Once upon a time, kids had to hit the streets to find good music, but nowadays music is abundant and songs fill the air and surround us with unlimited listening pleasure. However, listeners today are pathetic and no longer attempt to have an eclectic and interesting taste in music. They feel that being solely devoted to one genre—whether it is hip-hop or hardcore metal—qualifies their taste in music as “good.”  Modern day music lovers are blindsided by their preferences for specific genres, causing them to overlook the gray areas of the music industry. The gray areas are the foggy corners of the music business where creativity and artistry come alive and the trite and mundane are forgotten. The gray areas are where you find the modern Bob Dylan singing of change, or the new age Jimmy Page, taking guitar playing to new heights. Here, you can truly find yourself and hear something significant, the gray areas allow you to find a soundtrack to live to. But what does it mean to have good taste in music? Does it mean stumbling through the gray areas or being hopelessly devoted to your favorite drug dealing rapper? Well, the answer is neither.  The key to having good taste in music is not to have good taste in music at all, but rather find the tunes that inspire you, fill you with happiness or just make you feel as if you will live forever.

The first step in acquiring good taste in music is to make sure you have to proper tools needed to do so. The necessities for finding new and exciting music would include an open mind—often hard to find, functioning ears, and access to the internet, a bookstore or local music scene.  Once you have acquired your gear, it is essential that you enter a period of cleansing and meditation.  During this time, you must forget your genre biases and preferences—if you are addicted to Glam hair metal, say your thorny goodbyes to Poison. Next, you begin the hunt for new music, taking your newly purified mind with you. The best place to find new music is the internet, without wasting gas or money you can search for hours, finding anything your ears desire. Websites such a Purevolume, Pandora Radio, and Myspace Music allow listeners to explore the genres they are accustomed to while discovering new and uncharted territories.

However, if you are lucky enough to have an active local music scene, it is better to find music this way. Here you can support local business and find truly original music. Encountering new music is a delicate process. If you listen to too much new music at once, it all starts to sound the same. Also, do not force the process, let it occur naturally, looking through CDs here and there or visiting a music blog every other week. After scouring the internet and hitting the local music scene, it is time for you to make an important decision. You could stick to the Avenge Sevenfold or Katy Perry song you have already listened to seventy times or you can choose the path less taken. If you pick the latter, congratulations you are now truly on your way to developing good taste in music.

Once trekking the high road, you can begin the second step in acquiring good taste in music. You must now take what you learned in step one and expand.  After sorting through your new finds and deciding which ones you like, it is essential that you find more. If while searching the internet you stumble upon Amos Lee’s Sweet Pea and immediately fall in love with his bluesy, soulful sound you should find more. The point of step two is to attempt to satisfy your new insatiable need for original music. Also, step two allows you to develop the habits of an avid music lover. By constantly searching and discovering new music you are able to endlessly expand your musical interests as well as your collection. As you continue to explore and find more music your taste will undoubtedly mold and transform. The more eclectic your taste becomes the better.  Nevertheless, there is one crucial element in having good taste in music that no amount of searching can force. The only way you can have truly excellent taste in music is to listen to what makes you happy. You must find the music that inspires you, fills you with delight and makes you feel as is you will live forever. To only listen to something because it is cool or hip is to sell yourself short, you should never buy a CD just because it is number one on Billboard’s top 100. Always dare to scour the dusty corners of the music world, just shake off the dust, blast your newest find, and fly away to another place. Music should stir your emotions and inspire your imagination and to have a collection of music that does just that is to have truly excellent taste in music.

