Thursday, May 17, 2012

Analyzing the Rhetoric of Mitt Romney - A Commencement Speech for the Ages


I tend to shy away from politics, until recently. I felt that politics entailed too much ambiguity and ambivalence to talk coherently about any aspect of it, without expertise, but I don’t feel that I need any sort of expertise to read, carefully and analytically, Mitt Romney’s graduation speech at Liberty University. Romney’s speech demands a response, not silence, or even cynical resignation. Some context will help. Liberty University, to quote Wikipedia, “is a private Christian university located in Lynchburg, Virginia. Liberty's annual enrollment is 12,000 residential students and 60,000+ studying through Liberty University Online. LU is currently the largest Evangelical Christian university in the world.”
The university, founded by Jerry Falwell Sr., and currently run by his son, is a bastion of extreme conservative thought. It’s hard to know what to list as shocking about the University, whether the homophobic, racist, chauvinist statements of both Falwell’s or some of the fundamentalist policies of the University which fly in the face of any sense of academic freedom (espousal of creationism in classes, a museum with a fossil labeled as 3,000 years old.), but as you can imagine, reading about the University might provide some shock as to their tactics and positions. (We will look at this in a bit...) But you cannot fully blame a political candidate for talking to a strong base of people key to his victory, but you can judge his words. I think you could break down any one of his sentences and find not only a hidden context and prejudice, but some flat out lies, self-promotion, simplistic thinking, elitist moralism, and mere pettiness. Here we Go!

1. For the graduates, this moment marks a clear ending and a clear beginning. -
Yes, this, like most of graduation speech will be full of unhelpful cliches, but what’s more interesting about Romney’s cliches is how wrong they are. The end of college no longer signifies either a clear end or a clear beginning. Rather it signifies for many a scary and ambiguous time in which they must confront broken dreams, an economy in crisis, a job market in shambles, and the psychological challenges of emerging adulthood in a world in which we can not expect the luxuries of our parents despite how hard we work.


2. Some of you may have taken a little longer than four years to complete your studies. One graduate has said that he completed his degree in only two terms: Clinton’s and Bush’s. -
So first he launches straight into poorly veiled politicized self-promotion. After a few meager words about the graduates he draws attention to himself, his importance, albeit implicitly here. Second, he tells a story that clearly excludes president Obama, as if he doesn’t or didn't exist, as if his presidency equalled nothing. (Perhaps I misunderstand the story he quotes, but he calls the person a graduate, implying from the class 2012, because otherwise why refer to him with the ambiguous terms graduate in the context of a graduation speech.)

3. In some ways, it is fitting that I share this distinction with Truett Cathy.
In general, quoting other people and name dropping is a staple of graduation speeches, but who you quote often says about what you respect and value. Romney, consequently, name checks a lot of interesting people - here, first, Truett Cathy, who, “In 2007, Forbes magazine ranked Cathy as the 380th richest man in America and the 799th richest man in the world, with an estimated net worth of $1.2 billion.”
Hello donations from the 1%.

4. ...And with credit to Congressman Dick Armey: The American Dream is not owning your own home, it is getting your kids out of the home you own.
Hmmmm, Dick Armey, where do I know that name from? Oh right, he’s homophobic, moralistic, and wants to limit artistic freedom. See his statement on Clinton’s affair with Lewinsky -
In 1998, during the Monica Lewinsky scandal, a reporter asked him what he would do if he were in President Bill Clinton's position. He replied "If I were in the President's place I would not have gotten a chance to resign. I would be lying in a pool of my own blood, hearing Mrs. Armey standing over me saying, 'How do I reload this damn thing?'"

5. Lately, I’ve found myself thinking about life in four-year stretches. And let’s just say that not everybody has achieved as much in these last four years as you have.
That’s a theme for another day. But two observations.
Just some real casual and totally inconspicuous self-promotional Obama bashing in a graduation speech, way to stay classy. Also, comparing the accomplishments of thousands of young graduates to the burdens of the President of the United States. Good argument.

