30 May 2010

BREAKING NEWS: GUSHER IN THE GULF

30 May 2021, PALINATION: Lawmakers, in concert with the Palin-Bachmann Administration (1), continue to respond to the latest environmental disaster to befall this young administration: the uncontrolled gushing of renewable energy. With a video montage of the nation's only remaining National Park, The Deepwater Horizon "Freedom Fountain," playing in the background, President Palin delivered a forceful message, "The time for action's come, folks. God gave us energy in the form of oh-so-plentiful oil and coal and here we are, spittin' in the face of the Almighty and the dinos and lil' sea creatures who gave up their lives those thousands of years ago to give us an unlimited supply of fossil fuel by our continued investment in renewable energy. It ain't right. Just like He gave us cute little animals to shoot from helicopters, He also gave us a vast deposit of dino bones all crushed up, liquified, and ripe for the drillin'. We can't let the [air quotes] mainstream [un-airquotes] media and the remaining band of those Commies keep fillin' up the underground airwaves with that nonsenese about [more air quotes] renewable energy being better for the environment -- newsflash East Coast Liberals: it ain't."

The comments, the strongest to date, came after another coal-fired power plant was forced to close after it was rendered obsolete due to the continued, staggering performance of renewable energy, a lasting legacy of He Who Shall Not Be Named's Administration (2). Vice President Michelle Bachmann also released a statement, "We are faced today with a choice: tyranny or liberty. If we choose liberty, then we shall be free to take what we want from our scorched earth -- all the clean coal from our mountains, all the methane from our arctic permafrost (thanks global warming!), and all the oil from the Black Coast [formerly named the Gulf Coast]. If we choose tyranny (3), then we let the sun and wind tell us when it's time to get some energy. And that doesn't sound like the kind of country I want to live in. No, it sounds like Russia. Which was a communist country. Or, wait, a fascist country. No, wait, a republic. Shoot, I can't remember. But it was something bad, something unnamed yet unmistakable -- it was different. And therefore we shall fear it (4)."

Statements like these are only possible in this new America. After the 2020 election, walls were constructed around the Blue States and Tea Party guards were stationed at every mile, armed only with fervor, disillusionment, and a shit-ton of guns and ammo. Said one Tea Party soldier while choking back "freedom tears", "I ain't never been this proud to be a Palimerican living in PaliNation(5). I got into this whole "destroy the government to take back government only to destroy it from the inside, like a festering infection" thing a decade ago as a volunteer for Senator (now Viceroy) of Middle America, Rand Paul. He gave me the confidence to speak without thinking. He told me that my misinformed ideals and politically un-workable positions were really the best solution for this new country. I owe my life to Rand Paul and the Tea Party."

One thing is for sure, the year 2010 will echo throughout history. It was the year Americans finally realized the consequences of the energy choices they made. It was the year they realized that more drilling for a finite resource located in environmentally sensitive regions was a recipe for abuse and disaster. It was the year they realized that large corporations (banks, financial services, automobile manufacturers, oil companies, coal mining companies) must be regulated by a forceful governmental presence to prevent disaster. Because when that disaster came, we saw that it did not affect the companies. It affected ordinary Americans. And they reacted. They reacted with anger and distrust of the government, not unjustified. But instead of advocating for the stronger presence of government oversight, they argued instead for no government (6).

****
(1) "Administration" is a term with only mere symbolic meaning now, as we all know, since President Palin disbanded much of the federal government after her election win last November. She defeated Democratic nominee Rahm Emanuel and Republican John McCain, who ran on a campaign of lies and air quotes. After taking a modified oath of office (leaving only "So help me God," which was never actually in the Constitution or a law but a vestige of a tradition recited by all presidents since FDR (including He Who Shall Not Be Named [Pres. Obama] who, despite the Official Recorded History of the United States of (Palin) America which says he did not, did in fact say this line when he was sworn into office both times, in 2008 and 2012.)), the Palin-Bachmann Administration "cleaned house" by getting rid of all executive agency personnel in the largest mass firing in history. Leaving an inexperienced skeleton crew to run the now empty agencies (Rand "Accidents Happen" Paul at EPA, Rush Limbaugh as Sec'y of Health (who by virtue of his prescriptions alone accounts for 45% of the "so-called" socialized medicine intake in the country), and as an olive branch from Palin's Tea Party to McCain and his Republican(?) party, a spot as the top (well, only) civilian border security officer).

