lubiddu: Blackamazon is too much: lubiddu: Blackamazon is too much: Curiosity blackamazon: I have…

lubiddu:

Blackamazon is too much: lubiddu: Blackamazon is too much: Curiosity blackamazon: I have to…

lubiddu:

Blackamazon is too much: Curiosity

blackamazon:

I have to find the post but someone in the Beastie Boys discussion posted a GOLDEn part about incuriousness that made me think.

Why is it ( gross generalization here) that so many of our liberal folk are so incurious?

And…

That’s it exactly….if you love something, if it spoke to you, if it got you RIGHT THERE…why wouldn’t you have explored it? Found out more? Run to the edge of town/ends of the earth? Especially now, with the internet at your fingertips?

I just….you gotta understand. I don’t come from NYC. I come from Bum Fuck Nowhere, Rust Belt Illinois. The kind of place the chatting classes call “flyover country” in that damning, (un)ironic way. And yet…people where I’m from still did this, even back when it wasn’t so effortless to do so. Back when more physical work went into discovery. Face time. Road trips. Finding the others who loved what you did. Building community. Leading each other down paths maybe you wouldn’t have otherwise. Frankly, that’s why I’m on the ‘net, for that same spirit of adventure, that discovery, the chase. Gives me the same charge I got as a kid; going new places, seeing new things, meeting new people. I’ll never get tired of that.

So, it mystifies me too, this truncating of this natural thirst for discovery. What or whom is this serving? To cut oneself off from (what I can only consider as) the flow of life?

And I can’t help but think how this thought pattern relates to the dominant pattern of cultural production in the US. How culture is supposed to be something (a) produced elsewhere, (b) for a profit, and (c) consumed. Consumed rather than loved. The distinction is pertinent. See, the common thread in hip-hop and punk (and even rock and roll, before it became corporate “rock”) was always the DIY ethos. The idea that you didn’t have to be a pro to produce it or enjoy it. That the spirit is what counted. That you learned as you went along; learned by doing and living and breathing it. That it was intrinsic to the rest of you, not separate or compartmentalized. That it evolved as you did. It was communal, not prepackaged in individual servings. How could you not seek that out? Whether through road trips or mix tapes or late nights with your headphones on? Digging through crates or combing through magazine racks or getting/making zines advertized in the backs of independent rags written by other folks with too much love for the culture?

I dunno. People seem to stay in their place now more than they used to. Travel more, but their *minds* stay in the same place. I have these convos with my dad a lot; he agrees, but overestimates the influence of technology (and underestimates the influenced of centralized media control, IMO).

relevant and important

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