Wednesday, May 31, 2017

And If It Offends You, Just Don't Listen to It: The Philosophy of Ixnay on the Hombre

Ixnay on the Hombre is a collection of vignettes, each telling a story about individuals living out their own lives.  But taken collectively, the songs communicate a profound and highly developed philosophy.  Ultimately, the message of the album is to have courage in the face of difficulty and suffering in order to live a fulfilling, beautiful life instead of an easy, sheltered, meaningless one.

The album opens with "Disclaimer," an indictment of institutionalized censorship and our cultural preoccupation with political correctness.  In this rapid-fire barrage of sarcasm, I recognize five major themes that comprise the foundational structure of the album: paternalism in the media; the resulting suppression of free, critical thought; the capacity of the individual to engage in critical thinking; the fearsome nature of a life filled with danger and suffering; and, the individual's need to exercise discernment for the successful navigation of the human experience.

The first theme illustrated in "Disclaimer" is the way we are coddled, sheltered, and silenced by the legal and societal pressures to be decent and inoffensive.  The "'Merican Apple Pie institution known as parental discretion" is identified as one source of this pressure, and is also used to illustrate the paternalistic nature of other aspects of American society.  Just as parents determine what media is appropriate for consumption by their children, FCC regulation and even the threat of censure by our peers impose filters and limitations upon what we consume and what we say, suppressing expressions that others consider to be objectionable.  In "The Meaning of Life," we see a rejection of paternalistic forces "trying to tell me / what to say and do."  These forces in our legal system and social consciousness impose decency and conformity at the expense of critical thinking and individual expression.

Censorship is often leveled at materials, speech, and thoughts that are considered to be "provocative," which is to say things that goad us to think.  One prime example of this is the television show South Park.  Although the viewer may find it crass and obscene, the show's effectiveness resides in its ability to remove the filter of politeness that can mask the ugly truths in our day-to-day lives.  In this way, provocative speech, even that which strays into the realm of the offensive, has the potential to be beneficial.  Despite, or perhaps because of, the intellectual and emotional discomfort it may cause us, being confronted with provocative ideas motivates the critical evaluation of opinions and realities that we otherwise accept unquestioningly.  However, according to the message of "Disclaimer," free thinking is systematically suppressed by the paternalism discussed above; censorship "will cleanse any sense of innuendo or sarcasm (which might actually make you think!)," discouraging the dissemination and discussion of controversial or objectionable ideas.

"Disclaimer" criticizes censorship as an infringement on individual rights and liberties that is insulting to our capacity for critical thought.   "The Meaning of Life" tells of a man who chafes at the expectation that he "open wide and swallow their meaning of life," likening this imposition of conformity to a violation of his body, an assault on his personhood.  He refuses to unthinkingly accept the values forced upon him.  This character identifies his own ability to intelligently determine what is meaningful as a powerful and basic human urge.  With his pseudo-apology ("sorry, man, for feeling/ feeling the way I do"), he seems to say that the will to think for himself and to chart the course of his own life is an unavoidable and unalienable part of his individuality, rather than a character flaw that needs to be excused or corrected.

Like the narrator of this song, we each have the ability to navigate life on our own terms, to determine what is meaningful and what isn't.  But, exercising that ability can be difficult and painful. The same intelligence that gives us the power to think and to choose also allows us to see the ugly realities of the world in which we live.  The "Disclaimer" warns:

Protect your family!  This album contains explicit depictions of things which are real!  These real things are commonly known as "life."

The rest of the album illustrates a world full of pain: "Leave it Behind" is the angry response to the injustice of a serious personal betrayal; "Gone Away" tells of the heart-wrenching loss of a loved one; "Way Down the Line" presents vicious cycles of abuse, broken families, and poverty.  These stories are told with explicit language and, at times, in unsettling detail.  Although some listeners may find it disturbing and objectionable, it is this gritty and unflinching realism that gives the stories their power.

