Youth Ain’t Truth: A Rambling, Shambling Response to the Tyranny of Youth Culture
by Brad MacDonald
Part 1: “No one can stop me” – Justin Bieber
My youth is dead. I’m an elderly, crippled, wrinkled man in my late twenties. For me this basically means I do everything I did in my early twenties*, but now I feel guilty about it. Of course, I’ve felt guilty about these things in my younger days but that sense of shame was always mitigated by the idea that reckless activities were what I should be doing with my time. Disposing of a bag of rum-scented vomit in a dumpster at the far end of a Walmart parking lot just felt right when I was a spry, beardless rascal.
* this consists of but is not limited to, drinking with my friends into the wee hours of the morn and eating excessive amounts of pre-cooked roast chicken.
But what do you do when those rites of passage become rites of ritual? And, more pointedly, what do you do if you don’t necessarily want to change those rituals at the moment? When drinking beer with your friends and eating breakfast at a greasy spoon at 4am is still as incredibly fun as it always was? Some of my friends are buying houses and soon they’ll be having kids. As I currently lie in bed within my one bedroom apartment in the middle of the afternoon, I can see a banana costume in my closet that I bought for fifty dollars last October. I’m not sure what this means.
Yet, this divide isn’t so vast. In saying that I’m still restless for some means of adventure, I’m in no way implying that people who are getting married and buying houses are not driven by the same zeal (I want all of those things too). Rather I’d like to stress that what joins us together (and here I’m speaking of people in their late twenties/early thirties), is that we continue to be hungry even as we’re constantly being told, through various forms of media, that our best years are behind us. Even if we’re “settling down” according to conventional principles, most of us would never want to accept that pejorative label nor can we live without evolving in the same ways we did when we were younger. Whether our desire for adventure is fulfilled through marriage or nights of debauchery or both simultaneously (all the weddings I’ve gone to lately have been joyful shitshows of awesomeness), all of us deserve to be confident in our choices without feeling as though we’re somehow past our prime. I want to be more established and secure than I was when I was 20 but I also refuse to “settle down” beneath the feet of stampeding “Young Pioneers”.
Recently, I moved out of the McGill Ghetto. This was a long time coming given that this area is frequented by 18-year olds wearing frosh t-shirts graffitied with inscriptions like “Easy to Fuck Eric” and “Slut Whore Beastlord.” Mostly I stayed due to laziness and convenience which I guess go hand in hand. Those two really love each other and I’m happy to say that I played matchmaker. Although, a weird part of me misses the excitement of rolling out of bed and suddenly finding myself in a bathrobe in the middle of a classroom, I know that the move was good for me. Because you’ll never feel as old as when you’re surrounded by the young. The constant swarms of bright-eyed greeners I saw everyday, suddenly made me feel twice my age. As my bones became more brittle and I inexplicably found packs of Werther’s original in my pocket, these bouts of aged vulnerability escalated with a feverish rapidity, eventually culminating in debilitating mind trips like the following:
I’m a creepy old bearded man, mumbling about 19th century literature in the Ghetto’s Second Cup while my frail, shaky hands attempt in vain to pick up my green tea. To my right, the young ‘uns outside are having orgies in the middle of the street as a part of a never-ending “Youth and Beauty Festival of Sex Magic.” Naked pixies dance down the sidewalks and I swear I see one of those weird horse bodied/man head guys from Narnia. Amidst the wonderment and joy, these youths are setting fire to any elderly men or women who happen to go for a slow, mannered stroll that day. The air is pungent with the scent of old burnt flesh and Ben-Gay medicinal muscle ointment. To my left within the seemingly protective confines of the coffeeshop, I notice Easy to Fuck Eric pouring whiskey into his Red Eye (A weird espresso and coffee concoction) with a flask baring the inscription, “No Fat Chicks.” Even after looking at Eric for but a moment, I can declare with the utmost certainty that the next word he will say will be “bro.”
