A Guide to New Orleans for My West Virginia Friends

(Written March 11, 2011.)

I am writing this note at the suggestion of Heather. A lot of these things aren’t unique to me, so I won’t claim original thought. But I’m betting a few of my FB friends might read one of my notes who won’t read Frommer’s. A few general points.

1. First, the name of the city is pronounced “Noo Ohr’-luhns” – just like it’s spelled. You can say “New Orleenz” if you’re singing it. Don’t say “N’awlins.” Everyone will think you’re a tool.

2. It’s okay to wear beads on Mardi Gras. In fact, it’s de rigueur. You can also feel free to wear beads gotten at other parades: Easter, St. Patrick’s, New Years. That’s it.

3. You should go to Bourbon Street to see it, but don’t spend too long. You will leave appreciably more stupid. And wear shoes. That’s not a gentle mist that has covered the street.

4. The easiest way to be hip in New Orleans is to be your loosest, most funky self, whoever that is. They will accept anyone – grandmas, hipsters, losers, gang bangers, etc. The easiest way to be cool is to realize you already are. (This is actually true everywhere.)

5. Don’t eat at any restaurant that has another location outside of New Orleans.

6. They like music in New Orleans, especially music from New Orleans. Try to learn something about it before you go. You will have a better time if you know who Louis Armstrong, Professor Longhair and Kermit Ruffins were/are.

7. They also like a lot of non-New Orleans music, like Sam Cooke, Al Green and James Brown.

8. Abita Beer is good, but more people drink Bud Light. Sad, but true. Don’t drink Dixie.

9. Put hot sauce on everything. Crystal is the best.

10. It’s okay to ask the band to play “When the Saints Go Marching In,” but you better tip them. A lot.

11. Always tip the band. They’ll bring a bucket around and sing a special song for you when it’s time to tip the band. The song is called, “Tip the Band.”

12. It helps to know the words to a few songs, and not ones you might guess. “It’s All Over Now,” by Bobby Womack and popularized by the Rolling Stones, is a favorite of everyone’s, as is “I’ll Fly Away.” It helps to learn a few local favorites, especially from the brass bands, like, “I Feel Like Funkin’ It Up” and “Do Watcha Wanna.”

13. “Do Watcha Wanna” is the only rule on Mardi Gras Day.

14. Mardi Gras is Tuesday. While a lot of people call the whole season “Mardi Gras,” most will say “Carnival.”

15. The language that used to be spoken in New Orleans was French. Then it was something called French Creole, which mixes in a little Spanish and some West African languages. This means two things:

a. You can expect to see some signs and menus in French. This should not shock you.

b. The “French” you read will not be recognizable by any native Francophone and trying to use your high school French to figure pronunciation is pretty pointless. “Chartres” is pronounced “Charters.”

16. Musicians in New Orleans don’t think in the same categories as they do in many other places. Asking if a band plays “jazz,” won’t get you a straight answer. Everyone plays jazz, even the country bands. They also play soul, hip-hop, gospel, rock, punk and anything else you might want to hear.

17. People in New Orleans like to party. I’m being serious here. Now, I don’t mean “party” as in get drunk with three people and throw up. I mean, drink, stay out all night and dance with strangers until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning. On a Wednesday.

18. Wear a costume on Mardi Gras. Seriously. It is appreciated and you won’t stick out.

19. Go somewhere besides the French Quarter. I mean, go there, too, it’s fun. But catch a street car and go see Rebirth at the Maple Leaf or take the ferry to Algiers.

20. Don’t give money to any white kids with dreadlocks. That’s a $600 banjo that kid is playing. Let him go join Dexy’s Midnight Runners or dip into his trust fund.

21. If someone approaches you and needs “$11 for a hotel for the night,” don’t give it to him. He’s hustling you.

22. If someone offers to guess “where you got your shoes,” he’s hustling you. The answer is, “You got them on your feet.”

23. New Orleans is one of the few places you can order certain cocktails and not get mocked. Pimm’s Cup, Gin Fizz, Sazerac and Rum Punch are all favorites.