In our day-to-day lives, however, we often try to escape these ugly realities.  It is a profound struggle to grapple with the problem of moral evil.  When we do not know how to answer questions like "How could someone do this to me?" or "Why do people have to die?" or "Why are there so many people suffering in this world?" we tend to hide from them and to discourage others from asking them.  We ignore messages that remind us of these problems and stifle the voices of those who would make us confront them.  If and when we do open our eyes to what is going on around us, we find that we have been living all along in fear of our own reality.  But what is the proper response to this realization?  A block of three songs in the first half of the album illustrates poor lifestyle choices made in attempts to cope with this existential angst.

Mota Boy is a character who chooses to disengage, allowing himself to be controlled by the self-destructive ritual of a stoner lifestyle.  He seeks not fulfillment but merely the absence of pain, an Epicurean aponia.  Instead of facing the outside world, he confines himself to his couch, preferring the lukewarm tranquility of watching reruns of “Three's Company” and feeling "okay" over the pursuit of anything productive, edifying, or meaningful.

"Me & My Old Lady" tells the story of a couple whose lives revolve around sleeping, drinking, and sex.  For them, hedonism provides all the answers to life's questions, and they seem to value only these base pleasures.  They mistake their shared pleasures for true, loving devotion, rationalizing away both disapproval from other people and their own cognitive dissonance ("now that we believe in love/ there's nothing wrong with our heads").  Perhaps the narrator’s romantic partner “ain't no ball and chain," but the lyrics’ ironic treatment of their attitude suggests that there must be more to life than "quenching our libidos, passing time away."  

"Cool to Hate" is the manifesto of a particularly adolescent breed of punk who rejects the world wholesale.  He hates all things simply as a matter of principle.  According to him, "liking something's just a waste of time" and there is no value to be found in anything.  His unrelenting cynicism hinges upon a self-contradictory perspective of what is "cool;" on the one hand, he refuses to like anything because "being positive's so uncool," and yet on the other he deems "anyone who's cool" to be worthy of hatred.  The paradoxical nature of his outlook on life is highlighted using deviant focalization, a literary device by which a character speaks with a voice that is not his own.  Lines like "I'll cut you down 'cause I'm a fool / being positive's so uncool" and "I'm only happy when I'm in my misery" proclaim the outlook of the hater, but they also have meaning beyond the immediate context of the song itself.  From outside the narrative, or diegesis, The Offspring inject their criticism of this character into his own words.  In this way, the character indicts himself with an extradiegetic reproach of his own self-contradictions and hatred for the world.

Nothing in the preceding three songs helps the characters to overcome life's challenges or face their fears.  The real message underlying these songs is that discernment and courage are the proper aim for the individual, not escapism, base pleasure, or hatred.

Ixnay on the Hombre asserts that we as individuals must make the difficult choice to face suffering and adversity head on, in order to seek progress and truth.  "Disclaimer" ends with three commands that prompt the good judgment of the listener: "If it sounds sarcastic, don't take it seriously" prompts the reader to engage intelligently with the lyrics of the album, to seek the real meanings beneath the surface; "if it sounds dangerous, do not try this at home or at all" forewarns us about "Mota," "Me and My Old Lady," and "Cool to Hate," helping us recognize that these songs are critiques of vain and squalid lifestyles, not examples to emulate; "and if it offends you, just don't listen to it" informs us that it is ultimately up to the listener himself to determine the merit of the album, to accept, criticize, or reject its messages.

This final piece of "Disclaimer" introduces the theme of discernment that is woven through the rest of the album.  In the following song, "The Meaning of Life," the narrator asserts that just because one way of living has proven successful for someone else doesn’t mean that same lifestyle should be imposed upon him ("Me, I'd rather be found/ trying something new").  He recognizes the importance of living on his own terms, in this case choosing to respectfully disagree with and deviate from the choices made by the nameless authority figure addressed in the song.  "All I Want" discusses the emptiness and futility of being a follower ("You've tried being cool, you feel like a lie / You've played by their rules, now it's their turn to try").  These songs and others assert that it is up to the individual to determine his own meanings and values, and that exercising this freedom to choose is necessary for a fulfilling life.