(2) After public outcry reached critical mass in the summer of 2010, President Obama and other Democratic lawmakers ushered through comprehensive energy and climate legislation. Despite harsh criticism from the traditional energy industry and conservative lawmakers, the bill ushered in a new age of energy, once again propelling the United States to an unquestioned world leadership position. Although Obama expended most political capital getting the legislation through Congress in that summer of 2010, he did go on to end the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, bring peace to Darfur, Palestine, and the former Soviet Bloc. This was progress was lost, as we all remember, in the first few months of the Palin-Bachmann Administration when the Iranian War began and the United States severed all ties with the "Pinkie" world community. And yet, because of the strong foundation laid out in the 2010 climate legislation, renewable energy continued to thrive, buoyed by private investment and commercial success, most notably by Al Gore, who now owns much of the world's energy companies, much to the chagrin of the Administration.

(3) A less-successful initiative of the Palin Administration has been the attempt to mandate a nation-wide "Find and Replace" of "tyranny" with "Obama-y"; the initiative sputtered when First Dude Todd Palin was caught replacing "tyranny" with "boobies" on the nation's only remaining computer [yeah, we only have 1 "official" computer now in the U.S., since the internet was deemed to be the work of the devil and getting information through words has been censored and remains now only on Fox News tickers and underground blogs like this one].

(4) "And Therefore We Shall Fear It" became the Palin campaign's best-known slogan. Remember 2008 and "Yes We Can!" and "Change We Can Believe In"? Well this was like that, only 20 times bigger. Literally. Our national car, the Hummer's H2, was outfitted with bold 10 ft banners adorned with the phrase that waved from wind blocks installed on the roof to make them even less efficient. Because, in the words of another popular Palin slogan, "Hey, it's only energy!" mileage requirements became blase in the minds of many during the 2020 campaign.

(5) With apparent obliviousness as to the actual pronunciation of "Palimerican" and the predominance of white citizens of the newly created PaliNation, this unfortunate combination of words gained traction in the Irony-Free zone of the new United States. 

(6) To be honest, I couldn't figure out where to take this post. On the one hand, it's a reaction to the useless, self-serving political chatter out there (ahem, Rand "Accidents Happen" Paul). On the other, it's a sense of exasperation that we're missing our chance. Our Cuyahoga River fire. Our Montgomery bus boycott.  That galvanizing moment in every movement that begets change. Because this is certainly that moment. Exxon-Valdez is considered to be a significant oil spill and it was, no doubt. But there was an idea of the extent of the oil that needed to be cleaned up. It was a finite amount from one ship. The litigation is still ongoing and the Alaskan coastline is still feeling the effects, but it was somehow manageable. The Gulf spill is different. This is like an Exxon Valdez that doesn't stop. If life were a movie, Bruce Willis would be making an appearance right about now, with some insane plan to save the known world that ends up working in the end. Not top kill or top hat but Die Hard. The pictures of oil gushing out of the riser and then circulating suspended in the upper water column are like the sea birds covered in oil 20 years ago. Or the Cuyahoga River on fire (below). But I'm not seeing how the political landscape has shifted. Conventional wisdom might lead to the conclusion that a moment like this would lead for a push for renewable energy, where an energy "leak" would only mean it's a windy day. But instead, the conservatives who demanded that offshore drilling be included in energy/climate legislation will almost surely drop off as public and political sentiment shifts away from that mentality but their funding continues from the big energy lobby and Tea Partiers opposed to any increase in government. And that's the real tragedy of this oil spill. A thing that should be apparent -- that our current energy use is unsustainable and necessarily dangerous to both humans and wildlife -- is lost in translation from our television or computer screens to our brain. I can only hope that the simmering anger over this disaster is directed at useful goals, namely the tightening of government oversight in the fossil fuel industry, comprehensive climate/energy legislation to invest in new forms of energy, and a rediscovering of how precious our country's natural resources are to our livelihood and psyche. If not, we might as well live in Palimerica.