24. On the other hand, don’t order a Hurricane or a Hand Grenade if you are over 22.

25. Don’t argue with bartenders. Actually, don’t do this anywhere. If the place doesn’t have Coors Light, it’s not because they don’t carry “good beer.”

26. Do not be alarmed if an insect crosses the bar where you are sitting.

27. In New Orleans, fun trends never go out of style. People in clubs still “put their hands in the air and shake them like they just don’t care,” and you can expect to hear, “The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire!”

28. Not everyone is Cajun in New Orleans. In fact, almost no one is Cajun. Cajuns are from the country.

29. No one wants to hear you opine about Katrina. On the other hand, anyone you meet will be happy to tell their Katrina story.

30. New Orleans-themed attire, especially Saints tees, never goes out of style.

Twenty Books My Twin Sister Should Read

(Written January 4, 2011)
Sarah,
You asked me for a list of books I would recommend to you that “cause [you] to view the world from a different perspective,” my “top twenty or so.” I want you to know that I have taken this responsibility very seriously. Please guard this list carefully. Possession of this list may lead to your moral decline or possibly your excommunication (I’m actually not joking on that one.) You won’t find any Elizabeth George or William P. Young here. There is nothing that ranks as pornographic literature, though some King-James Only proponents might disagree. The list is ranked according firstly to how different the perspective is from your own and secondly how enjoyable and/or informative the book is.
You may want to get a scotch, neat, to drink while you read.

1. Preacher by Garth Ennis. A “graphic novel” (i.e., comic book) that you can buy in nine paperback volumes, Preacher is about a preacher (!) who loses his faith due to being possessed by the offspring of an angel and a demon. To say that most people would consider this comic blasphemous would be an understatement. (Hint: the villain is an omnipotent deity.)
2. Hip: The History by John Leland. I recommend everyone read this book. This book chronicles the concept of hip in the conflict between West Africans and Western Europeans in America, beginning with minstrelsy and ending with trucker caps. By the way, there is another John Leland who authored some minor Calvinistic Baptist works in the 17th century. This one writes for Rolling Stone.
3. Pimp by Iceberg Slim. A memoir that teaches you the best qualities of a “bottom bitch” and why you shouldn’t have sex with your own prostitutes unless they pay you. I bet no one in your church has read this.
4. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. I’m reading this now. Violent and Pelagian. The book ends more upbeat than the movie.
5. A Confederacy of Dunces by Jonathan Kennedy O’Toole. Set in the French Quarter, so you know I love it. The protagonist is a fat medievalist who lives with his mom and has a faulty pyloric valve. A really good way to learn how weird New Orleans is.
6. Watchmen by Alan Moore. Another comic, this one the great American novel, written by an Englishman. This one flips the concept of heroes on its head, with the good guys committing rape and genocide. I like the ending of the movie better (Craig Calcaterra will probably bash me for that) but the book is great.
7. The Biography of Malcolm X by Alex Haley. Yes, the guy who wrote Roots. Malcolm Little starts out as a hustler in Harlem, then converts to Nation of Islam, then finally to traditional Islam. Another one that’s probably not on your church’s book table.
8. Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. Have you read this? Christians hate it because it uses the word “g**d**” (and yes, it’s spelled with just six letters). (Btw – I edited that to spare your church friends on your FB. I’m that gracious.) You have to read it just because it gets banned so much. Just don’t kill Paul or Ringo.
9. Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist. What’s scarier than vampires? Child vampires – that are Swedish!! This book is great. It’s really about how awful it is to be an adolescent. Just make sure you get the English translation. Unless you speak Swedish.
10. Seymour: An Introduction/Raise High the Roofbeam Carpenters by J.D. Salinger. Another Glass family book (actually two in one).  Family dysfunction that is witty and dark.
11. Miles: An Autobiography by Miles Davis. The first page has the sentence, “Ella Fitzgerald was a m*****f*****.” Do you really need another reason to read this?
12. Chronicles, Volume One by Bob Dylan. This guy has had a really interesting life. When he gets bored with who he is, he just decides he’s someone else. Non-chronological, which is nice.
13. Post Office by Charles Bukowski. The opposite of the Puritan work ethic.
14. Catalog of Cool by Gene Sculatti. Really a catalog. Find out why Hostess cupcakes are cooler than Twinkies.
15. The Joe Pitt series by Charlie Huston. A five-book series. A cross between a horror novel and a noir crime thriller. The coolest vampire.
16. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby. Losers who are obsessed with records. And making lists. Nothing like your twin brother. (The movie is great, too, if you haven’t seen it, though it’s set in Chicago.)
17. A Good and Happy Child by Justin Evans. Set in a fictional Virginia town that closely resembles Lexington, this book is just frightening. Childhood demon possession.
18. Cash: The Autobiography of Johnny Cash by Johnny Cash. I love this book because it says stuff like (paraphrasing from memory), “I’ve been touring for forty years and the only thing that has changed is that forty years ago they didn’t have extra crispy.” And he loves every American president.
19. The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler. My favorite noir. I love Chandler’s prose. A sample: "He was a guy who talked with commas, like a heavy novel. Over the phone anyway."
20. Songbook by Nick Hornby. Nonfiction. I read this in one setting. Basically a list of songs and why he likes them.