According to The Alchemist, “God has prepared a path for everyone to follow” (Coelho 29). For many, this statement is not only false but also presents a problem. The quotation above presents the religious idea of a god who is both all knowing and all powerful. I strongly disagree with this idea because I feel that when a decision is made, it is my decision. In the same fashion of an all knowing god, The Alchemist presents the argument of free will versus predetermination. However, on this argument The Alchemist aligns with my beliefs. I too believe that the world’s greatest lie is that “at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what’s happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate” (Coelho 18). I believe that no matter what the situation, there is always a way out, always another choice you can make; that people are not controlled by fate but rather their own free will. Believing too heavily on fate can lead a person to use their religion as a crutch.  I myself am not a religious person, for me “religion is to do right. It is to love, it is to serve, it is to think, it is to be humble” (Ralph Waldo Emerson). Although The Alchemist presents a very Christian view towards being spiritual, it also subtly presents a philosophical way of life. When Santiago “had to choose between something he had become accustomed to and something he wanted to have,” he is faced with an existential dilemma (Coelho 27). Here, Coelho presents a way to be spiritual that I myself try to follow. Instead of following societal norms, I try to guide myself with what I feel to be right in my heart, to find true authenticity. However, I feel that no matter what you believe that if you follow your heart and believe in yourself you will succeed. Because “once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit” (EE Cummings).

BOB DYLAN—the man, the myth, the legend—the man who changed it all and simply walked away. The definition of cool, Bob Dylan is a revolutionary, a visionary who surpassed all boundaries. Dylan is ambiguous, mysterious and changing. Elusive and reluctant with the media, Bob Dylan has given practically nothing away. Bob Dylan is great. His poetry rather than music and philosophy rather than lyrics prove this greatness. Bob Dylan led a generation of hippies to think for themselves and do whatever the hell they wanted. His music, lyrics, and impact throughout the ’60s changed the music game and people forever.

“Strike another match, go start anew…and it’s all over now, Baby Blue.”

When he first hit the music scene in the early ‘60s, Bob Dylan’s music was different—it was new. When compared to other music of the early ’60s such as The Beach Boys and The Beatles, Dylan was strikingly different. He did not want to “Hold Your Hand,” and he certainly was not interested in “Good Vibrations.” With his acoustic guitar and shrieking harmonica, Bob infused his philosophy, thoughts, and politics into his music. He introduced a new era of “intelligent” or at least interesting music. His smoky, nasally voice and lyrical genius made his message more important than his actual music. Bob changed the game again when he went electric at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. Dylan plugged in and ripped “Maggie’s Farm” on his electric, not acoustic, guitar. Met by a mixed review, Dylan kept on playing; only appeasing his folk fans with acoustic versions of “Its All Over Now Baby Blue” and “Mr. Tambourine Man.” Dylan’s unannounced electric slide changed folk music forever and rock n’ roll was born again. Dylan’s rock revival infused truth and protest into rock n’ roll—changing the game and making his lyrics some of the most influential of his time.

“There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke. But you and I, we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate, so let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.”

Bob Dylan is all about truth. Quoting Thoreau, rather than love, than money, than fame, Dylan wanted truth. He wanted truth from not only himself, but from everyone. Almost satirical in nature his lyrics criticize our dishonest society and its decadence. His criticisms of racism and Vietnam became the protest anthems of his generation. Through his lyrics, Dylan showed not only discontent but also philosophy. Dylan’s lyrics specifically focused on racism, Vietnam, freedom, control, and rebellion against principles constituted by society. From “Hurricane” to “The Times They Are A-Changin” Dylan’s songs showcase his various ideas.

1. “Hurricane”—Dylan’s song about the false accusation of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter a black middleweight boxer. He criticizes racism through out the song.

“If you’re black you might as well not show up on the street…’Less you wanna draw the heat.”

“To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum and to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger. No one doubted that he pulled the trigger and though they could not produce the gun, the D.A. said he was the one who did the deed and the all-white jury agreed.”

1. “Blowin’ in the Wind”—this song alludes to Vietnam’s high death count and the necessity to end the “unnecessary” war.

“Yes, ‘n’ how many ears must one man have before he can hear the people cry? Yes, ‘n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows that too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind…”

1. “Mr. Tambourine Man”—Dylan speaks of individual freedom and beauty. Also, he alludes to his own desire to fade into the background, away from fame and the pressures that come with the territory.

“I’m ready to go anywhere, I’m ready to fade into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it. Then take me disappearin’ through the smoke rings of my mind, down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves, the haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach, far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow. Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free, silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands, with all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves, let me forget about today until tomorrow.”