6. In his 73 years of life, Dr. Falwell left a big mark. The calling Jerry answered was not an easy one. Today we remember him as a courageous and big-hearted minister of the Gospel who never feared an argument, and never hated an adversary. Jerry deserves the tribute he would have treasured most, as a cheerful, confident champion for Christ.
Not exactly how I would qualify another moralistic, homophobic, chauvinistic, fundamentalist person, a person who had this to say about 9/11-
"I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'" [42] Falwell further stated that the attacks were "probably deserved," a statement which Christopher Hitchens called treasonous.
Also, Falwell found himself in the position, somehow, of “‘calling the homosexual-friendly Metropolitan Community Churches "brute beasts" and "a vile and Satanic system" that will "one day be utterly annihilated and there will be a celebration in heaven’”
Read more about the cheerful, non-hateful words Falwell here.

7. America needs your skill and talent. If we take the right course, we will see a resurgence in the American economy that will surprise the world, and that will open new doors of opportunity for those who are prepared as you are.
Not only is this simply naive, ambiguous and nonsensical, or directional at all (what’s the right course, because as far as I’ve seen no one really knows) but wrong. Many experts assert that part of problem lies in education, or in the type of education, and that given student debt college might actually not be worth it at this moment, especially given both the economic crisis and the astronomically rising prices in colleges, I don’t see how this canard helps the graduates, though it does help romney put forth good religious conservative beliefs. America does not need your skill and talent, it needs cheap labor, our ph.ds our on an all time high level of food stamps. The collegiate dream, as it stands, is dying. (Read here, here, here.
Even if you disagree with the author, the sheer volume of books being written about the worthlessness of a college degree, begs for some more complexity than reinforcing an outdated version of the american collegiate dream.    


8. Of course, what the next four years might hold for me is yet to be determined. But I will say that things are looking up, and I take your kind hospitality today as a sign of good things to come.I consider it a great life honor to address you today. Your generosity of spirit humbles me. The welcoming spirit of Liberty is a tribute to the gracious Christian example of your founder.
Wait did I hint yet that I am running for president? Oh I did? Well, a third time can’t hurt you. Also, welcoming spirit? To whom, not to homosexuals, or people who disagree with their moral certainty, of course.


9. Today, thanks to what you have gained here, you leave Liberty with conviction and confidence as your armor. You know what you believe. You know who you are. And you know Whom you will serve. Not all colleges instill that kind of confidence, but it will be among the most prized qualities from your education here. Moral certainty, clear standards, and a commitment to spiritual ideals will set you apart in a world that searches for meaning.
    Note the battle metaphors...Also, this really sounds like a fundamental difference in a lifeview i.e. the purpose of education: to teach a single correct path or to teach how to choose a path for oneself. Freedom to choose or Freedom to live the correct life, to live out our so called purpose. So much of this statement instills fear in me. This sounds like a ultra-orthodox right wing Jewish statement to make. Moral certainty, clear standards, spiritual ideals, sounds very much like the making of a rigid ideology that a person shoves onto the world, whether it fits other peoples desires or not. Also note the denigration of colleges that focus more on academic and religious freedom.


10. That said, your values will not always be the object of public admiration. In fact, the more you live by your beliefs, the more you will endure the censure of the world. Christianity is not the faith of the complacent, the comfortable or of the timid. It demands and creates heroic souls like Wesley, Wilberforce, Bonhoeffer, John Paul the Second, and Billy Graham. Each showed, in their own way, the relentless and powerful influence of the message of Jesus Christ. May that be your guide.
Ok, this is a packed sentence. Let’s take it apart. On the whole, America being the most religious country in the world, I’m not sure how to take Romney’s warning that these fundamentalist values will not be the object of public admiration. Also, this creates a an Us vs. Them mentality that goes in line with his metaphor of armour, as if he is sending troops into a war.
Fair point about Christian faith, but Billy Graham along with true christian heroes like Bonhoeffer who fought against the tyranny of the Nazis? The same Billy Graham who on tape made vile anti-semitic statements, statements he doesn’t recall making.