Athenians, Spartans & Philistines

(Written December 10, 2010)

Do you remember studying Athens and Sparta in high school? The two most powerful of the Greek city-states fought the Peloponnesian War and represented to the modern imagination the two sides of human nature. The Spartans were masculine, disciplined, truculent, martial and unreflective. The Athenians, on the other hand, were more androgynous, free-spirited, peaceful, artistic and philosophical. This contrast seemed to fire the modern imagination and its love of dualism. The truth was more complex, of course, as it always is. Yet it was easy to classify personalities as fundamentally Athenian or Spartan. Custer was Spartan. Thoreau was Athenian. MacArthur was Spartan. Einstein was Athenian. Stalin was Spartan. Solzhenitsyn was Athenian. Nixon was Spartan. Lennon was Athenian. You get the picture.

It’s really not hard to see who the good guys are on the list. I mean, I know General MacArthur helped save civilization from totalitarianism and fascism. Yet one suspects that civilizations are built by the thinkers, not the warriors. As an artist, it’s pretty easy to see one’s role, too. There are several of my friends who serve in military bands (and God bless you Mike, Chris, Jeff, Kelly and the rest), but it’s hard to imagine myself going through basic training or wearing khakis every day. I find myself much more comfortable around people with nose rings and police records.

When I was young, someone pointed out to me that every city in the world named Athens has an institution of higher education. This was meant as tribute to this ancient culture of thinkers. I can’t think of any cities named Sparta. That’s not to say there aren’t any, just that the name is much less common. I suppose that when one founds a city, one would rather think of the foundations being philosophical than militaristic.

Yet, there is still one realm where the name of that ancient city is frequently invoked. You’ve already thought of it, I’m sure. The Spartan is still one of the favorite mascots of public high schools and colleges all across our country. Along with that other greaves-and-helmet-wearing mascot, the Trojan (the Crip to the Spartan’s Blood), the Spartan seems one of the least likely emblems of institutions dedicated to the life of the mind. So . . . what’s he doing there?

We seem uncomfortable in our country with those who spend their time thinking, discussing, creating art, writing or making scientific discoveries. Well, unless they beat someone else doing it. Then it’s okay. Glee is the most popular television show in America right now, and while I do enjoy Jane Lynch and its occasionally dark sense of humor, I doubt anyone would be watching if they were performing madrigal dinners. The story line is driven by the sense of competition. The students must compete with each other for chances in the spotlight. The teachers compete for resources and students. The choir is gearing up for the big state competition. And so on.

To many it seems downright un-American to suggest that one choose intellectual pursuits simply for their own enjoyment. There is something a little queer, isn’t there, in wanting to just sit around playing a saxophone or something? I mean, people don’t just read a book anymore do they? And writing poetry?! Shit. Why don’t you just wear a dress, boy?