19 May 2010

Vinyl Blotter, Vol. 3

Busy, busy week. Had my last final, wrote a 15 page report on pesticides, celebrated my birthday -- all reasons to visit the record store for a celebratory dig through those dusty crates I love so much. Here are some highlights in this edition of vinyl blotter.

1. Low (David Bowie, Let it Be Record Sale)

I found this late 70's classic at sale that resembled a vinyl garage sale. The owner of Let it Be Records, formerly a brick and mortar record shop in Minneapolis (I remember when it closed, about 5 years ago -- I was running with the radio on and the Current played "Let it Be" as it closed its doors for the last time. Sad indeed.), gets his record selling buddies together every 6 months or so to have a physical sale (they all sell online). It was weird to see old, crusty musicheads in a very vanilla rec room at some trendy condos off of University in St. Paul. Kind of like seeing your grade school teacher at the supermarket. Something just doesn't seem right when you see people outside of their natural habitat. Anyway, this record was rated by Pitchfork (the hipsters!) as the number one record of the 70's. I don't believe them (I think it was Exile on Main St. by the Rolling Stones, London Calling by the Clash, or My Aim is True by Elvis Costello), but it is a good record. You can hear the influence of the awesome Brian Eno, kind of like you can hear the influence of the awesome Mick Ronson on his earlier albums from the 70's. This guy is good. And he officiates fashion walk-offs, what more can you ask for?

2. Green River (Creedence Clearwater Revival, Cheapo)
I don't think I give CCR enough credit. Their music is some of the most instantly recognizable classic rock imaginable, which probably dilutes their image in my mind. But the emotion John Fogerty sings with paired with good ole' swamp rock really stands out listening to it on vinyl.

3. Daptone Gold (Various Artists, Cheapo)
Ok, so Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings get a lot of the attention when it comes to this record label. But like Atmosphere and the Rhymesayers label, Jones and crew only represent the tip of the iceberg when it comes to talent on the rest of the label. It's so nice to hear "authentic" soul and R&B on fresh vinyl. According to the Daptone website, they do it right -- analog recording, meticulous engineering and mixing, and the oft-forgotten artist development. This sampler album of rarities and B-sides is a great introduction to anyone interested in hearing what modern day soul sounds like.

4. Eric Clapton and the Yardbirds with Sonny Boy Williamson (Hymie's)
Honestly, I had not heard of Sonny Boy Williamson before I got this record. But after reading on the back of the album (mp3's don't have a backside, do they?) that he was an early force in the Chicago Blues sound and an influence on Buddy Guy (misspelled on the album as "Buddy Gay" oops) and Muddy Waters, I was sold. And, hey, it was only $3. I've made more costly mistakes in my time, believe me. In addition, the album is a chance to hear a young Eric Clapton (I wonder if this was before he was a god) back a blues legend. The verdict: definitely a keeper and a good find. It was fun to trace the lineage of the blues past my go-to's of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, and B.B. King.

5. Blood on the Tracks (Dylan, Hymie's)
Sure, upon the release of any new album by Bob Dylan, you'll hear fans say, "This is the best album since Blood on the Tracks," and it's a pretty established notion that this album was his best since Blonde on Blonde and established a second peak in his career, then only little more than a decade old. And in my mind, this album deserves to be a touchstone in his career. You can tell that it was borne out of anguish and, unfortunately, angst makes for good music. But it's not only "fuck off" music, which saves this album from novelty status. My favorite is "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go," a song about accepting the inevitable loss of a loved one while still feeling the inevitable pain. So yes, it is unlikely that he will again top this album (he arguably reached this level during his late-90's trilogy, but never surpassed it) and so we can forever say each new album is the best since Blood on the Tracks.