11. You enter a world with civilizations and economies that are far from equal. Harvard historian David Landes devoted his lifelong study to understanding why some civilizations rise, and why others falter. His conclusion: Culture makes all the difference. Not natural resources, not geography, but what people believe and value. Central to America’s rise to global leadership is our Judeo-Christian tradition, with its vision of the goodness and possibilities of every life.
    Breathe, deep. OK, first of all, hey world, case closed on our problems! Romney quoting one academic in a simplified manner has found the solution and cause of all our problems: Culture. Phew, I was real worried there for a second that perhaps the problems stemmed from something considerably more complicated, but it’s good to know that Culture makes all the difference. And what culture is that? Perhaps an amalgam of numerous cultures, nope. The Judeo-Christian Culture, which of course can be spoken as a singular type of culture, not a pluralistic, dynamic culture. Judeo-Christian culture does no wrong, it seems.


12. The American culture promotes personal responsibility, the dignity of work, the value of education, the merit of service, devotion to a purpose greater than self, and, at the foundation, the pre-eminence of the family. The power of these values is evidenced by a Brookings Institution study that Senator Rick Santorum brought to my attention. For those who graduate from high school, get a full-time job, and marry before they have their first child, the probability that they will be poor is 2%. But, if those things are absent, 76% will be poor. Culture matters.
As fundamental as these principles are, they may become topics of democratic debate. So it is today with the enduring institution of marriage. Marriage is a relationship between one man and one woman
    Hey, this sounds kind of nice, I like personal responsibility, all for the dignity of work. Wait a minute, how did family get in there? And what is the definition of a family? Oh, wait for it, that’s the definition of a family, one based on a marriage between a man and a woman. Also, cool study, and way to name drop Rick Santorum, because Rick Santorum really represents some cogent, logical, intelligent points of view. Also, I am not a statistician here, and besides the elitist implications of the studies, since when does correlation equal causality?
    Also let’s see who funds the Brookings Institute - “At the end of 2004 the Brookings Institution had assets of $258 million and spent $39.7 million, while its budget has grown to more than $80 million in 2009. Its largest contributors include the Ford Foundation, the Gates Foundation, Sen. Dianne Feinstein and her husband Richard C. Blum, Bank of America, ExxonMobil, Pew Charitable Trusts, the MacArthur Foundation, the Carnegie Corporation; and the governments of the United States, Japan, Qatar, Taipei, the District of Columbia, and the United Kingdom.”
    Hey, in case you were wondering, Romney doesn’t believe that homosexuals have the right to get married, but that can’t be news.


13. The protection of religious freedom has also become a matter of debate. It strikes me as odd that the free exercise of religious faith is sometimes treated as a problem, something America is stuck with instead of blessed with. Perhaps religious conscience upsets the designs of those who feel that the highest wisdom and authority comes from government.
But from the beginning, this nation trusted in God, not man. Religious liberty is the first freedom in our Constitution. And whether the cause is justice for the persecuted, compassion for the needy and the sick, or mercy for the child waiting to be born, there is no greater force for good in the nation than Christian conscience in action.
    Ok, Romney raises a good point. The nature of religious freedom deserves our attention as a complex question. Does religious freedom entail freedom from religion, or freedom to practice, or both, and if they clash, then how do we resolve that class, but his conclusion of perhaps religious conscience upsets...is a complete non-sequitur, as if somehow not agreeing with a religious conscience automatically leads to a belief in a sort church of government. Q.E.D. folks.
    No greater force for good in the nation than Christian conscience in action. If that does not count as religious elitism, I don’t know what does. Is this a sermon, are all graduation speeches sermon, in some way or another? This though, we can just qualify as religious. The line between praising a religion for its achievement and elitism gets mightily blurry, mightily fast.  
   