I’ve been sickened for years at this strain of pure anti-intellectualism in schools. Think about that one for a second: anti-intellectualism in schools. We want schools to be places where students learn to think, yet we stigmatize the very act. Somehow we want them to spend all their time lifting weights and chasing tail but leave school smart enough to solve the world’s problems. I have sat in teacher meetings where veteran teachers admitted proudly to not having read a book in years. I have heard teachers ridicule other teachers for being such “know-it-alls.” That’s like Usain Bolt being mocked at the Olympics for running so fast. You’re supposed to be smart if you’re a teacher, dumb ass!! You’re supposed to know more than most of the kids, you’re supposed to encourage their questions, you’re supposed to help them love learning. If you don’t love learning, please do something else.

Being good at a sport that no one plays outside the U.S. does not qualify you to be a teacher. Using class time to free associate and espouse your personal religious or political beliefs does not constitute sound pedagogy. Your hobbies – scrapbooking, fly-fishing, quilting, NASCAR – do not constitute a curriculum. (I know: teachers shouldn’t be expected to check their personal ideologies at the door of the school and scrapbooking, fly-fishing, quilting and NASCAR can be used to raise student interest. I get it. But is that all you’re planning for the whole school year?)

In the arts we often refer to another ancient culture, the Philistines. To call someone a Philistine is to imply that he is uncultured or uneducated or demonstrates remarkably poor taste. Now, the Philistines make one lone appearance in ancient literature of which I am aware, and that is in the Old Testament of the Bible. You will probably remember them from the battle between David and Goliath. Almost nothing is known of their culture. Yet it is assumed that a culture that celebrates war and brute strength would not cherish the arts and letters.

The irony is this: the culture that cherishes winning over learning is the culture that loses. The shepherd-boy David, who played the harp and wrote songs, went on to be king in a very great nation that shaped the Western world. Goliath lives only in infamy. (How many Goliaths do you think are starting kindergarten this year?)

For you artistic Davids out there, remember that one small stone can fell a giant, if placed just right. We may not always win, but history is on our side.

If You Can Read This, So What?

(Written November 30, 2010)

There was this bumper sticker that was going around a couple of years ago that I never really got. It showed this musical staff with a few measures of fairly-complicated piano scoring in it and a caption that read: “If you can read this, thank a music teacher!” I never really got it, because I always wondered what the point was exactly. Was I supposed to be thankful if I could read the music and perform it on the piano? Or if I could simply read it and imagine it rendered in my head? Or if I could just identify the notes on the staff?

I was thinking about this today after a conversation I had with a music teacher.

The music teacher in question was discussing a project he is working on and where it might fall in his curriculum. He suggested that, since the project would involve improvisation, he would teach it later, after he had covered the “fundamentals”: quarter notes, half notes, “Every Good Boy Does Fine,” etc.

I suggested that he might rethink his approach. “You know,” I offered, “Muddy Waters or Louis Armstrong never read music at all and they were great improvisers.”

“Don’t say that around my kids!” he shot back. “They all tell me they are all great ‘drummers’ but they can’t read the first note. I say to them, ‘Don’t insult my education. I had to go to college to become a musician.’”

After checking my iPhone to make sure it was still 2010, all I could do was offer, “I suppose that’s one viewpoint.”

How is it possible that we still think this way, arts teachers? Why do we still have the cart before the horse? How many more generations of young artists will leave school being taught they aren’t dancers or actors or musicians or artists? How many of them will watch their creative urges die and learn to hate the arts and arts classes.

Let me say this emphatically, as perhaps the only article of faith I have left: all human beings are creative and all are born artists. We may teach them craft, but creativity is something they bring with them to the classroom. We may nurture that creativity or we may kill it, but the urge is inherent in all of Adam’s children.

We have elevated craft over art for so long in the classroom, belittling students who show any real creativity. We laugh at them, tell them to stop screwing around or even punish them when they invent, compose, improvise, doodle . . . anything they don’t get from us, we instantly devalue. Why?