But I like young people. I’m sure even Eric has a good side and when he deals with his self-esteem issues maybe someday he’ll become “Will Fuck You Someday if You Treat Me with Respect…Eric.” I have the privilege of helping students as an English Teaching Assistant and it’s the best part of my degree. I absolutely love it. So the problem I’m having isn’t with young people per se but rather with the way our society increasingly looks to them for guidance. It used to be that this valourizing of “Young Pioneers”* was mostly centered on fashion or music trends but now the media has begun asking adolescents for life advice.
- Please watch this ridiculous commercial for a reflection of youth culture marketing at its most tyrannical, exploitive and ridiculous: – “Oh pioneers, young pioneers, go forth and purchase a pair of 32/32 skinny jeans or, if you’re feeling more ambitious, wild and free, a distressed pair of super skinny in a rich mustard shade. You are the future!!!!
While the Levis’ clip remains at least somewhat centered on fashion, here’s another clip I found that presents life advice from the mouths of babes. Of course by “babes,” I mean children and no, I did not originally come across this video because I’m a disgusting pervert; a link to the video popped up on the main site of a search engine, I swear. Now that that’s clear and I’m not going to prison, have a look at this:
It would be really easy to take a cheap shot here and tear this girl to shreds, but the truth is, she is acting like any other 17-year old girl would act when asked such questions. The innocuousness of her responses is to be expected because she’s fucking 17. The real problem is that the media is even taking the time to ask a 17 year old about emotional insights, particularly those involving her “regrets.” What kind of regrets would most 17 year olds have? “Most” is a critical word here: I’m excluding young people who have had catastrophic childhoods or gone through traumatic experiences, to focus on a more generalized concept of the normative 17 year old in Western culture – angst-ridden, vaguely disgruntled yet free and unfettered by real responsibilities. What kind of regrets would this girl have? Getting a pimple before the big dance? I’m sure Taylor (is this the girl from Hanson?) loves the attention she’s getting – that’s obvious – but to her credit, even she seems to be ever so slightly embarrassed by the life-oriented questions. She tries to remain cool and knowing and throws off a few devil-may-care lines with the appropriate amount of feigned world weariness but one can easily discern that she doesn’t have much to say or contribute to our lives. Taylor Momsen can’t help us with our stress, our problems, our sadness, our confusion. She’s 17. She should answer every one of those questions by simply stating her age. “Taylor, if God exists, do you think he is benevolent and kind or simply indifferent? Has he granted us freewill and, if so, will the sins we’ve committed bar us from entering the pearly gates of heaven? Will there be another belief system which will replace dying religions and rescue us from our existential ennui?” “What choices do we need to make to secure a future of emotional and financial security? “…..I’m 17.” “Ok! Radical! Isn’t that what the kids say? Thanks SO MUCH for being here, Taylor.” “No problem. Be yourself! Rock n’ roll! Jeans!”
Although I made my pretend interviewer as stupid as possible, the question of choice is an important one here given that I chose to watch this clip. As such I’m implicated in the worship of youth culture: I wouldn’t have looked if I wasn’t fascinated by the mingling of tragedy and triumph which seems to be imbued in celebrities at an ever-decreasing age and therefore one could argue that I’ve created a social issue out of my own weirdly personal Youtube habits. However, while a minor celeb like Taylor Momsen might slip under our radar, none of us really has a choice when it comes to the full frontal assault of ubiquitous young celebrities like….motherfucking Justin Bieber. I ask you: Why the hell do I even know who Justin Bieber is? Why have I heard his songs? Why have I caught myself humming “Baby” once during what may very well have been the low point of my life? Because I didn’t have a choice. Bieber is everywhere. He is in the air we breathe. He is whispering important lyrics into our ears about how social studies is tough or how he still loves that special girl despite her braces and/or retainer issues. He’s an omnipotent, dimpled Jesus with a better wardrobe (ragged, sandy linens are so out this year). He’s watching you sleep right now. That was a joke. But even if he was, he is so sterile, clean and innocent, that you wouldn’t even be bothered. I’m convinced Justin Bieber has no sexual organs and contains no sexual chemicals of any kind. All of this was removed by his team of media experts so as to eliminate any of the “messiness” that comes with young male singers growing up ie. Voice changes, sex scandals, dirty peach fuzz staches. The chemicals themselves were then given to charity as respected doctors prophesized that, if spread over the stomachs of ill children, Bieber’s purified testosterone could act as a miraculous cure all. The actual outcome?: Those kids became pregnant. With emotion. But yeah, nothing much happened.