10 May 2010

Vinyl Blotter, Vol. 2

If my luck at record stores is any indication of how my finals go, I'm going to ace the civil procedure exam tomorrow. Another great day of finds at my new favorite record store and subject of the first Vinyl Blotter, Hymie's Vintage Records. Eight records for $18. You can do the math. And it's not like these were the typical ubiquitous records you find in the $2 bin. I didn't buy another copy of Rumors, Born to Run, or The Doobie Brothers' Greatest Hits. I bought these:

1. Sticky Fingers (The Rolling Stones)

Could be the most famous bulge not associated with Al Gore. Yes, this is the famous 1971 album that features a (working) zipper on the Andy Warhol-designed cover. It's kind of weird and I'm a little afraid that it's going to damage my other records (umm, not in the way you're thinking -- but because of the zipper protruding, sicko), but it's an awesome record. With "Brown Sugar," "Wild Horses," and "Bitch," it's another bluesy stab at rock by a great band smack in the middle of my favorite era of theirs. And it was only $2. At Electric Fetus, it would've been at least $12.

2. Rocks (Aerosmith)
Another band with a lead singer best known for his lips and drug use. Another great album from their mid-70's peak. Another steal at $3.

3. & 4. Ram (Paul McCartney) & Band on the Run (Wings)
Is it bad that Paul is my favorite Beatle? Sure, John was more angsty and more "high art" minded and George was more mystical and Ringo was...on Shining Time Station, but has there been anyone more melodic than Macca? I love his bouncy basslines and pop-centric arrangements on these albums. They aren't up to the standards of his other band, but these two albums are right on their heels.

5. Hank Williams' Greatest Hits
For when you're so lonesome you could cry. I take Hank over Dierks Bently, Big & Rich, or almost any other mainstream "country" musician any day. 

6. Endless Summer (The Beach Boys)
Ok, so this isn't Brian Wilson's artistic statement like Pet Sounds or SMILE, but these instantly recognizable summer songs are just what I needed on a drizzly, cool May day. And, at 50 cents, how could you go wrong?

7. The Shirelles
A short (18 min) compilation of this 1960's girl band that will sound great on a lazy August weekend evening.
8. Texas Flood (Stevie Ray Vaughan)
One of the best blues records ever.

The point of this post and this whole Vinyl Blotter series of posts is not to try and convince people that I have "good' taste in music. It's to try and convince people to explore music outside of the mainstream. Sure, all of these bands were or still are "mainstream," but the point is that they're not being force-fed to the public on the iTunes homepage or on KS95. For less than the price of a song, you can find music either forgotten or shoved into some niche (oldies, classic rock, country western) and therefore ignored by most casual music listeners. I write about vinyl so much because it's something I really enjoy doing and sharing. Each time I dig into a dusty crate, it's like an instant history lesson. So this is what people used to listen to. I find myself thinking about who the previous owner was, why they bought the album -- why they decided to sell it. I love new music too, but discovering influences it makes it all the more enjoyable. It's listening to the band Girls and hearing Elvis Costello's exaggerated snarl. Or hearing Dusty Springfield in Cat Power. Or the Shirelles in Beyonce. And while it's easy to fall into a "spot-the-influences" trap, it's also easy to think that the music that comes out today somehow came out of a musical test tube, with no antecedent. Kind of like teaching creationism in schools ;o)