Honestly, I think it is rooted in our own insecurity. We are, each one of us, very insecure beings who fear being thought stupid or inept. This is easy to recognize in the students we teach. They are frightened to take a chance, mostly because they don’t want others to see they aren’t super groovy or brilliant or strong or whatever. Or maybe they are afraid that others will see that thing in them they have been hiding from the world for so long. Guess what? Teachers are the exact same way. We don’t like it when students learn that we don’t know the answers. Worse, we hate it when students know something we don’t. Our solution to the problem is simple. If we have a student who can sit at the piano and play for hours on end without looking at the first bit of paper, we say, “You mean you’re just playing by ear?!” If they can rattle off the lyrics from every single Eminem record, we say, “Rap isn’t music!” You get the picture.

The result is a stifling environment, for students certainly, but for teachers, too. Who can live with that pressure? Not only do I have to be better than I know that I am, but I have to be better than the other 30 human beings in the room? I have to know more? My skill level has to exceed theirs in every area?

Ken Robinson said, in his now-famous TED talk, “I don’t mean to say that being wrong is the same thing as being creative. What we do know is, if you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original . . . And by the time they get to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity.”

Can we change that? Can we make our classrooms places where creativity is nurtured and praised? Can we build secure environments where we value the contributions of our students? Can you begin to imagine that?

If you are an arts teacher in West Virginia, I have a special message for you. Starting today, I grant you permission to be wrong. Admit you don’t know something. Tell a student s/he is better at something than you. I will still love you. And your students will love you. Maybe even more than they do now.

The Meta-Problem in Education That No One is Talking About

(Written October 2, 2010)

My new gig is going reasonably well, for anyone who is interested. I think we are making some progress in arts education in West Virginia, though really it is too early to tell. All the Debbie Downers among my friends tell me that nothing is going to change, nothing ever has changed, a proposition that is demonstrably false. Others seem surprised that in the two months I've been working for the West Virginia Department of Education that I’ve not doubled arts funding in every county and fixed everyone’s schedules. Both of those issues are pretty far from my control, but I’m doing what I can. As predicted, I do miss teaching. That’s no surprise to anyone, least of all myself. I just hope that the work I am doing will yield some results over the coming years. Building 6 is a remarkably less stimulating environment than the music classroom and I will return to it if I don’t see fruits from my labors in the coming two or three years.

A lot of the work I am doing is self-directed. I see a problem that I want to fix and I try to address it the best way I can. To that end, we (and I’m using the plural pronoun there literally, not like the papal “we”) are working on issues like our dance certification, art and music teachers in every elementary school, professional development for administrators on arts education, and more. Other tasks get assigned to me, either because I show an interest in them or because I’m the new kid on the block and it’s easy to give me assignments. So I’m on a committee for promoting student engagement, answering questions about the issue of creativity in the classroom, meeting with a work group dedicated to parental involvement and serving as a liaison from WVDE to the Martin Luther King Celebration planning committee. Still other jobs are handed to me because someone else sees their importance and thinks I’m the one to do them. These are the trickiest ones, because they seem to take up a lot of time and sometimes I’m not entirely sure that my skills are matched to the task. I’m working on one like that right now.

The Office of Instruction has been asked to provide professional development sessions at an upcoming Title I conference for educational leaders from around the state. These would be primarily principals and superintendents, I believe. My session is being co-presented with our Science Coordinator. It is entitled, “Why You Should Still Teach Science, Social Studies and the Arts.” Take a minute and let that sink in. Got it? Jack Deskins, who has spent most of his professional life teaching teenagers how to finger concert A-natural is charged with convincing educational leaders that the core academic subjects of science, social studies and the arts are important enough for children to learn. For those of you not from the greater Bridgeport area, I will try to explain.

For schools to make Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP), the federal measure that determines if yours is a failing school, certain data is collected. Specifically, states test their students using some sort of nationally-normed, standardized instrument. In West Virginia, ours is called the Westest. The Westest purports to measure academic achievement in English, math, science and social studies – most of the core academic subjects (ahem). Yet for purposes of federal accountability, only English and math data are used. The thinking behind that is . . . well, honestly I have no idea. Someone in the federal government believed (and still does) that literacy and numeracy are the only skills that matter. Not only that, but only those English and math skills that can be readily measured on a standardized test matter (“No sonnets for you, Jimmy!!!”).

