March 2013 has been very anti-establishment for me. I’m fighting The Man by challenging my boss’ boss, reading even more dystopian literature than normal, and obsessing over Muse. Sometimes I don’t even notice the obvious connection. My born-in-the-wrong-era, hippie* roots would naturally like these sorts of things.
*In February, some girl I don’t know well told me there was no way I could be a hippie, because I don’t do drugs, I don’t act like one, and it’s 2013. It boggles my mind, the half-knowledge of people in the world. Defining a hippie as one who lived in the 1960s-70s, took all sorts of psychedelic drugs, and talked about saving America from big business while listening to Rock’n’Roll is comparable to defining a dog as a Labrador Retriever. It is not incorrect to say those people are hippies, but it is incorrect to say that’s the only type. Hippies have evolved, man. You don’t have to do drugs to be free. You don’t have to reject society. You don’t have to have long hair, tattoos, specific taste in music, or fringed accessories.
But guess, what? I have all those things. I’m a long-haired, tattooed human who likes rock music, boho chic clothing, and I give a damn about things. I give one big damn about the environment, about Corporate America swallowing Earth and showing a bill of sale to explain themselves. I care about accepting every good-hearted person on this earth for their character, not their color, religion, or sexual identity. I fucking care. So don’t tell me what I am and what I’m not.
To get back on track, I’m feeling very radical this month. And it didn’t help matters (or did it??) that I watched Easy Rider for the first time this weekend.
I feel so sad that my first introduction to Dennis Hopper was in Speed. What a depressing idea, that I had such a low opinion of his acting skills. Watching Easy Rider was the strangest thing for me, to see my judgment of a person’s skill completely shatter in 95 minutes’ time. Also, to see Dennis Hopper youthful and free-spirited was like finding out your late grandfather used to drive a monster truck. Alarming, inspiring, and curious as hell. I never paid much attention to him. I saw this man:
But the movie. The acting. The point. This nation in particular is all about freedom, but no one really wants you to have it. So many look down on the people who live off the land, pitching tents and doing side jobs to scrape by. I don’t know, man. They look pretty damn happy to me. Why can’t we just be happy for their freedom?