1. “The Times They Are A-Changing”—this song clearly shows Dylan’s discontent with the press and society in general and how he and the Summer of Love generation—the generation of young adults who experienced the turbulent age of peace and love in the late ’60s—wanted change.

“Come writers and critics who prophesize with your pen and keep your eyes wide the chance won’t come again and don’t speak too soon for the wheel’s still in spin and there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’. For the loser now will be later to win for the times they are a-changin. There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’. It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls for the times they are a-changin’. Come mothers and fathers throughout the land and don’t criticize what you can’t understand. Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command your old road is rapidly agin’. Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand for the times they are a-changin’. The line it is drawn the curse it is cast the slow one now will later be fast. As the present now will later be past the order is rapidly fadin’. And the first one now will later be last. For the times they are a-changin’.”

Dylan’s genius is clearly seen in his lyrics. His ability to be both upfront and ambiguous makes his lyrics inspiring. Bob Dylan makes you think with his lyrics rather than his words. Dylan’s lyrics had huge impact on the Summer of Love generation. However, they continue to have an impact on kids today. Dylan has led generations to be independent and free thinking. He has changed the way many people approach their daily situations by urging them— through his lyrics—to think free, live free and “dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free” (Dylan).

“If you don’t know by now, I give her my heart but she wanted my soul. But don’t think twice, it’s all right”

Sure, Bob Dylan’s voice is nasally and raspy, and sure, he himself is absurd, avoiding questions with unintelligible and sarcastic answers during interviews and other strange behaviors. However, Bob Dylan is still awesome. How is that possible you may ask? Well it is simple…it all lies in his impact. No matter what Bob Dylan did, no matter who did it before him, he did it with a sense of individuality. He did everything better and louder; everything he did was more profound. This is particularly seen when he switched from acoustic to electric. He was not the first to go electric, however, he did it loud—he plugged in, cranked the volume and jammed. He didn’t half heartedly attempt to change, he wasn’t afraid to be the first, or the best. Dylan is better because he did not allow the media to define him, rather he defined himself, choosing what interviews he wanted to attend, what lyrics he wanted to sing, and what he wanted to represent. He did not follow the trends of society—unlike The Beatles who sang frivolous pop songs in the early ’60s and then followed society becoming more psychedelic and thoughtful to appease the Summer of Love generation—he did as he pleased. He was rough and honest while other bands, such as The Beach Boys and The Beatles, were lighthearted and avoided the “big issues.” Dylan’s ability to experiment but remain intelligent and true to himself made him the “spokesperson’ of the baby boomers. He was their go to guy, singing the tales they could all relate to and were experiencing. He spoke of brothers going to a war in the jungle, bombs in Cuba, and crosses burning over the color of someone’s skin. Bob Dylan didn’t make music for his generation he made music for himself—as member of the same generation and the same group of issues. He was their spokesperson, directing them, focusing their attention to be able lead themselves. However, this dependence on Dylan caused his already reluctant manner to grow even more severe. He felt suffocated by his fame. He didn’t want to give the world his soul; Dylan didn’t want the people or the business to take away who he truly was. This is his greatest achievement; he was able to play the music industry game while never forgetting who he really was. Although they tried, no one was able to or will ever be able to contain Bob Dylan. He is a wild animal not safe to roam with civilized people. He is a different breed of human who needs to be free. Free to think, live, breath, and be as he pleases—to be just like a rolling stone.

“How does it feel? How does it feel to be on your own? With no direction home? Like a complete unknown? Like a rolling stone…”

Bob Dylan is my personal hero. He is different, an original, a one of a kind. Dylan is a true smart ass who fought anyone who tried to contain him. From the media to his own generation, no one was able to cage his free spirit. He was different and ahead of his time. He grabbed the people’s attention, getting them to look, to see, to listen to his message—a message of individuality, of protest, of living for truth. The man is a philosopher, a poet, and most of all a legend. Similar to a shooting star, Bob Dylan is rare and awesome in everyway. He morphed from a beatnik kid with his harmonica to a music legend whose individuality will never again be matched—whose ragged voice will echo forever, inspiring all who choose to open up their minds and listen.