A few weeks ago, the Board of Education in Harrison County, West Virginia, made a startling announcement. Well, startling for anyone who does not understand cause and effect. They announced that they would no longer be teaching science and social studies to their elementary students. Their reasoning (tee hee) went like this: since the federal government only requires minimal language and math scores to make AYP, we are going to pour all of our efforts into those two academic areas. (Interestingly, they did not mention the arts. I am assuming that Harrison County will continue its practice of offering minimal arts instruction to its elementary students.)

Now your humble narrator and one of his stalwart colleagues are charged with changing the minds of those who might follow this questionable practice.

I could talk about this issue specifically at length. That there are those in positions of educational leadership who do not view the potential loss of culture, the scientific method and law as significant seems beyond distressing. But as I was preparing my session for this week, another issue seems to loom larger.

Suppose for a moment that you are a principal or superintendent looking at your low language and math scores and wondering how you are going to address the problem. What skills are you going to use? Well, it will require analysis and critical thinking to understand the meaning of the data and the attendant issues. It will require collaboration as you seek to maximize human resources in your office and in your school(s). And it will require imagination, creativity and problem-solving skills as you look for new solutions. After all, simply doing the same thing you have always done is not working.

In other words, you will need that 21st Century skill set that we know our students need in the world they will inhabit when they leave our classrooms. We recognize that our students will not succeed if they possess only those basal skills that an educational framework rooted in the Industrial Revolution is designed to provide. (Incidentally, those basal skills are still the only skills that standardized tests are able to measure.) Most of our students cannot leave high school and go to jobs in the mines and factories. Most of those jobs have been lost to automation and Asia (read Dan Pink).

The problem of poor-performing schools is a 21st Century problem. I do not mean to imply that it is new this century, merely that the problem itself is a classic example of one requiring those skills. The “meta-problem” is that most of our administrators have a skill set rooted in the 20th century. That is to say, many of them may have scored well on both the verbal and math on the SAT. It doesn’t matter. They lack the ability to think critically, collaborate, solve complex problems, imagine and use creativity. These are just the skills necessary if we hope to have students who can think critically, collaborate, solve complex problems, imagine and use creativity.

This is why those educational leaders do not understand the problem they are facing. Let me give you an example.

If you were an administrator, you might intuitively believe that the solution to low reading comprehension would be to drill students on words and definitions. Your intuition would be wrong. Students do not acquire language through word banks, although most of us can remember weekly spelling and definition tests all through our education. How do they learn words and their meanings? Through experience. Let me illustrate further.

A child might first encounter a spiral looking at a snail shell. She would note the pleasing shape and might even be interested enough to attempt to reproduce it through drawing. Then she might visit a building with a spiral staircase and something in her mind would connect the shape to the snail and the drawing she made. In science class at school, she might see diagrams of a geological time spiral or pictures of spiral galaxies. When she encountered the definition of spiral – “A curve on a plane that winds around a fixed center point at a continuously increasing or decreasing distance from the point” – that sentence would have meaning for her, rooted as it was in her prior knowledge. Later, when she encountered spiral algorithms in math or read a sentence that said, “His life was a downward spiral,” those experiences would deepen her understanding of what those six letters could mean. If she encountered a piece of music where the composer tried to create the feeling of a spiral descent, she would recognize it. You could probably add to these experiences.

Jung believed that the purpose of life was to create meaning. At their best, schools are places where students learn habits of mind and symbol systems that allow them to find and create meaning in their world. If we have administrators who fail to recognize this, then schools will continue to teach children a minimal set of increasingly irrelevant skills. The meta-problem facing our schools is not a lack of skills, it is a lack of imagination.

Credo

This was originally written in September of 2010.  I have revised it several times.

