bit different and I was childish and just wanted to flip around to wherever I could land on my feet.
Now to move is a serious thing for me, because I want to do it right, and not be so poor that I can't afford a warm enough jacket for the Dutch winter, and so on. But I know that sticking with a culture which is abusive and unappreciative is a sure sign of co-dependent fucked-up-edness. So, it's just a matter of time until I say goodbye to America, I just want to do it with confidence this time. But you know, family ties run deep in the south...
Posted by: roddy | March 13, 2006 4:22 PM
My father is Dutch; I'd be foolish not to leap at the opportunity. But thanks for the well-wishes.
Another part of the reason I'm ambivalent about leaving is similar to yours. I want my eventual ex-pat status to be a positive choice. I want to move out of the US because I'm curious and excited about committing to something different, not because I feel I can no longer call this place home. So I understand your interest in moving "with confidence."
Too, it's more than sadness I feel about (other) young people who want to escape the US. I can't help but feel a little fear and a little worry. Right now, American (foreign) policy affects the citizens of other countries more so than it does those people who live within. It's impossible to escape the effects of the American administration -- our government and military is so dangerously bloated with power that any changes (for positive or negative) can't help but reverberate elsewhere. Leaving the US just amounts to relinquishing any direct power we might have.
Posted by: Siona | March 13, 2006 10:40 PM
rod sez:
>we all should escape! But if there is any chance at all that things might be improved, those chances are completely dashed if the brightest most creative young people are all already gone.
>when I lived as an expat, in Tokyo and Holland, my priorities were a bit different and I was childish and just wanted to flip around to wherever I could land on my feet.
and i say: the end of this rant from a while back speaks to some of the things you bring up.
http://glitchslaptko.blogspot.com/2004/11/this-and-that-part-1.html
Posted by: r. | March 14, 2006 5:30 PM
r., I miss essays like this, that are always on the verge of clarity but still just out of reach of understanding. I do think the things you're saying are related though. My utopia is a flat in Antwerp and steady gigs in Berlin. Your utopia is... Japan? Tokyo? Have you given up on utopias yet?
Posted by: roddy | March 15, 2006 11:40 AM
Siona said:
>Leaving the US just amounts to relinquishing any direct power we >might have.
Yeah, that's the part that bothers me as well. I appreciate Nathan's answer, of providing an example for others to escape, but at the same time, there is something said for trying to affect change where you live. But it seems like a battle that will ultimately end in frustration.
Posted by: roddy | March 15, 2006 11:42 AM
But that's the beauty of it . . . there is no escape. I don't see the political situation in the US as separable from the rest of the world. Going somewhere else just leads to a different set of compromises and conditionals. I think as long as one realizes this, and understands that the notion of 'escape' is a pernicious a trap as any, then it's okay to go elsewhere.
It's telling, I think, that the etymological origin of utopia is "no place" (ou- not or no, and topos- place).
But I think I'm straying off topic. I'm verging into the borderlines of metaphysics - we're all connected! it's one great system - and politics, and perhaps I'm losing site of the fact that is it possible to be an agent of change.
Posted by: Siona | March 16, 2006 2:01 PM
>Going somewhere else just leads to a different set of >compromises and conditionals.
I agree, I don't think it really is impossible to escape in a complete way. But at the same time I think there are some sets of conditionals and compromises that fit me better than others, and the ones I have to deal with in the United States don't fit me as well as the ones I'd have to deal with, say, in Berlin. It's hard for me to not see it just from a personal perspective.
Posted by: roddy | March 16, 2006 2:48 PM
"It's hard for me to not see it just from a personal perspective."
Thank goodness. And what's the difference, anyway? I gag a little every time I say this - it sounds so trite and cloying - but being true to yourself and acknowedging your own integrity is the most radically political action you can take. Especially - especially! - now.
Posted by: Siona | March 16, 2006 5:22 PM
you know, political metaphysics and the gambit of being an agent of change is JUST like that song by kenny rogers:
You got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you’re sittin’ at the table.
There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.
momus decided to run.
roddy decided (for the moment) to hold 'em.
i folded.
and the funny part is, none of us will live long enough to see if our bluffs will be called.
ha, ha.
Posted by: r. | March 16, 2006 9:44 PM
ha ha indeed! i think i'm getting an existential headache...
Posted by: roddy | March 16, 2006 11:53 PM
that's what it is all about!
Posted by: r. | March 17, 2006 1:24 AM
Toronado is amazing, especially since Rosamunde lets you bring food over! I am a huge fan of the Weissbiers. I have been messing with ipod linux recording option, very neat, you can even use yr. headphones. I found an old Yamataka eye/SY recording at Amoeba labelled Kontakte (no, it wasnt though). Welcome back!
Posted by: david Holl | March 17, 2006 6:38 PM
Hi David, I'm a Weissbier fan myself, especially Kristall, enjoyed it in Germany quite a bit.
Posted by: roddy | March 20, 2006 11:32 AM
i'm still waiting on big kudos for my k. rogers ref. (but i'm drinking suntory 'hakushu' single malt now, so i can wait you out...)
Posted by: r. | March 21, 2006 9:03 AM
nathan, your point is well taken.
Posted by: roddy | March 21, 2006 8:25 PM