    Ok, I’ve already written enough for one day, and I hope to flesh out the implications of these criticisms in the next post, but here, I just wanted to open this up to discussion, and to notification of who our candidates truly are, or how they truly represent themselves. 

The full speech can be found here.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Stupidity of A No Vote - Way To Go Pulitzer!

The word Pulitzer carries along with it a sense of true prestige, and yet, after this year, I can’t help but feel that now it wears the weighty baggage of being stuffy, priggish, rigid, and downright lame. In this post, I first thought to attempt investigate journalism: to explore previous years in which a fiction award was not bestowed (10 times), or examine the criteria, or what exactly a no vote means in the language of the award, but I felt that this type of effort would pander to precisely the type of inane chatter that awards bring up. I don’t want to play this game of who was better, or who deserved the award, because I am not a panelist, and so many people did deserve the award.
I just want to discuss the obvious missed opportunity of a no vote represents. Not only were there many deserving awards, but if you attempt to look at previous winners compared to our year, you will feel baffled in the comparison. A vote of no vote either means no real winner could emerge from a batch of amazing books, or nothing, even if we could create a hierarchy deserved the award, but both of these ideas, even if true, are stupid, and kind of a bit pretentious. It’s ridiculous to think that judges couldnt choose a best book from such an impressive batch, and it’s even sadder to think that they couldnt choose a best book for this year. No one asked them to choose the best book ever, but as Ann Patchett points out, we missed an opportunity here to celebrate something important. The whole idea of a non-vote is ridiculous. Can you actually fathom a year in a which a book isn't good enough for the standards of the all-mighty Pulitzer? I can’t, because many of this year’s nominee should win in a previous year, so it must come down to the fact it was too hard to choose, which is also a ridiculously pretentious option because it ends up putting more focus on the award than on the books themselves.
Let’s think of one possible alternative to a no vote. Though I am biased towards the work of David Foster Wallace, even so, I find his book a perfect example of what we could have accomplished with the Pulitzer. I admit that though some of the Pale King might display DFW’s best work to date, as an unfinished novel, I cannot think it was better than all of the books of the year, and certainly not DFW’s best book ever. But let’s ask a simple question, couldn’t the judges have risen past their limited criteria and chosen a book that represents the lifetime work of one of our best authors of this century? Don’t we give oscars to people who might not deserve them for this specific movie, but deserve recognition for a lifetime of work (Denzel Washington for Training Day, Jeff Bridges for Crazy Heart)? I know lifetime achievement awards exist, but they don’t in the world of the Pulitzer and bestowing a Pulitzer on the Pale King would not only have introduced a whole new and diverse population to this book, but the pained story and astounding works of DFW.
Think about it, even with the death of DFW, as his readership grew, it seemed to grow in a linear manner in that younger people who fit the mold of DFW readers (perhaps lonely, young, highly educated etc) started to read DFW. But imagine that with the stamp of the Pulitzer DFW works were opened to a real diverse range of people who could now feel incentive to challenge themselves.
Many say that to bestow a Pulitzer on a posthumous wouldn’t be fair, but not be fair to whom? I don’t know many authors who would feel offended by this type of an award, or the benefits the literary world would reap, and if it is about betraying some ancient standards of awards, then who really cares? Furthermore, let’s say it started a conversation about literature, about posthumous literature, and about the nature of awards, wouldn’t that serve as a much better conversation for the literary world than the unflattering conversation we need to engage in now about the meaning of a no vote?
To me, what this boils down to is either a cowardice -  an inability to choose - or a pretentiousness, a rigidity to rules that no one cares about besides the institution itself. Both options seem sad, and lame, and generally pathetic. Instead of a positive conversation that would provide an always welcome jolt to the world of literature, we look like idiots, like dorks in fact. In fact, for those of you once upon a time camp-goers, imagine the judges told you that after three days of intense, albeit stupid color war battles, no one wins, because it’s just too hard to tell, or no one won because we all suck, equally, or the most pandering, you are all winners! I hope that as a camp we would revolt, and though I can’t hope for anything similar in the calm world of literature were we argue, kindly, with our words,  I do hope that someone from the Pulitzer world answers for this stupidity, though I highly doubt it. Both the readers and the writers deserve a real explanation on that doesn’t not insult us or rely on some stupid obsession with rules or precedence.
For a calmer argument, read the always amazing Ann Patchett - http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/18/opinion/and-the-winner-of-the-pulitzer-isnt.html?_r=1
Thanks for reading, 
JoeTalk