1. All of us are on a continuum, a “journey,” and our understanding should evolve as we go.  Although it is a cliché, I realize at this point in my life that I know a lot less than I thought I did, so everything on this list is subject to change.  As Notorious B.I.G. may have said, “A motherfucker’s a work in progress.” 

2. An idea is the most powerful thing in the world.  Consider Plato, Paul, Copernicus, Martin Luther, or Ornette Coleman.

3. New ideas are threatening to those in power.  Consider Socrates, Jesus, Galileo, Martin Luther King, or Shostakovich.

4. Almost all American music has its roots in the South.  Even Motown.

5. Colleges are great places because there are big libraries and free concerts, plays, exhibits and lectures.  The problem is that no one goes to any of those things.  As Frank Zappa wrote, “If you want to get laid, go to college.  If you want an education, go to the library.”

6. New Orleans is the most interesting city in the United States, probably the world. 

7. Politics are important. Art is more important.

8. Demand more art.  Demand it from our political, social, and cultural institutions, but demand it most of all from yourself.

9. Music is better than just about anything else.  Art, the theatre, dance and books are tied for second.

10. It is much easier to love someone when you hear their story, and it is nearly impossible to hate someone when you eat with them.  

11. Travel makes people better.  

12. If you’re not trying to make life better, more comfortable, or hipper, you’re wasting your time.  In the words of Hugh MacLeod, “Change the world or go home.”

13. Eat and drink whatever you please, whenever it pleases you. The only people who are impressed by what you eat or drink are the types of people who are impressed by what others eat and drink.

14. The idea that wisdom comes with age is bullshit.  Death comes with age.  There are lots of old fools walking around.

15. If no one thinks you’re hip, you probably aren’t.  If everyone thinks you’re hip, you definitely aren’t.

16. Small talk is for people who have nothing worth saying.  Most conversations should broach religion, politics, education, or art.

17. If no one has ever threatened to hurt you for something you’ve said, you probably haven’t said much worth hearing.

18. Human beings are inherently artistic and the urge to create cannot be suppressed by your despotic religion, political party, school or family.  Some people think this is the image of the Divine in us, while some believe it is an evolutionary impulse – but either way, it is there.

19. There is real evil in this world.  Anyone who says otherwise is either deluded or lying.  There is a reason we have nightmares from the time we are babies.  Most of us carry it around with us all day long.

20. Anyone who mocks American culture is an idiot.  In music alone America has given the world blues, country, bluegrass, jazz, rock and roll, soul, funk, disco, hip hop, punk, grunge and more.  None of those things could have happened anywhere else.

21. About 80% of the world’s great cultural achievements were a result of human misery and oppression (see #4, #6 and #20 above).  The other 20% happened in Florence.

22. If all of your friends think like you do, it probably means you’re dull, a bigot, or both.

23. Everyone should own a recording of Beethoven’s 9th.  I mean, there are “great” recordings and all, but even the bad recordings are usually really good.  And cheap.

24. Racism is still one of America's biggest problems.  This falls under: “Sow the wind and reap the whirlwind.”

25. You shouldn't wait until you are 37 to get a tattoo.  But if you do, you should try and make up for lost time very quickly.

26. You should ignore most life advice from friends and family, unless it resonates with you.  They are often motivated by their desire to keep you safe, which paradoxically may keep you from being happy. Ignore about 99.9% of advice given by teachers, pastors, school principals, and politicians.  Most of them aren't thinking about your future happiness at all.

27. A lot of people say they believe the Bible and even quote it to support their opinions.  Almost no one has actually read it.

28. Don't selectively quote others to support your opinions. Anyone who has said anything worth hearing has left a body of work and anything they said should be understood within that conext.

29. If you can’t stand what you are doing, do something else.  No one can make that decision for you.  Stop being a cliché.

30. Singing is central to the human experience.  If you don’t sing regularly, you are preventing yourself from being fully human.

31. About 90% of the things people do are motivated by their insecurities.  This is just an average.  It’s actually 93% for me.