09 May 2010

Mum

I looked down at my feet to the cheap Little Mermaid ball sitting there, inviting me to kick it. It wasn't one of those heavy red rubber balls you play kickball with, it was one of those $0.70 balls they keep in those tall wire racks at Target or Menards. Instead of a satisfactory fwap when struck or bounced, this kind of ball made an odd doooing. In short, it was pretty flimsy/harmless, as far as balls go. There is a slight chance that this factor crossed my slowly developing mind as I simultaneously dialed in the maximum kick velocity/trajectory and saw my mom stomp towards me with that universal "DON'T YOU DARE" expression moms get. And so, in one of those confounding choices a youth makes, I began to see my mom as more of a Pakistani civilian to the Predator Drone missile of a kick I was about to unleash on a grass stained Ariel -- collateral damage. Foot struck ball. Ariel (and maybe Sebastian, I can't remember) rose majestically as my shoulders rose not quite as majestically in another universal expression -- the cringe. The kick was perfect, my aim was true, and my mom, well, my mom just happened to get in the way. After a direct hit on her now red forehead, I knew I was in for it. But, like a dude at a baseball game about to get tasered, I resigned myself to the punishment I deserved. Oh, the things moms put up with.

This won't be a post about how tireless a job parenting is, how thankless it can all seem. It won't be as such because I cannot comprehend how difficult a job it must be. To live and die by your child's minor successes and failures. To feel the competing, sometimes tragic pull between urge to protect and the necessity of stepping back, letting your child experience failure, even if, or perhaps because that failure is preventable. To be a vigorous advocate in the face of adversity. To feel ignored when your child succeeds and blamed when they fail. A punching bag and shoulder to cry on, sometimes at the same time. I won't fully understand these emotions until I have a child of my own (Which, for the above reasons, will not be happening for a long, long time. Not Larry King long, but long all the same. Don't worry, Mom).

This is a post about how I see you, Mom.

In the beginning (but after there was light; oh, I'd say it was around 1986), you were my protector. You probably saved my ass from imminent doom more times than I can count. Because of you, I learned that streets are not for playing, sockets are not for poking, and pants are not for pooping (still working on that one...eek). I've probably said more words to you than anyone else on this planet, with the exception of chatting online during class. Hey, law school is boring! Babies may be born with some sort of rudimentary moral compass, but you were the one who gave me gentle and sometimes not-so-gentle nudges in the "right" direction. You were the infallible, permed giant of my early formative years.

Moms, and sorry Mom, you are no exception, started to lose their aura of "cool" about the time that word became the social currency during middle school. Instead of my friend and confidant, you became dispenser of Doc Martens and Old Navy cargo pants, of Mariah Carey CD's and Mighty Ducks VHS's. And yet you -- not my uncomfortable, clunky German shoes or my diva-rific music -- were the one I still ran to when a coach yelled at me or when I found out I had to go to speech class (those damned R's) or, let's face it, whenever I needed someone to help guide me through that hellish phase of adolescence.

Then came high school.

To be honest, this is more of a continuation of the grade school phase. I guess high school is when shit hits the fan and children rebel? I was probably too busy napping in the basement or going to Denny's to rebel much. What a failure! But, nonetheless, I was beginning to realize that you were cool in your own way, but definitely wasn't convinced of it. Hell, I had a hard enough time with my own conceptualization of cool (Told in excruciating detail in my high school autobiography, My Life Under the Table and Dreaming; or, When Professing One's Love for Dave Matthews Band is Not Enough for Complete Life Fulfillment (And When it Is)). And, as always, I had both feet in the present but my head stuck in my future plans: college. And while you were no longer a giant in comparison to my size (if I remember correctly, I was the giant in high school) you were still a sort of infallible wizard, albeit an uncool one in the eyes of an 18 year old. But, Gandolf and Dumbeldore aside, when are wizards ever cool? And you can't even classify them as cool cool, can you? More old person, does-whatever-they-want cool, right? Anyway, you supported my decision to journey to remote, snowy, jobless Michigan without nary a plea for me to stay closer to home. I knew I'd be back home (it only took 5 years), but I suppose you had to settle with the reality that it'd always be different. That I wouldn't be going home, but rather visiting home.

I've since come to realize, to my initial shock, that you are not the infallible titan I once thought you were -- hell, you don't even have a perm anymore! But this only makes me love you more. Because if an infallible superhero did the job you did, it'd be no big deal. Another notch on their super belt. But that you, an actual human being, flaws and all, did the job you did raising us, makes it all the more impressive. I probably owe you a lifetime of thanks, and one Hallmark holiday per year or a blog post doesn't do you justice. But thanks, Mom, I'll try to kick Little Mermaid balls at your head less often from now on.