“Cracker Jack, you’re a great guy and all, but this whole kidnapping thing is getting a little old.” She snapped over the phone.

“Listen R, I know this sucks, but really, I’m trying my best here!” I pleaded, trying to console her.

“I don’t care, try harder! This guy is a psycho and I am about to go crazy!” She screamed this time.

“Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I whispered, and with a click the line went dead.

My name is Cracker Jack, and I am here to save you. Yeah right I thought. Sure, I kick major butt, but I couldn’t even protect the love of my life, Princess Ritz. Some superhero I am. This whole fiasco started a year ago when I, with some help, demolished the sadistic Dr. Planters and his evil Dorito minions. See, Dr. Planters is a psycho, and after he was expelled from Saltine University for some illegal genetic engineering, he completely lost it. With his background in genetics, Dr. Planters is known for creating mutants and a year ago he struck gold. While toying with the similarities between chinchilla and rabbit DNA he was stuck with evil genius and decided to combine them with the DNA of a panda bear. The result was a wild beast that had the strength and heft of a panda, razor-sharp chinchilla claws and the deceptive cuteness of all three–a truly dangerous combination.  And from here the drama began. Dr. Planters attacked Salt & Vinegar City with his mutant Panchillunnys and Dorito minions in tow. For weeks, they tore the city to pieces, crushing, crunching, and chewing everything in sight. Mayor Orville Redenbacher enlisted the help of my superhero strength. I tried my hardest to beat the mutants, using all of my powers. Nothing stopped the Panchillunnys, not my salt shaker spray, super strength, or even my Trans fat laser vision. At a loss, my old friend General Triscuit offered to help. This eye patch, top hat wearing general knows a thing or two about kicking butt. With his and the trail mix soldiers’ help, we squashed the Panchillunny rebellion in a matter of days. Dr. Planters, ashamed of his genetic anomalies and suffering from fiery rage, made me number one on his hit list. Sworn to revenge, he decided to kidnap my one true love, Princess Ritz. Intelligent, strong, opinionated, and beautiful, we are truly perfect for each other. She lives for justice and has taken down as many bad guys as I have—all while wearing a dress. She really is my dream girl, but I let her down, I left her at the castle for a guy’s night out and he took her. I cannot believe I was naïve enough to think that he couldn’t get to her at the castle.  But he did, and here we are today.

“Really is it that hard for the greatest superhero ever to save his princess from one lousy evil genius? I mean really Cracker Jack five days stuck in a cave with this psycho? I need some real social interaction dammit!”  She seethed.

“R, I love you, but you have got to calm down. Please!” I tried to reason with her. “I have to find you first, and then I can save you. But seeing as you don’t know where you are, it makes is kind of difficult to save you.” I fumed, letting the tension break my calm façade.

“Well, what a charming attitude to have with the woman you love and just, oh I don’t know, LOST! Goodbye Jack, have fun tracking me. I’ll be waiting.” And with a click, she was gone again.

I flew as fast as I could, searching all of the obvious places. I searched Australia, Iceland, the Antarctic, even Canada for her. They were no where to be found, they had gone completely off the radar. Going back to the drawing board, I put on my salty thinking cap and got creative—WHERE COULD HE BE? Then I finally figured it out. He took her to China! He recently used the panda DNA to create the beastly Panchillunny. Being a perfectionist he would go somewhere where he could hide Princess Ritz and do something productive. It made perfect sense! And so, at the speed of light, I was off again. When I reached the Great Wall of China I searched for hours for Dr. Planters’ underground evil layer. Finally, I found his well hidden cave.

“Unhand my girlfriend you evil creep!” I boomed with all the intimidation I could muster.

“Um, no. I think I’ll pass, but thanks for offering.” He replied, dripping with sarcasm.

I retorted “I thought you would say that. Well, if this is how you want to play, bring it on Planters! It is time to duel my evil counterpart!”