Bieber is mass produced and available everywhere whether we like it or not. But he shouldn’t be. In a perfect world, the tweens and/or teens would have their Bieb, enjoy a grape drink from a juice box and then go to bed at 10pm. But instead, youth culture never sleeps. It’s skateboarding on your roof, it’s spray painting “Satin Lives” (An unfortunate typo) on your front door, and it’s tweeting you non-words like “Fo Sho” or WhatEVS4EVA” at all hours of the night when you have to get up early for work in the morning.* It’s all gone too far. They need a curfew and we need a night out. I’ve still got some fire in my loinal area (Sidenote: if you get an STD, please try calling it your Loinal Itchy. Thanks in advance, Brad MacDonald) and a desire for adventure and I’m not going to feel bad about it cause the media has convinced Easy to Fuck Eric that he is some kind of God.
* It’s also climbing in your windows and snatching your people up.
According to a recent interview however, the Biebs isn’t going to let this happen: “I want my world to be fun. No parents, no rules, no nothing. Like, no one can stop me. [pause for effect] No one can stop me.” A frightening quote indeed. More frightening when we take into account that the interviewer asked Bieber to envision his “ideal world.” So while we’ve got Taylor Momsen to teach us about the excruciating pain of psychological torture and regret, Bieber is holding court in a white robe teaching his disciples about Biebtopia. Furthermore, Bieber has also marketed his philosophies and life advice by WRITNG HIS MEMIOR. How fucking old is Justin Bieber? I honestly don’t know. I’m going to ballpark it at 6. Ok, so this 6 year old (I know he’s 14 or something but it sounds better this way) is convinced it’s finally time to impart his life lessons upon the world by drawing upon his wealth of experiences or, perhaps more accurately, Bieber is under pressure to acquiesce to yet another lucrative business plan set in motion by what must be a massive think tank of marketing experts. So who do we blame? Bieb is just a kid, his team is just doing its job, and the tweens, who may or may not have cooties, will eat this stuff up. Yet, just because it’s difficult to find a scapegoat doesn’t mean we can’t scoff at the existence of a Bieb Memoir. This no doubt riveting tome seems to legitimize Bieber’s ominous claim, “Like, no one can stop me.” Like, fur shur, I’m going to take over the world, round up and murder the old people and invite all my young friends who are revelling in a life of springtime and jejunity (thanks thesaurus.com), to an awesome mayonnaise party:
The central problem here is that youth culture itself is no longer new but has been around long enough for it to be studied, labelled, packaged and sold with the kind of expertise that wasn’t even imaginable during its rise in the 1960s. In response to this strategic domination by all things young, we have forms of media which now, seemingly more than ever before, are merely reflecting cultural change rather than critiquing it. Major news stations want to score interviews with up and coming stars to secure their connection to the young and hip without any real discussion of whether people like Momsen and Bieber deserve such a forum. Obviously, the youth should have their fun and their heroes and heroines but these figures should not infiltrate all media outlets. Does Larry King ever ask himself why he’s involved in the following situation?:. In response to this clip, the Biebdog’s heart is clearly in the right place and you can’t fault the little tiny bitty guy for trying to help out but Jesus Christ, what the fuck is he doing there? “Should we book the expert on oil related disasters who has formally predicted the possibility of this debacle and dedicated his life to understanding means of prevention and methods of crisis management?” “Nah, better go with the 6 year old who sings the word “baby” a lot. I’ve seen him on the tv and my daughters love him!” “You read my mind, Carl.*”
* I’ve named one of these imaginary reporters, Carl.