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Megillah Tweets

Hi all. Tweeted the megillah. It was fun. 

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Cynicism, Genuine Expression and Salvaging Purim

I remember fondly my Purim celebrations in Yeshiva. Sadly, towards many of my previous religious experiences, or stages, I feel heavily ambivalent. However, despite all the estrangement and resentment I feel from religion or towards religion, I rarely look back on my memories of Purim in Yeshiva as wasted, or perhaps backwards. For me, Purim represented a strange magical time, in which I could feel true joy, a dropping of all pretense, and a genuine connection of love to everyone and everything around me. For the skeptics out there, I also got drunk for the first time in my life on Purim, and on that day, a good friend of mine pushed me around the adjacent town in a shopping cart, but the frivolity need not negate the sincerity. I, for a day, maybe even for the whole month, forgot any sense of frustration, or distaste, or even resentment towards anybody in my life despite living in that stage of life when I resented everything and everyone. Purim felt like a sanctioned day off from all my worries, neuroses, and harsh self-lacerations against myself. I felt an odd almost Zen sense of purity, or connection, a day of real spiritual freedom and cleanliness. A day full of that sentiment that everything fits, that you can see your life clearly, your path, your purpose. To some extent, this idea keeps me attached to the feelings Purim used to elicit.

However, each successive Purim since my first drunken one in Yeshiva becomes less and less inspiring, moving, or even exciting. Part of it stems from the history of the day, and the uniqueness of our cultural situation. Regardless of the historical accuracy of the Purim story, as many scholars point out, most religions embrace a day of frivolity or revelry, a day, where the normal rules of propriety do not apply, as if these days serve as a release of a pressure valve that builds up throughout the year. Think of the carnivals of old, of the Festival of Fools, or of the initial foundations of Mardi Gras. Purim, they opine, plays this same role. However, two historical developments make this purpose of the day obsolete. First, most Jews do not live regimented religious lives in need of a release, and two, most people I know drink, or smoke pretty regularly that the idea of a designated day of revelry feels like overkill.

If the festival of Purim, both from a legal standpoint, but also from a historical standpoint serves a similar purpose to the Christian festival of fools, or carnivals of old, then our more materialistic, experiential lifestyle full of joints, cigarettes, hukkah, large meals, alcohol, sex, the best food whenever you want it, in a time when we embrace physical indulgence on every level unless it hurts someone else, then a simple day of indulgence serves as no release, as no big deal at all. So we get to drink! Don’t we drink all the time? Don’t we go to parties all the time?

For some, in attempts to salvage the singularity of the holiday, they turn the day into a representation of a cause, here, usually feminism, in the vein of Esther’s independence and assertiveness. Though this attempt disregards the historical patriarchal society of the supposed tale, the image awakens us to an issue we easily forget (recent events in American politics remind of the exigency of this issue.)  However, social justice can only sustain a holiday until the fight continues, and even then, a fight rarely infuses a holiday with a sense of connection to something greater. Instead, it uses a traditional story to serve contemporary needs, which in of itself presents no problem, but misrepresents the significance of the day. Yoram Hazony’s book on Esther, a politicization of the story, while intelligent, works mostly off conjecture, and emerges as a propaganda infused reading of a text.) Yet, even if we find a tangential meaning to attach to the holiday, we cannot overcome certain problems with the story itself as it promulgates a provincial, myopic outlook, a culture preening of its own merits. I doubt many people go through the holiday and take much inspiration from the story of a genocide averted through fierce retaliation, in the way people do from the Passover and Hanukkah story.