“Of course, of course. Evil scientist, butt kicking superohero, we fight, blah blah blah, you save the girl and I retreat in shame while you two lovebirds live happily ever after.” He ranted. “Well not again Cracker Jack! This time I’m going to win, so you can just kiss it! Let’s just call this Revenge of the Nerds!” He bellowed, actually intimidating for once.

Next thing I knew, a wilder, uglier version of the original Panchillunny is flying at my through the air. At last, it was time to fight. The beast flipped through the air and landed with the grace, not of an animal, but of a skilled Ninja. In our fighting stances, he advanced first, throwing a roundhouse kick towards my head. Ducking, I sent a straight shot to the baby maker. The Panchillunny clutched the wall for support, which in turn fell to the ground, crushing the beast under its weight.  I turned towards Dr. Planters.

“Are you going to fight me or what coward?” I panted, out of breath.

“Well, I was wondering, instead of fighting, why not settle things in a more peaceful matter…” He suggested.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” I questioned, skeptical of the nut case’s proposal

“With an epic hotdog eating contest of course!” He exclaimed, as if it were the most normal thing ever.

“What? Are you serious? No wait, you’re on drugs aren’t you? No, no, I know, you’ve just completely lost it now! That’s it, you have completely gone mad.” I reasoned.

“No, I’m completely serious Cracker Jack.” He replied.

“Well I guess this will at least be interesting. Okay, let’s do this! BRING ON THE HOTDOGS!” I agreed.

We sat at either end of the long table and stared each other dead in the eye.

“It is time.” Dr. Planters said. “When the clock starts, we both have 15 minutes to eat as many hotdogs as possible. Whoever eats the most hotdogs, wins. If you win, which you won’t, you get to save your girlfriend. However, if I win she stays with me and I have her DNA. Mwahahahahaha!” He laughed evilly.

“Whatever, just bring out the food.” I retorted fully of rage.

Dr. Planters summoned his evil Dorito minions. They brought out tray after tray of hotdogs, all for us to eat. Finally, they brought her out, my beautiful Princess Ritz.

“You are the BIGGEST idiot ever.” She mocked. “I cannot believe you agreed to fight for me by eating hotdogs.”

The epic hotdog contest ensued.  As the clock started ticking, we slammed down hotdogs. Two down, four, six, ten, more and more. As I continued to eat, the worse I felt. The clock neared its final seconds, our numbers were dead even—I had to eat more, her life depended on it! With five seconds left, I summoned all of my strength to force one more salty hot dog down the tube. The clock buzzed, signaling that the epic face off was over. The Dorito minions counted how many hotdogs we each had left behind. I had eaten 27 of 36 and Dr. Planters had eaten 26 of 36.

“BOOYAH PLANTERS!” Ritz screamed with joy. “Okay, now let me go freak!”

“Oh my God! I think I’m going to hurl!” I yelled, running out of the room.

“NOOOOO! Fate has defied me again!” Planters cried. “Time for a new game plan, maybe I should take up knitting?”

As Ritz and I flew away into the sunset, I realized maybe I’m not that bad of a superhero after all.

“You know Jack, I really do love you,” Ritz confessed.

“I know, I love you too R.” I replied. “But how about you and I live the rest of our lives, together, happily ever after free of crazy geneticists.”

So, from here our real story takes flight. As Ritz and I begin the rest of our lives together, it can only be up, up and away from here.

Through the smog, all I see is the lonely Oak tree. See, government regulation allowed the Committee of Excellence only one new tree per street when they passed the “Bright Futures and Shining Places Act of 2798,” but that was almost twenty years ago. The act, passed by infamous President Xavier Thorpe, meant to create a cleaner and better America. However, the sadistic Committee of Excellence did not stick to their regulations. Except for leaving one tree per street, I guess they didn’t want their triumph over the enduring American Democracy to be too obvious. I gratefully did not live through the transformation. I did not see the beacon of hope for freedom—standing strong for over one thousand years—finally fail. My grandfather, Marrick Shea Pearce, former Secretary of Green Excellence, was a member of the “changeling” generation. He survived the change to “a perfect, better, brighter, shining united America!” But what a lie that was. No one knew, or even suspected, that President Thorpe was behind the greatest conspiracy of all time, and all were shocked when he became Emperor Supreme of the Excellent States of America. Once the United States of America no longer existed, the Committee of Excellence began their Perfect Purification—starting with New York City.