06 May 2010

Our Band Could Be Your Life


This is my favorite song off of an amazing, sprawling 1984 album called Double Nickels on the Dime by the band Minutemen. They were around in the early to mid-80's, contemporaries of Minneapolis bands like Husker Du and the Replacements. Seen by some as an advancement of punk and by others as the death of it, Double Nickels on the Dime was perhaps the artistic apex of the genre, which evolved from the chugging chords of the Ramones, to the snarling lyricism of Elvis Costello, to the worldly sound of the Specials and the Clash -- and finally to this, a combination of free-form instrumentals, chugging riffs, and bouncy basslines with an in your face approach that defined punk. While this song, "History Lesson Part 2" is the band at their most subdued, it's a touching homage to influential bands and the camaraderie of being in a band (not unlike LCD Soundsystem's "Losing My Edge" or anything by the Hold Steady, but especially "Certain Songs" and "We Can Get Together").

When people (like me) try to say that the 80's were devoid of good music, bands like Husker Du, the Replacements, the Minutement, the Pixies, REM, and Pavement stand as a testament to the contrary.

"Mr. Narrator: this is Bob Dylan to me, my story could be his songs..."

05 May 2010

Vinyl Blotter, Vol. 1

I go to record stores a lot. If you know me, you know this. There is a singular rush I get, the thrill of finding that perfect record, when I walk in the door. Sometimes I'm looking for something specific, but more often than not, I go in with an open mind and see what I find. The following are some of this week's finds:

1. Hymie's Records
Hymie's Records, off of E. Lake Street, has been in business for as long as I've been alive. But in exciting news, they just opened the doors to a new location, 5 blocks away from their old store. I never went to their old store, but their new one already has that disheveled yet organized feel every record store worth its salt should have. Large, vintage speakers spewing warm, vinyl goodness all over the store from a Pro-ject Debut II turntable (the one I have!) and vinyl spills out every nook and cranny. How did I not know this vinyl utopia existed? For one, blame my recovering, sheltered suburbanite self, -- I'm just now discovering the plethora of great record stores not named Cheapo we have in this city (Treehouse, Roadrunner, Shuga, etc etc.). But the well-stocked Hymie's may be my new favorite. It's not really in a trendy part of town, which I think suits records stores just fine. They should be a destination, not a place you stop off at on the way to Chino Latino. Hymie's will now be a regular  destination for me. Great selection, great vibe, great prices. Where have you been all my life?

2. The Rolling Stones "Beggars Banquet" @ Hymie's
Most Rolling Stones albums in record stores today come from the unfortunate period in many great 60's/70's bands: the 1980's. Nothing is ever really in stock from bands' heydays either because people smartly hold on to these albums or because finding them in good condition some 40 years hence proves to be a difficult task. But my new favorite record store happened to have this album today, to my delight. At first, I thought it was some sort of bootleg -- the album art I'm most familiar with looks like this:
So I was confused when I saw the spare "Beggars Banquet" album staring at me. Apparently the toilet graffiti cover was nixed by record execs (the fools) and the spare, White Album-ish cover was chosen for the original release instead. Beggars Banquet comes from my favorite period of the Stones' career and kicked off a run of albums (Let it Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main St.) over the course of four years that may be paralleled only by the Beatles (Rubber Soul through Abbey Road) and Led Zeppelin (Led Zeppelin through Zoso (or maybe Physical Graffiti if we're feeling charitable)). It's bluesy, it's country, but most of all, it's rock.