Yet, as usual, the celebration itself transcends the actual act we commemorate. Here, for most, or if not many the day, if you choose to drink, is a long drunken stupor in which you flirt, hug, dress up, and act stupid, because why not. It’s a day of partying, not unlike a vacation day, but here with the outlines of religious observance. For many it’s nothing more than a party theme, which isn’t a judgment, but an observation, one that fits in with the religious development of a large part of Judaism away from traditional bonds and connections. No secret here.

So where does that leave us? We can take away easy messages of being yourself, or of creating an autonomous personality, or of fighting for religious tolerance, but these easy Lifetime/Hallmark channel truisms leave little impressions on our personality. Or, we can explain that we revel often, but how often do we engage in a mass cultural revelry, one in which our whole community celebrates, drunkenly? None of this convinces me, because when it comes down to it, Purim parties that start the week beforehand, again, feel like a hilariously misguided excuse to celebrate as opposed to a reason for celebration. Additionally, we cannot outrun the obvious point that  inevitably, with an attenuation of religious devotion and observance, most if not all holidays will turn into emptier experiences, though perhaps culturally viable, and even valuable. Consequently, the question that remains is what can we add, or make of the holidays on a level that fits our desires, needs, and personality, to engage? How can I use these ritualistic times of the year, traditionally given to thoughts of spirituality as a contemporary person who lacks certainty, and often doubts the existence of something more than the material world?

Interestingly, I find myself chewing on an answer from the spiritual realm. One strong vein in the mystical realm explains that Purim represents a day to transcend our mere physicality not through the weaker asceticism of the Day of Atonement, but  transcendence through the embrace of the earthly. More importantly, for our purposes, it represents a day in which no one hides, but here on Purim, as much as we, similar to the Day of Atonement, cannot hide from the Eternal Judge, here we cannot hide from the disparate parts of ourselves, or other people. Here’s a day in which we accept people for as they are, what they want to be, poor or rich, cool or lame, awkward or charismatic, part of the brotherhood of men, bro, or not; whether the rabbis intended for this, this aspect has become part of the day.

It’s not hard to see that this insight transcends any religious goals or motivations. It simply states what we know as true, but forget most of the time: that real, and true communication matters to us; that we know it gives value, purpose, and meaning to our lives, but we shy away from it, for whatever reason. We know deep down that in order to love, to survive, we need to speak and act genuinely, risking vulnerability with other people. Sometimes we need to drop the cynicism, the narcissism, the desire to look cool, to be seen as smart or pretty, to think more about what you can give than what you can take to feel normal, balanced, healthy even. I imagine most unmarried people on this day will seek out someone to love them, someone to flirt with, or someone to make them feel pretty, but perhaps, instead of seeking out a way to make ourselves feel better, however fleeting, we should look to provide that to someone else.

The message ends up non-ideological, but cliched nonetheless. However, we underestimate the value of cliches.  If we think about it, so much of how we navigate our day depends on cliches: to comfort ourselves in times of need, to easily categorize information, to help us keep together the social glue, to flirt. All of these arenas rely on cliches or conventional wisdom that slips out of our consciousness, daily. Sometimes we mislabel certain wisdom or rules about our non-physical selves as cliches because it lacks complexity or the concreteness and certitude of biology (Imagine someone expressing snarkiness at the “cliche” of vegetables offering more healthy ingredients than greasy fried chicken), but we can agree on same basic human requirements: to feel loved, unconditionally, to feel understood, challenged, accepted by others and by ourselves flaws, insecurities and all, and to feel respected. This basic existential needs engenders happiness, and makes us more caring people. In this sense, Purim affords a free pass to care deeply about our family, our friends, and our selves, without the normal social repercussions, to give gifts for no particular reasons to the ones you love, to hug freely, to give without hesitation to the poor. Purim is a day in which we can remember the needs we learned as we grew up but forget when we grew smart, all of which does sound like a Hallmark card, but maybe that’s the point.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Yellow Ostrich, Leonard Cohen, and The Timeless Search For Meaning

