In Ken Russell’s Altered States, protagonist Dr. Edward Jessup’s psychedelic exploration of his psyche culminates into his physical mutation into a self-sufficient, antimatteral being of the most innately alive of the organs: flesh. His appearance in this form may be warped and inhuman at a glance, but his embrace of the hairless flesh most commonly associated with homo sapiens makes his transformed state a distinctly humanoid one. Was he not conducting his experiments for a deeper understanding of human consciousness in the first place? His research ultimately draws a dark conclusion: that mankind is an innately selfish race. In his superhuman form he reaches the peak of individualism—he needs no support to exist, and no one is capable of doing so unless they, too, want to give up Earth’s realities and join him in his subconscious realm, a realm dangerously leaking into the real world. He transcends his humanity by embracing what makes him most human. Jessup would have let this physical representation of his ego take over, too, if he hadn’t kept enough self awareness to save his wife from the same forces. Empathy to the rescue.
Of course, self exploration, whether done hallucinogenicly or sober, is not inherently bad. In many situations, it can catalyze positive internal change that can be reflected onto the surrounding world. But one must be wary that one’s retreats into the self do not manifest degenerative delusion.
Sadly, it seems that our current generation is not being taught values similar to those that ultimately saved Jessup. He still kept a grip on reality even when his curious mind sucked him into the monkey man microscope screen warp speed world of his subconscious. Today’s world, on the other hand, offers no escape from the epilepsy inducing acid flashback that is pop culture. Deeply rooted traditions of primal self satisfaction—earlier in the film, Jessup regresses to an apelike state before embarking on a rampage, a friendly reminder of how we, too, are nothing more than animals—are not changed, but encouraged. From birth, we are bombarded by unregulated flashing images, exaggerated facial expressions and cartoon realities, infinite streams of worthless matter lurking behind clickbait headlines. Political pundits and their battles become increasingly caricatured, turning nightly news into WWE. Nothing really matters, except for the hyperactive manchild’s exploitation of the child’s feeble mind. As long as you think the junk food you’re guzzling tastes good (or you don’t mind the side effects), alles ist gut.
Maybe we are all still children in some respects, still trying to process information and make sense of the insanity swirling around us. Most, however, question not what they see, staying on whatever the “correct” track is as dictated by meaningless societal trends or whatever makes them feel more self righteous. And considering the bust bum brainwash world we live in, where facts are opinions and lies reap in the profit, the consequences of such complacency are too often detrimental to those with their heads in the right space.
Absurdity reigns, so what should we do about it? Embrace it. One does not silence another by cowering and covering their ears. Much like how sustainable forms of energy begrudgingly coexist with fossil fuels, not all noise is pollution. Use it to your advantage. Submit your social commentary under the covers; weave double entendres into your speeches; force the world to grab that dinged-up shovel and start digging, because there’s a lot left to uncover, and it might just be worth your time.
Cope
Sunday, August 14th, 2022I’m leaving for college Friday. All the finishing touches are being put on my departure, and the gravity is only now truly setting in. It’s overwhelming to think about sometimes. Not really terrifying, just overwhelming. Overwhelming in the way that thinking too much about something makes you feel, until you think too much some more and realize the workload is totally tolerable. It’s kind of annoying.
The Melvins have been the soundtrack to this pre-collegiate angst ever since I saw them over a month ago, and I assume they’ll still be there to help me through my post-pre-collegiate angst. Looking back, that show feels like it was the equivalent of stumbling into a church only to encounter a fire-and-brimstone preacher’s most imposing sermon and becoming a hardcore Christian on the spot out of fear and awe. To put it lightly, I’m hooked. It’s simple, really: I like things that go against things I don’t like, the list of which includes genre trappings, banality, the lack of a sense of humor, hypersensitivity, and stupidity. All of these things are incredibly overbearing, which makes it all the more satisfying to find a driving force of subversive defiance to those norms. Like the Melvins.
Looking at groups like DEVO and the Melvins feels like looking at a beacon calling forth all the boys and girls who are fed up with straight society and crave more than what it gives. Call me a moth to a flame, then—a calculated moth to a calculated flame, that is. I’m a freethinker, and I’m not into pledging blind allegiance. Following things mindlessly sets people up for failure. I say follow things that make you think. The Melvins make you think because one’s brain is constantly trying to decipher what the hell King Buzzo is singing whenever you listen to ‘em. Or sometimes I’ll find myself listening to a song (sometimes by the Melvins, sometimes by someone else) and questioning how their label let them release it in the first place or how it is even permitted to exist. Who green lights “Skin Horse”? Who? Seriously. This is no diss; I love that song. But on every listen, the perfection of its warped, tragic, alienating strain of insanity seems too good to be true. But it is true, and it’s concrete, and it feels very special to see.
Looking at the big picture, I don’t think that yesterday’s and today’s…what’s a good term…creative terrorists get the credit they deserve for their sheer bravery. Thanks to efforts like theirs, people like me get to hear things that tap into a very vital, rare, primal vein that satisfies many good, weird criteria. People are more pent up and frustrated than ever. And the things many of these people have always wanted to express but were too scared to, might just get belted into microphones by punk rock priests at sold out shows. Things like this encourage me to keep on marching. I wouldn’t be setting up for the real world with confidence without taking those influences with me.
Tags:art, college, creative terrorism, media commentary, Melvins, music, things I enjoy
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