3. B.B. King "Back in the Alley: The Classic Blues of B.B. King" & "20/20: Twenty No. 1 Hits from Twenty Years at Motown" @ Hymie's
If you visit me at my apartment (please do!) I will be occupying one of two rooms: the living room or my bedroom. Really, besides the bathroom, that's all my apartment has to offer. But I have a record player in each room. In the living room, you'll find my Pro-ject turntable (with a Grado Green cartridge), my custom made (thanks Dad!) transmission line floor speakers, and my Pioneer (soon to be replaced with a Marantz!) receiver. This is the good system. In my bedroom, you'll find an old receiver, bookshelf speakers, and a donated record player (thanks Uncle Herb!). I reserve the bedroom system for older records that I can just play in the background. Well, this is the room the B.B. King and Motown albums were headed for. Until I listened to them. "Back in the Alley" has some really great music on it, from "Paid the Cost to be the Boss" to "Lucille," a song written about his beloved guitar. The Motown album has classic singles from the Jackson 5, Diana Ross, Marvin Gaye, and Stevie Wonder. I might put it next to my Supremes Anthology for when I'm feeling all Motown-y. Point of this entry: sometimes the cheapest, "throwaway" records are really the hidden jewels, ready for the big show (the living room player) kind of like Wilson Ramos.

03 May 2010

Sticks and stones

He was a genuinely nice kid, smart and really good at soccer. Of course, this meant that the only way to get at him was for things -- a nervous tic -- that were out of his control. An apparent weakness we opportunistic 7th graders mercilessly ragged on him for. And as he ran down the busy street at recess with the PE teacher/recess monitor ambling after him, her whistle jangling, I felt a stab of regret -- was I responsible for this? If he gets hit by a car, will I go to jail? Is my life over? Am I some monster? Granted, at the time, my fears were rooted in self preservation, but looking back on it now, it was a defining experience in how I interacted with my classmates from that point on. The recess monitor finally caught up to my classmate as he crumpled to his knees, sobbing at the street corner. I wasn't put in jail and neither were my co-conspirators, all we got was a week inside during recess.

I've felt myself reminiscing more and getting more and more disheartened lately as I read about the tragic suicides of teenagers (here here) who were quite literally bullied to death. Some blame the rise of social media for this spate of deaths, and while it's a significant factor, bullying has been a staple of teenage life long before Myspace, texting, and Facebook. That many of my friends state categorically that middle/high school was a generally horrible, awkward experience suggests that bullying is also not a limited phenomenon. And while it's dangerous to make broad proclamations, I'll make one here: bullies almost never succeed in real life, but the bullied rise to be some of the most successful people around. Of course, there are exceptions, and it's imperfect to label someone either a "bully" or "bullied" since the Venn diagram of the two very much overlap, but think about some of the most successful people: President Obama, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, almost any artist -- you think these people were the most popular kids growing up? Think again.

This post is more about embracing quirkiness than it is a prescription to defeat bullies. It's cold comfort to tell someone being bullied that it'll all get better, that high school is a bad time for almost everyone, that you'll show those bullies a thing or two at the 10 year reunion when you're a successful engineer, designer, artist, what have you and they're working a dead-end job somewhere, but it's true. Thing is, the only way to discover this is through another cliche, through experience. More broad generalizations/advice forthcoming: bullies are insecure in their social positions, in how others perceive them. This is why they listen to the "cool" music that "cool" kids listen to. They dress in that same manufactured cool that everyone else does too. If you ever find yourself looking down at your dorky Chucks as you listen to Bavarian hymnals, don't fret -- turn it up! Embrace the quirk.

Remember that curiosity and wide-ranging interests will open up so many more doors in your life than will bland, cowardly conformity. Even though conformity might get a childhood bully into the board room (ahem, Goldman Sachs), they won't be happy, they won't live a fulfilling life, and they'll be constantly looking over their shoulders for you -- they'll covet your independence and originalism. They might even try to buy your ideas and market them as their own, but the public can see through that fraud.

My best advice is to seek out those who share the same interests as you. Start a chess club. Or a World of Warcraft club. Or spend an afternoon digging through dusty crates of vinyl records. Life is better with people to experience it with.

In 10 years, you can have the last laugh. My bullied classmate (after some stellar facebook sleuthing) is now getting a masters degree in mechanical engineering. His bullies...are not. Ha ha, indeed.