Chapter 3 - The Funny Phonies and the Freaks - Forward

Arguably Roady's most sophisticated, scornful and fictional work to date.

Big city means diversity.

This simple truism is not solely intended at making a pompous start to this account of a week-end in one of the only places in the world where, reportedly, everything seems to be happening. The underlying logic of this statement is that diversity, be it social, ethnic or cultural, implies possibility, opportunity, and why not, in certain cases, freedom. Let us assume, at least for now, that you can indeed be anything you want to be, when the time and place are right. Suppose you are a capable educated adult seeing the vast world as your oyster. You base your choices on the environment around you. Of all those possible choices, one, here, is of particular interest. You can choose to have a roller-coaster ride throughout your frail existence - which is, after all nought but a frivolous moment, lost in the infinity of time. Go with the flow and don't think about the short and long-term consequences. Or you can can chose to take a step back and remove the blinkers from your eyes.¹

This implies saying “no” to various things that should not be tolerated - some of which, religious bigots are arguing, will precipitate mankind into an eternity of fire and brimstone. The list of those things is rather long and has been discussed and placarded on many occasions ever since the 1950s came to an end, so I will not go into details. There is, of course, no clear-cut consensus on what should not be, save, perhaps all that is regulated by the almighty forces of the free-wheeling market. Money is a media. It is a promise of payment for goods or services with no intrinsic value – although I am sure some eccentric billionaires use banknotes to wipe their arses. It is immaterial; it does not exist.² Hence the following law: all cultural productions that strive to make money, especially in vast amounts, are, de facto, false.

Perhaps only the clothing of this equation will sound vaguely new to those reading this. Still, it is worth clarifying for the purpose of this digression. This broad consensus, then, implies rejecting mass culture, which is force-fed down the happy throats of the multitude without vomiting anything, so that a select few can have a few Ferraris to play with, unlimited supplies of cocaine to snort or have pictures of their recently-enlarged breasts published in tabloids. What is left, then, can be called “counter-culture” or “alternative culture”.

But herein lies another pitfall: what if what remains might also be contaminated by the evil forces of the market? The judgemental faculties of those who have chosen are confronted to the problem of deciding whether their culture is pristine enough to be embraced. Those who have chosen, then, arrive at another crossroad, where they can either move forward or take another step back. But this time, the decision rests on a lot more factors than just discerning what is driven by money and what isn't. Because I am getting seriously tired with this dissertation, I will not attempt to survey and discuss these factors. There is however one particular sin I believe is worthy of note for the rest of this account, which is – forgive me if this sounds ironic - taking oneself too seriously. 

1At this point, any philosopher, cultural theorist or social scientist worth his or her salt would rightfully accuse me of reducing the complexity of the problem to a gross dichotomy. I hope this will give them a chance to write fascinating books in the near future.

2Go on, do your worst.

Copyright by Roady, 2011