On Speedo and chakras
I watched a humorous, slice-of-life documentary tonight titled Speedo. I found this in the new release section of Rentertainment, and just couldn't pass up a documentary subtitled "A Demolition Derby Love Story". I've been burned a lot recently on indie films, but this one was a keeper. I'd place it right up there with Okie Noodling, the documentary on the art of noodling (catching 60-pound catfish with your bare hands) that was scored by The Flaming Lips. Speedo follows Ed "Speedo" Jager, demolition driver extraordinaire, on his quest to earn a national rep, take home a purse that'll put food on the table, split with his long-estranged wife, raise two sons (one the frontkid of a hardcore band), and marry the love of his post-divorce life. It's a snapshot of a hick soul that many of us educated folk might call "fucked up". But, when taken for what it is, Speedo's life actually has a true, almost Walden-like ring to it. Not to say that Speedo has been misunderstood and hence has obtained greatness, but rather that Speedo has reduced his life to a pursuit of happiness that is both simplistic and honest—even if for him happiness is found when slamming his '76 Caddy into other pieces of junk in front of a WWF-like crowd of bystanders. I dunno, rent it and see what you think.
Speaking of Walden, I found my copy from high school in my parent's basement over "Thanksgiving vacation" along with the Basic Writings of Nietzsche. Man, it's been a while.
Now, not to get all transcendental on your ass, but I've been thinking a lot about meditation lately at the bequest of a few people. I'm just not down with meditation, even though at its core it can be summed up as nothing more than conscious relaxation—focusing on one's breathing in an attempt to clear one's mind of all thoughts and distractions. And, I'm totally down with that. But, I just can't imagine having any success at it, especially given the fact that I find the whole practice to be incredibly hippie—and not in a charming way. I know that getting over my preconceived notions of what is and what is not "hippie"—and whether "hippie" is a mostly good or evil thing to begin with—would probably do me some good. But, that's a pretty big hurdle to clear for someone that fears the smell of patchouli, astrology, bootlegged Dead concerts, and barefoot, beflowered people alike. (Yes, it's true that I do value certain hippy principles, like activism, a love of the environment and a fondness for music and the arts.) Still, the search for inner rest and relaxation has become more of an intrigue as I grow older and still more restless. So, maybe I'm becoming a rare non-drug-using, bathing, meat-eating hippie in my old age. To be continued, I suppose.
Back on point, I'm interested specifically in determining whether I can meditate to rock music, cause I'm just too much of a self-conscious music snob to be down with listening to the sound of waves gently lapping at a shore while I meditate. I'd like to think that when I listen to certain kinds of non-ambient music—from acoustic blues-folk like John Fahey and spooky art-folk like Movietone to hypnotic neo-psychedlic rock like Dead Meadow or abrasive Daydream Nation-era Sonic Youth—I'm able to reach a sort of inner stillness. Through my mind's devotion to the sounds emanating from the headphones, I'm able to lose my grasp on other common thoughts, and in doing so create a mental environment that one would equate on a surface level with the act of meditation.
Certain forms of rock music do seem to allow me to "escape" from my current mental environment, to relinquish whatever thoughts I might be consumed with at that moment and turn off my brain. When I was younger I used to listen to music through headphones every night as I was attempting to fall asleep. For some, this would only stimulate their brain and prevent the necessary shutdown that gives way to sleep. But for me, it worked like a novel aphrodisiac, slowing down my thoughts to the point that I could simply become consumed in the music I was listening to. The relaxation that resulted would send me off to sleep in a swift fashion.
While I haven't spent much time thinking about it until now, I wonder if what was happening to me at that moment could be deemed quite similar to meditation. More importantly, I wonder if it's possible to successfully meditate to non-ambient music, in specific rock music. My brief stint spent researching the topic hasn't proven this assumption to be accurate. But, I'm not giving up hope just yet. I want to believe that I can meditate to music, and do it on my own terms. Of course, I also want to believe that hippies are so Urbana, and I'm so Champaign. This sure is a fine tight rope I walk.
Speaking of Walden, I found my copy from high school in my parent's basement over "Thanksgiving vacation" along with the Basic Writings of Nietzsche. Man, it's been a while.
Now, not to get all transcendental on your ass, but I've been thinking a lot about meditation lately at the bequest of a few people. I'm just not down with meditation, even though at its core it can be summed up as nothing more than conscious relaxation—focusing on one's breathing in an attempt to clear one's mind of all thoughts and distractions. And, I'm totally down with that. But, I just can't imagine having any success at it, especially given the fact that I find the whole practice to be incredibly hippie—and not in a charming way. I know that getting over my preconceived notions of what is and what is not "hippie"—and whether "hippie" is a mostly good or evil thing to begin with—would probably do me some good. But, that's a pretty big hurdle to clear for someone that fears the smell of patchouli, astrology, bootlegged Dead concerts, and barefoot, beflowered people alike. (Yes, it's true that I do value certain hippy principles, like activism, a love of the environment and a fondness for music and the arts.) Still, the search for inner rest and relaxation has become more of an intrigue as I grow older and still more restless. So, maybe I'm becoming a rare non-drug-using, bathing, meat-eating hippie in my old age. To be continued, I suppose.
Back on point, I'm interested specifically in determining whether I can meditate to rock music, cause I'm just too much of a self-conscious music snob to be down with listening to the sound of waves gently lapping at a shore while I meditate. I'd like to think that when I listen to certain kinds of non-ambient music—from acoustic blues-folk like John Fahey and spooky art-folk like Movietone to hypnotic neo-psychedlic rock like Dead Meadow or abrasive Daydream Nation-era Sonic Youth—I'm able to reach a sort of inner stillness. Through my mind's devotion to the sounds emanating from the headphones, I'm able to lose my grasp on other common thoughts, and in doing so create a mental environment that one would equate on a surface level with the act of meditation.
Certain forms of rock music do seem to allow me to "escape" from my current mental environment, to relinquish whatever thoughts I might be consumed with at that moment and turn off my brain. When I was younger I used to listen to music through headphones every night as I was attempting to fall asleep. For some, this would only stimulate their brain and prevent the necessary shutdown that gives way to sleep. But for me, it worked like a novel aphrodisiac, slowing down my thoughts to the point that I could simply become consumed in the music I was listening to. The relaxation that resulted would send me off to sleep in a swift fashion.
While I haven't spent much time thinking about it until now, I wonder if what was happening to me at that moment could be deemed quite similar to meditation. More importantly, I wonder if it's possible to successfully meditate to non-ambient music, in specific rock music. My brief stint spent researching the topic hasn't proven this assumption to be accurate. But, I'm not giving up hope just yet. I want to believe that I can meditate to music, and do it on my own terms. Of course, I also want to believe that hippies are so Urbana, and I'm so Champaign. This sure is a fine tight rope I walk.
I saw Speedo on PBS a few months ago... I really liked it, probably because it reminded me of my dad.
-Mary
By 
, at 4:39 AM
4:39 AMI saw Speedo on PBS a few months ago... I really liked it, probably because it reminded me of my dad.
-Mary