Marrick told me that when the Sweep Machines entered the city it was as if Satan himself clawed the place to shreds. They entered the city destroying everything in their paths, demolishing the buildings, new and old, that once stood as homes or places of worship. Their Perfect Purification continued to all of the other major cities—Los Angeles, Washington D.C., Atlanta, Miami, Houston—then spread farther and farther into the suburbs. Next, the committee took on the population. Already terrorized into apathy and servitude, it was not for the Americans to be coerced. The American people we separated and sorted by their unique qualities into small groups. They were then taken to Dream to Dazzle Centers for American Changelings. These hell holes were where they took away American pride and diversity. In surgery the Committee of Excellence changed the people—their faces, their shapes and sizes, their colors. Everyone now was the same: perfectly in shape, with flawless skin, gorgeous eyes, and shining hair. They spoke with perfect diction and curiously enough had the same memories. Curiously enough indeed, I always wonder how that happened, I mean, of course the evil, sadistic government would never erase the memories of their people and replace them with new ones! But in case your memory was also erased, the evil, sadistic government did erase their memories. Americans were left with not a fragment of what they once were, and believing that Xavier Thorpe was the second coming of Jesus. He was their savior and as the Emperor Supreme, he was going to save them—erased memories tend to allow people to believe total crap. However, within the changeling generation a small group of people survived the surgeries and lived to tell the truth.

When grandfather Marrick awoke at the New York Dream to Dazzle Center for American Changelings he realized the fraud committed. His friends and family were lost, literally, asking where they were and frightened to death—like new born children trapped in full grown bodies. However, the Committee of Excellence made a mistake. Marrick’s memory was not erased, and realizing he was alone, he decided it to fake it. After surgery, the changelings went to classes to learn their new revised history. They learned to listen and follow exactly what they were told to do, but to smile and be perfect at all times. Once they passed the Dream to Dazzle Examination for Perfection the changelings were sent on their way, officially perfect. After leaving the Dream to Dazzle Center Marrick ran, as far and as fast as he could, not stopping until he found a safe hiding spot.

The year is now 2812, almost twenty years after the initial take over, and Marrick is still searching for original changelings. While searching, Marrick found my parents hidden in an underground tunnel. They had been hiding there since the initial overthrow. My mother was four months pregnant with me and did not want her child born into hell, so they ran. My mom’s wishful thinking paid off and now we run the streets free, leaving hints of the truth with the Perfects. We have neither the numbers nor the resources to overthrow the Emperor Supreme, but we carry the truth. Each day we live knowing that this man took everything from everyone. We know that Xavier created a regime of dolls to play with, forcing the Perfects unknowingly into an existence devoid of freedom and creativity.  He took what matters most from life and gave them something they don’t even know they should hate. Nevertheless, we are tireless in our efforts, leaving passages of freedom on city walls and books about liberty in stairwells. We are slowly spreading the truth to the American people and until my dying breath, I, Evanna Shea Pearce, will fight for freedom. We are going to fight until the truth is known and freedom rings through this land again. As Marrick has thought me, the most important thing—above all—is to think for myself, because my thoughts are all that are truly mine. However, until the time comes for us to act, we pass our secret in the night, waiting until we can take down the Committee of Excellence. So for now, it is time to pretend and as I hover board past the lonely Oak tree, I stop, and carve “freedom” into the growing trunk.

so here is to the future.

foreshadowing?

so i randomly decided to create this blog, out of bordom & a need to say what i wanted to say & rant & discuss. so i’ll probably end up randomly ranting and discussing music, movies, books, politics, my life, etc. etc. etc. but  who knows!