This theme is most completely developed in "I Choose."  As the thematic keystone of the album, it synthesizes many topics and issues present in the rest of the tracks into a profound commentary on the human experience.  For example, the loss, pain, and fear found in other songs is present here, too.  Yet somehow, the long fall from birth to death is beautiful for the narrator.  He acknowledges that life can be awful and nightmarish, but also recognizes that there is beauty and love in the world.  Most important, he realizes and exercises his own ability to choose what is significant to him.  One particularly healthy choice is to focus on his "lovely generator," someone with whom he has a genuinely supportive relationship.  This companion not only tolerates but even treasures the narrator's quirks and childlike optimism; it is the things that make him "such a weenie" that make him so lovable.  The love of the "generator" is generous and kind, giving the narrator energy, support, and encouragement.  This is strikingly different from the relationship featured in "Me & My Old Lady," in which the partners give each other little more than sexual gratification.  The relationship in "I Choose" demonstrates the narrator's decision to focus on love as a source of meaning and value, as his raison d'ĂȘtre.

The narrator of "I Choose" has also chosen to live a life free from the various constraints and pressures to which the protagonists of the three “negative tracks” described above have fallen victim.  He acknowledges that his intellect is limited, but asserts that he nonetheless has the ability to understand himself ("but I don't know nothing / still knowing nothing / was just enough for me to know the way I feel").  Comprehension of his own emotions and motivations is a kind of wisdom that cannot be diminished or constrained by his lack of knowledge and inability to reason with the outside world.  In comparison to the rest of the album, there is a conspicuous absence of authority figures and social expectations, suggesting that he has moved beyond the rebellion of "The Meaning of Life" and "All I Want" and has become completely self-determining.  External forces have no control over his understanding of the world; thus, he is free to play “airplane” without shame and to live life on his own terms.  The final verse ends with the statement "I'll never know when I hit the ground." The line illustrates the narrator's refusal to live in fear of death, which offers him freedom from the ultimate constraint on the human condition.  With the firm declaration "I Choose," this character has exercised discernment and taken control of his life, finding freedom and joy in a world fraught with danger and pain. His courage, critical thinking, and discernment allow him to understand life as a beautiful journey instead of a hellish nightmare.  Developing these positive attributes is a difficult and lifelong endeavor.

The narrator of "Amazed" is at a particularly painful stage in this struggle.  As someone who has recognized his ability, as well as his need, to think independently, he feels alienated by the complacency of those around him: “Sometimes I think I'm going down / but no one makes a sound, they follow / and I'm alone.”  This feeling is compounded by the blissful, and willful, ignorance he observes in them:

When you know you can't relate
To one more shiny face, your heart aches
No one cares
And when you know you can't go on
Cause everything is wrong, your heart breaks
No one's there

Struggling with pain and fear while it seems the rest of the world lives thoughtlessly and carelessly, he feels abandoned and has nowhere to turn when life seems bleak.  The song ends on a rather dismal note: "If I make it, I'm still alone / no more hope for better days / If I could change, then I'd really be amazed."

Unexpectedly, out of this despair come the pulsing drums and driving guitar riff that introduce "Change the World."  This final song is an exultant conclusion to the album, both musically and thematically.  It lifts the veil on the powers that be (The Man, the titular Hombre) and warns us of hypocrites in positions of authority.  The end of the song reverberates with a message directed at those who outwardly profess the desire to change the world while caring only for themselves:

You're ready, saving yourself
You're gonna change the world
And since you ain't what you say
Then just go away
Cause some don't lie
Some don't lie

For the listener, this chorus is not merely a call to rebel for the sake of rebellion.  We are left with the repeated assertion that "some don't lie," the hopeful belief that there are genuine, honest people in the world.  In these three words lies the conclusion of the themes introduced in "Disclaimer."  We must recognize the external forces that influence and attempt to control our expression and consumption of messages, as well as our rejection and espousal of various meanings and values.  We must defy the suppression of critical thought in order to fully realize our capacity, will, and right to self-actualize.  We must grapple with, rather than hide from, the realities of an imperfect and unjust world.  Once we accomplish all these, we will be ready to dismiss the hypocrites, nix The Man (Ixnay on the Hombre), and to seek, support, and emulate those who truly have the will to do good.