Now, moving on from the Bieber for a moment, I’m going to make the jump from tweenagers to a slightly older crowd. Let’s talk about the immortal, the controversial, the grenade ridden, Jersey Shore. Yes, I know that The Situation is probably around 34 or so, but the show is marketed strictly as a celebration of youth culture. For those of you who haven’t seen this addictive program, it primarily consists of young people eating pasta, getting drunk and hitting eachother all while trying to ascribe to the ideal of “the guido.” Though this label seems to have been distanced from its ethnic connection to Italian Americans (many of the cast members are not of Italian descent and the references to Italy are generally toned down in Season 2), there has still been much public outcry about the show’s presumed social effect.
In MTV’s defence, the show doesn’t naturalize the image of “the guido” or “guidette.’ Rather, each episode highlights, again and again, how much maintenance these identities require by allowing us access to “backstage” moments when these characters are styling and tanning their way to an apparently “innate” ethnic identity. This of course, hasn’t quelled the controversy surrounding the show. Here’s a quick synopsis from the trusted pages of Wikipedia:
“Prior to the series debut, UNICO National (which is the largest Italian American organization) formally requested that MTV cancel the show.[69] In a letter to the network, UNICO called the show a “…direct, deliberate and disgraceful attack on Italian Americans…”[70] UNICO National President Andre DiMino said in a statement “MTV has festooned the ‘bordello-like’ house set with Italian flags and red, white and green maps of New Jersey while every other cutaway shot is of Italian signs and symbols. They are blatantly as well as subliminally bashing Italian-Americans with every technique possible…”[71] Around this time, other Italian organizations joined the fight, including the NIAF,[72] the Order Sons of Italy in America and the internet watch-dog ItalianAware.[73][74]
MTV responded to the controversy by issuing a press release which stated in part, “the Italian-American cast takes pride in their ethnicity. We understand that this show is not intended for every audience and depicts just one aspect of youth culture.”[66] Since the calls for the show’s removal, several sponsors have requested that their ads not be aired during the show. These sponsors include Dell, Domino’s and American Family Insurance.[75]
So, I’m of two minds on this issue. On the one hand, Italian organizations are quite correctly recognizing the pervasive influence such a popular show may have on the young and impressionable. Certainly their intentions are noble as they seek to protect their identity by preserving the integrity of its traditions. However, though MTV’s answer initially seems to be curt and simplistic, their defence is actually quite effective. This is a show about youth culture, particularly youth club culture. So why then are advocacy groups even bothering to look to these drunken lunatics as purveyors of truth and justice for an entire ethnicity? Does their public contention towards a mere reality tv program merely reinforce the marginalization of the very people they are trying to defend? More specifically, isn’t it a mistake to even presume that such a program could evoke such a strong sense of culturally vulnerability?
I’m not sure. As I was thinking about all of this, my first answer was that it’s a mistake for respected organizations to publicly critique a show that is obviously meant to be taken as light entertainment. However, the influence of The Jersey Shore is vast and, given the way it has easily infiltrated a pandering, passive system of American media and thereby invaded the public consciousness, the carelessness with which MTV packages and sells its cast without controlling the show’s haphazard references to their presumed Italian heritage, is irresponsible. Is it foolish to take such an attentive view of youth culture or foolish to deny the pervasive power of this segment of society? The very fact that I can’t answer this question reflects the all-consuming supremacy of “Young Pioneers,” a title which now feels like a perversion of Walt Whitman’s original vision. Further, if The Situation is indeed in his early thirties, we’ve got to accept the unsettling idea that youthfulness can now be unfixed from actual young people and appropriated by anyone through the magic of tv programming. Apparently everything has got to be youngified in order to attain social and cultural value. Picture the Situation at the age of 56 on season 24 of Jersey Shore, crankily muttering something about “T-shirt time” while staving off the debilitating effects of arthritis and Plantar fasciitis.
to be continued..
beastlords