A part of me knows the foolishness of categorization, the superficiality of it all. We impose categories to create order, or for the sake of comparison, but we all know, that when we say x artist is similar to y artist we do both a disservice on some deep level. (The comparison of the Tallest Man on Earth to Dylan is both truly fitting, but plainly silly for too many reasons to enumerate here.) We fail as writers when we fall back on the need to contextualize, because contextualization, though true, always saps an artist of their singularity. But we cannot help ourselves. Our minds naturally create connections, or build compare contrast charts in our heads.
Not that any of this matters, per se, but I find it interesting because so many of our cultural critics rely on this tool, contextualization, or comparison when evaluating anything. Rarely do we use our language to try to overcome the boundaries of language, and who can blame them? Regardless all of this abstract wanderings, these ideas serve as an unnecessarily elaborate way of saying that in no way do I actually think that Alex Schaaf of Yellow Ostrich and Leonard Cohen belong in any of the same categories. However, I do find it interesting to think about these two talents, both hitting separate peaks at the opposite ends of their career at similar times. Leonard Cohen, rightfully so, needs less of an introduction, so allow me to introduce to you the prolific and talented Alex Schaaf. Native of Wisconsin, Schaaf started his musical career in the band Chairs and in his room with a bunch of machines, it seems. Though many lament the Internet for its proliferation of information, almost creating a storm of information that we need to sift through day in and day out, where websites solely work through winnowing information for other people, this overflow also allows us to track each miniscule step of an artist, which in the case of Schaaf is a fascinating endeavor to experience. Though clearly far from achieving anything in the way of his full potential, Schaaf has grown and evolved from a precociously talented teenager, capable of crafting gorgeous layers of song with just his voice, a guitar, and some sound machines, into a poetic writer of fully realized studio songs, still with his signature vocal loops, but now with a band to collaborate with. His first single off his upcoming album Strange Land, Marathon Runner serves as a great evidence of his place as an artist, as does Cohen’s first song of his new album, Old Ideas, Going home. Here are the lyrics and music to both. First, Marathon Runner, then Going Home.

listen here:
http://soundcloud.com/yellow-ostrich/marathon-runner
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2012/01/leonard-cohens-going-home-new-song.html

Marathon Runner

When I was a boy of seventeen, I know it's mean, but I I told my friend to give up on her dreams, she hated me, but I I knew that dreams were for the best of us, not for the rest of us, and I I didn't want to share with anyone

I need a way to sing the greatest dance, and make them laugh,
I could win the wars, or lose the battles too, whichever's true
I can live in other people's lives -
I CAN'T STOP PUTTING ON OTHER PEOPLE'S CLOTHES
I love them 'til I leave

I am a marathon runner and my legs are sore and I'm anxious to see what I'm running for I am a hot air balloon on a sailboat I would make this my home if I'd learned to float
So take my treasures, take my earthly life, I'll try to cry,
I will live without the things I love the best
So hold them to your chest
I will lose my faces, lose my stolen wigs, the heads of kings
I will run until I know what to believe

Going Home

I love to speak with Leonard
He’s a sportsman and a shepherd
He’s a lazy bastard
Living in a suit

But he does say what I tell him
Even though it isn’t welcome
He will never have the freedom
To refuse

He will speak these words of wisdom
Like a sage, a man of vision
Though he knows he’s really nothing
But the brief elaboration of a tube

Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
To where it’s better
Than before

Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore

He wants to write a love song
An anthem of forgiving
A manual for living with defeat

A cry above the suffering
A sacrifice recovering
But that isn’t what I want him to complete

I want to make him certain
That he doesn’t have a burden
That he doesn’t need a vision

That he only has permission
To do my instant bidding
That is to SAY what I have told him
To repeat

In a sense, I find it fascinating, that though at the opposite spectrum of their careers, both speak about movement, about home, about finding a place, but as expected, one speaks in a playful style of irony, riddles, mysteries, and a resigned sense of accomplishment that only the wisdom of years can bestow, (True, even the Cohen of 17 wrote gnomic poetry, but sometimes it still feels precocious or unearned, incommensurate to his life experience, ) while the younger artist: hungry, a bit desperate, restless, writes and sings without glibness, with a genuine desire to find his place, to run, despite the aches and pains, to finally find something to actually run for. In both we find hope, but in the Marathon Runner, we find the hope of youth, seeing a world exploding with the potential of choice while in Going home, we find the hope of concrete expectations, and the wisdom of acceptance. Stylistically, they are both poems to the self, meditations on persona that double as conversations.

The music reinforces the different stages of the artists self exploration: whereas Marathon runner builds in speed, running itself into meaning, Going home walks slowly, carefully observing each step, each sound, even the silence permeating between the sounds. The pacing of each cannot partake of more diametrically opposed choices. Schaaf’s song runs through the words, through its measures, while Cohen speaks sparsely, slowly, with time to waste, to burn.

In this vein, both songs strike a deeply religious note, though the religiosity of post-modernism in which the search takes the place of the destination. Cohen, a continual, itinerant explorer, rehashes the experiences of a lifetime, but still seeks to create, “a love song, an anthem of forgiving, a manual for living with defeat, a cry above the suffering, a sacrifice recovering.” Notice how Cohen, carefully undermines our expectation with each turn of phrase. For Cohen, the bard of the complexities of love to desire to  write a love song, well I can’t help but chuckle. Furthermore, in the context of the other phrases, “a love song” take on a different meaning. Each phrase strikes a note of mystery, of reaching beyond what we think normal or natural. We rarely associate anthems with forgiveness, or cries above suffering, or a manual of living that focuses on defeat, but with the hindsight of wisdom they earn their coherence. These goals are the goals of experience, not of youth. Schaaf, considerably less subtle in his poetry, specifically in his imagery (Marathon runner, though an appropriate metaphor is not what one would call a fertile metaphor, or even a very new one, but it strikes the exact tone of running for no real purpose, but with an ostensible end in sight,) loses none of his power in his explicitness. In fact, in his genuineness, lies his power, because in a world of either easy cynicism (sorry, MGMT) or maudlin sentimentality (duh Coldplay and Mumford and Sons…) creating a genuine statement presents an almost harder challenge than a cryptic one. What then, could strike us as more genuine than the simple truth of, “I will run until I know what to believe.”

Schaaf describes a struggle with perhaps one of the foundational issues of our generation: the tension between a deep-seated desire for personal achievement with the loftier, but more elusive desire to be a good person, or the thin line between meaning and the absurd. The relationship between self and other plays a central role in both of these songs as they explore the complex aspects of an artist's role and life in society.
    
Yet, despite all this heaviness, they both display a healthy sense of sense-awareness and playfulness. Cohen undermines his persona of a visionary guide or prophet through his playful dialogue with his lazy bastard self, while Schaaf undercuts his desire for purpose and meaning in his realization of the selfishness of such a pursuit.

In the end, after we clear away this attempt at analysis, when it comes down to it I find it comforting for the new guard picking up the torch of these universal issues with a contemporary tinge, and even more comforting, both of these artists display no desire to stop finding out what they are running for, and for that, I feel gratitude.