32. Life is absurdly angular, irregular, messy, complicated, and mysterious.  I've stopped listening to anyone who offers linear narratives to the universe: all the evidence points to something contrary.  There is birth and death and love and hate and joy and pain and fear and boldness and just plain weirdness in myriad combinations, and we try to use the tools we have to make sense of it.  Sometimes we can. Other times just leave us puzzled and hoping for the best.

33. “Plan B” is usually better than “Plan A.”  We’re typically forced into “Plan B” because something in our life or experience or personality doesn’t resonate with our current path.  This doesn’t necessarily mean we made the wrong decision to begin with, it’s just that circumstances – and people – can change.  It also doesn’t mean that it is not exceptionally painful.

34. Plans C, D, E, F, G, and H can be pretty good, too.

35. Everything that happens to us makes us who we are.  To wish away our pain is to wish that we were someone else.

36. Love comes in lots of ways.  We should be open to it every time we encounter it.

37. Each of us has different faces we show – to friends, family, colleagues, children, authority, and lovers – and they are all true. It is at times most difficult to show your true self to family, for fear of disappointing them, causing them pain, or invoking their anger.  Paradoxically, they are the ones most likely to accept us when they see our true selves.  

38. Most cultural institutions – schools, governments, churches, etc. – are committed to the express purpose of suppressing in us what comes most naturally.  Sometimes these “natural” urges are destructive and merit suppression.  Sometimes they just violate social mores and are a threat to those in power.  

39. Those who hold power over others rarely, if ever, relinquish it willingly.

40. America is a police state.  The police in this country are overwhelmingly corrupt and committed to the violation of the rights of her citizens. This, coupled with the increasing militarization of our police force has led to an untenable situation.

41. Our government is, by and large, completely corrupt. For some it is "hard corruption," the sort of thing you imagine when you hear the word: vote buying, extortion, perhaps even murder. For most it is "soft corruption," however: serving at the behest of PACs or party bosses, corporate interests, or others, rather than citizens.

42. Socialism is the most underrated and the most reasonable form of government there is.

43. Our ancestors committed the self-same sins we have, though the accepted narrative may lead us to believe otherwise.  

44. There are lots of ways for things to be true.  Scientific truth is not the same as artistic truth, mathematical truth is not the same as metaphysical truth, and so on.

45. Stories help us understand the world.  This is why books are so important.  No one will end their life thinking they’ve read too much.

46. Most people believe that they are not creative.  This is not true.  Our educational systems lead people to this conclusion through the systematic suppression of the creative urge and the express teaching that creativity is the realm of the exceptional or the super-gifted.  Many of the problems we face as a culture could be solved if we cultivated a creative disposition in students.

47. Our educational system has also done an exceptionally poor job of helping us learn to weigh evidence and make decisions.  We give lip service to “critical thinking,” but if we are not prepared to challenge our own presuppositions and biases, there is nothing “critical” about it.

48. Most people believe the things they do without any evidence that they are true.  Maybe it's just that our beliefs reinforce our own prejudices, or maybe it's just laziness.  Much lip service is given to questioning received wisdom, but not many of us ever will.

49. The smartest people in the world read constantly, experience life fully, travel frequently, and talk to everyone they can.  A few of them have college degrees. 

50. Everyone should dance more.

51. If you ask someone what the best of day of his life was, he usually will say something like, "The day my son was born."  It makes me wonder what sort of terrible children they raised.

52. Human beings have enormous capacities, though we suffer on the one hand from romantic notions about those and on the other from crass cynicism masquerading as wisdom.  We expect too little from ourselves and others, and we are worse as a race for it.

53. Everyone is the central character in his or her own life story.  We like to imagine that others play supporting roles and that there are occasional cameos, but this is just arrogance.  If we could just stop and listen more . . . life can be really wondrous at times.

54. There is a great deal of wisdom to be had from the world's books of religion and mythology, if read correctly. If read literally and in an ethical vacuum, they may be the source of bigotry. Read with imagination, they may be liberating. It may be that Satan is the chief hero of the Bible.

55. Jesus is dead. It seems incredibly irrational to believe otherwise.

56. Ain't nothin' better in this whole wide world than rock-and-roll music and a fat-bottomed girl.