Real Truth Please?

This Monday evening seemed to be all about “reality”; reality TV, if it’s really real (which apparently, it isn’t…) is more the rage than ever, with nothing being more entertaining to us than former teen beat cover boys dancing the jive, or the “emotions-on-steroids” antics of young women setting their caps at a Ken Doll. But it isn’t just on television – it’s everywhere.

The other day, my friend Billy wrote a little post about how our modern sensibilities prefer the political-correctness of Toyota Priuses over the gumption of a classic V-8, asking “Will the new generation of cars ever stir our hearts like these cars of old? Will we…yearn for when cars were made of steel, iron, piss and vinegar?”

Oooh – yeah, let’s get some P&V in the picture, shall we?

The fabulous Julie Fredrickson of Almost Girl again brings out her pocket full of French philosophy for a discussion on the simulacra found at Forever 21… “Our disposable culture has gotten so out of hand that all our savvy goes towards discovering cheaper imitations. Even our designers participate in this race to reach outwards. We all watch the runways but so few of us buy. Beaudrillard may be dead but his legacy of imitation is alive and well in fashion.”

Meanwhile, over at Pamspace, Pam really breaks down why no self-respecting connoisseur of the drug “coffee” would or should ever stoop to the lowest level of caffeine standards called Starbucks.

Since I too firmly believe that Starbucks is not only scalding the American palette into oblivion, but also reducing its sophistication with a layer of synthetic sucrose, I am all in favor of getting back to true flavors, natural ingredients, and taste in all things.

That’s right, taste, Mr. Proposed-to-the-Girl-with-a-Cubic-Zirconia… you know who you are, and the words “party foul” don’t even scratch the surface on that one. Wait – maybe they would…

After all, if our whole world is about distillation, imitation, and convenience, when will we know what’s the real thing?

The anemically-staged advertisements for eHarmony pledge to find people their “most compatible match”. What does this mean? No fireworks? No passionate outbursts? No heartbreak of Wuthering Heights proportions? Wow. That sounds like a sure thing. Funny thing about sure things: they aren’t very interesting, or exciting. Let’s face it, sure things do not good novels make…

I suppose we find it safer to live this way – no risks, no gambles. As children we were allowed to have imaginary friends that helped us learn to be better-adapted to our real friends once we got to school. We learned how by taking chances in a safe place, allowing our real-world confidence to grow. At least, that was the thinking of our Sesame Street generation. After all, no one but Big Bird could see Snuffy for years. But now that the Snuffleupagus is no longer imaginary, and Oscar is tragically no longer a Grouch, kids seem to be learning a different set of rules.


Yummy!The great thing about extremes and risks is the learning – Oscar’s grouchiness made us learn how to cooperate, and even make friends with difficult personalities in our real lives. I suppose since everyone is so agreeable on Sesame Street these days that there is no longer the need? Wow – and I know so many difficult people.

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty -that is all/ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." - John Keats

Grecian urns aside, is anyone telling the truth any more? The beauty of truth is that it’s real. Cars burn gas, for every fashion "do" there's a "don't", couples disagree, Oscar IS a grouch, and coffee tastes like coffee – and hey, it’s deliciously bitter. Why are we so truth-averse and yet so imitative at the same time? We avoid reality and yet are constantly seeking to live through someone else’s. We’re thrill-seekers of the “holier than thou” variety, waiting for someone else to take the gamble while we wait in the front row to watch it happen, judgements in abundance.

Are we so afraid of making mistakes that we avoid taking chances altogether? Are we all so anesthesized to the imitations everywhere that we no longer recognize character, robustness, and flavor? I'm feeling very un-girlish as I think these thoughts; it seems more the purview of disenchanted young men to be eschewing the pre-packaged world for good Scotch, steaks, foie gras, and chocolate souffle. It all tastes so much better than Lean Cuisine, or heaven forbid, Starbucks.

Truth be told, the whole thing is enough to make a girl run mad! 

Comments

[Kristi]

Hear, hear!