The Postmod's Dilemma

Or, Is Pop Culture Out to Get You?

Even if you're not aware of it now, Pop Culture may some day turn against you. Sure, it can be your best friend if you are just stoked about following the crowd like a bunch of desperate cattle, focused on not being separated from the herd, but if you are the type to enjoy having an original thought, who enjoys having the potential to be classified as 'different,' then Pop Culture can be your worst enemy.

There was once a Lizzie McGuire episode where Gordo started liking Big Band, and liked the fact that he was the only one to like it. Then it became popular, and whereas he had taken the effort to learn every single minute detail and aspect about his hobby, many of the new followers knew nothing and had just had jumped upon the bandwagon to be cool. However, from just a glimpse, no one would be able to tell if Gordo had originally started the entire trend or if he had just hitched a ride aside the others to be admired as “in.” He did not want to run that risk of being misjudged, and so decided that the safest way out would be to ditch his original true love and go in search of a substitute passion. However, he never became truly happy, and by the end of the episode, Gordo and the viewer learned that the most important thing is to be true to yourself and stick with what it is that you love, no matter what other people are doing.

A 22-minute show gave a short and sweet answer to the ultimate question that has stumped rebels and indie kids for centuries. What to do if your proverbial non-beaten path becomes trampled by the masses? It is an all too common scenario: you start off liking something simply because you think it is likeable. Then Pop Culture establishes that you shouldn’t like it, and that “no one” likes that thing, so you take pride in being different and “against the crowd,” embracing this idea of being a rebel. This then evolves into becoming part of the reason why you even like the thing in the first place. Then in a flash, your prestigious amigo, Pop Culture, turns on you, making “your” thing an overnight sensation that “everyone” desperately wants to be a part of. When Pop Culture had been your friend in the beginning, aiding you in being unique, it has now turned against you, leaving you under its loom, worried that it will follow whatever step you take, only steps behind. What to do? Run away and find something else with the potential threat of being chased by Pop Culture in a vicious cycle? Is that just giving in to it? Or stay where you are, trampled on by crowds of desperadoes wanting to be cool, and sucking the life out of you?

There are two ways in which this can be played out: One is the shallow aspect. Clothing, phrases, lingoes, celebrity crushes... In these cases it is best to find a new something to latch onto in order to be unique. However, on a deeper level, there are books and music. In this case, ditching your passion is like taking poison and waiting for the enemy to die. It will do no good to anyone to give up what you found and love just because other have too, and it will just leave you feeling empty.

An example of something shallow and thus the questionability of latching onto it, is clothing. More specifically, sequin belts. One of my Value-Village-scouting compadres and I had found amazing sequined belts on one of our rummaging endeavors. We thought that they were so incredibly hilarious and out-there that we decided that we had to have them, (also for just about a dollar each why not?) Months later, however, they mysteriously became the new trend, being sold at stores like Forever 21 and Urban Outfitters. Now everybody who at least thought they were an “anybody” had a sequined belt just because they wanted to latch on to the hot new “it” item. My friend and I were stuck, not wanting to look like we just had the belts simply to make ourselves feel popular, but still wanting to show off our rummage finds. The problem with a subject as shallow as clothing, is that it is easy to be judged solely and quickly just on appearance and then not thought much of, so there is a great potential for being tossed into the category of a “follower.” Once everybody is wearing the same thing, no one cares about who bought it first, or who paid what for it, but only about the phenomenon of a bunch of monkeys all doing the same thing.

You are faced with the dilemma of deciding whether you should just find a new thing that no one likes, but with the potential of starting a vicious cycle and being chased by Pop Culture, or saying that you like the thing enough that it doesn't matter who else shares that same opinion. If you don’t want to give into the image-establishing potential of this type of scenario, the best way to win is to either simply surrender, and go off to find a new thing, or lay low for a while until the trend hits its peak, causing it to fall and mellow down, letting you resume back up again once the fad has faded everyone’s mind.

A problem with sticking is that people don't believe you were an “original” (the afore-mentioned Gordo’s fear,) which is just a weird ego-trip anyway, and so you look like another shallow follower newbie just trying to be cool. Should you keep the old thing but also add on a new thing so you still have a unique aspect? This might be a good idea with a band, but not with a belt or a celebrity crush.

For years I had had an obsession with the stars Jimmy Fallon and Adrien Brody, at a time when most people didn't even know who they were. When my friends eventually realized whom I had been talking about, they had the “voice of the media” inside their heads, telling them that no one would like those people, and that Adrien has a big nose, therefore is ugly, so no one should like him. As the child that I was, I embraced the fact that my friends thought I was strange, making me like my minor obsessions even more.

Then one sad day, Jimmy Fallon came out with his Redsocks movie. Any one who had questioned his stance before was now sucked in by the hype of “now,” and media. The day my friends began talking about him I was forced to make the decision that he would be dead to me (which I could afford because I still had Adrien Brody.)

For a while my friends still classified my tastes as odd and all was alright, until the dreaded day they saw the movie, ‘King Kong.’ “Hey, you were right- he is pretty cute!” –“NOOOOO!!!,” I screamed, and fell to my knees on the floor, having lost what I had before been clinging onto.

I realize that this is a sort of selfish rule with myself, but it’s not necessarily that I’m saying no one else can like the things that I like- just that I would rather like something that is unknown to the masses. This is an example of a shallow scenario because there is no real issue that you can get into involving a celebrity crush. It might make you feel happy, but ultimately you will probably get nothing out of it, so why not move on and find something new?

However, when it comes to music, if you ditch what you love simply because other people get into it, you could be missing something. Before the O.C. came out, there was a select Shins and Death Cab for Cutie fan base, proud that they had found the music on their own. They liked the music, and also the fact that no one else knew who this band was, making them part of an elite music crowd. Then the O.C. came out, automatically labeling these bands as “cool” and the “hip new thing.” Now there were a bunch of new fans who knew next to nothing of what they were following, making the original fans feel robbed.

The originals could have gone on to find their own new thing that T.V. had not popularized, but then they would have been missing out on the music they liked. Music isn’t superficial in the same way that clothing is, because just by looking at a person you can’t tell what they spend their time listening to. Because of this, if you forced yourself to wean yourself away from what made you happy in order to maintain your selfish pride, no one else would even notice your conscious effort, and it would just leave you feeling empty. Besides, in your heart you could still know that you were an original and that you don’t just fall into the same category as all of the bandwagon ride-hitchers.

I guess it all comes down to having to ask yourself what you like more: the fact that you like the thing, or the actually thing. Then, depending on your true answer you can decide if it would be a bigger benefit to you to find something new, because that is the real thrill, or if you must just stay with what you love, because you love it. I know that I will keep listening to The Shins and Death Cab for Cutie no matter what other people make of it, but I just might have to find someone knew and unfamiliar to croon over. Michael Angarano anyone?