The song stuck with me from the first time I heard it.
I felt taken by the rhythm, the gradual increase in intensity of the electric guitar and the way the singer’s attitude came through in his lyrics. He was brash and self-assured; he knew that he was talented and he challenged the universe to try to stop him. He oozed confidence in a “Come at me, bro” type of way that I almost admired. In most situations, I would still prefer to remain quiet and listen to others rather than broadcast my own accomplishments. But the high-volume chords and the pounding of the bass drum were perfect for boosting my motivation whenever I needed it.
I heard the song on the radio when it was released just over ten years ago. I enjoyed it at the time; the beat was infectious and the first few lines always seemed to make me smile. The song faded from radio playlists, though, and I found myself listening to the radio less often, which meant that I didn’t end up hearing it again for quite some time. In fact, until it came on during the spinning class I was taking yesterday, I had completely forgotten that the song existed.
I grinned immediately when I heard the first line. I followed the instructor’s direction to stand and began pedaling faster, eager to use the singer’s bravado to fuel my workout. My inner adolescent emerged; early-20s Aaron was finishing school and ready to conquer the world and those feelings returned as my legs pumped beneath me. I was strong, I was fast, I had what I needed and I was ready for anything.
But then it shifted.
The song continued to build, the singer’s feats became more complex, more impressive and then, almost suddenly, more violent. He had gone from tinkering with machines and starting a business to grabbing power and destroying his enemies. The guitar became overwhelming, more noisy than melodic, and the singer was shouting instead of singing. I forced my pedal strokes to remain consistent; I knew why I was riding and I was not about to let the singer’s blinding ambition overwhelm me and interrupt my personal goals.
If you’ve wondered what you would’ve done during slavery, the Holocaust, or Civil Rights movement…you’re doing it now. #Charlottesville
— Aditi Juneja (@AditiJuneja3) August 12, 2017
I finished the ride, cleaned and readjusted the bike and went to take a shower but I couldn’t stop thinking about the song. I considered the connections between the singer’s journey through the lyrics and the circumstances that change the attitudes of revolutionaries once they have taken charge. I thought of the Greek choruses describing punishments for hubris and the idea of absolute power corrupting absolutely. I remembered reading somewhere that the problem with politics is that the people who would be the best suited for the positions are smart enough to know that they want no part of politics in the first place.
I pictured the younger version of myself, aching to prove that he belonged, that he could overcome obstacles, that he could meet and exceed expectations. I thought about his mindset, his biases and his opinions about how the world should work. I wondered, if circumstances had been different, if I would have pursued a more prominent role as an activist, an organizer, a leader of the Resistance. I asked myself if I would have succumbed to the same sort of power-hunger that the man in the song described. I believed the answer to be no, that I would have withstood temptation and stayed true to my core principles and avoided being swept up in the movement and the spotlight and the newfound authority. I certainly hoped that would have been the case.
But it was hard to be sure.
While I often laugh about being old, there is some truth to how perspectives differ over the years. Young people really do tend to see things in black and white while older people tend to see more grey nuances. Young people are also quick to draw extreme analogies that are as offensive as they are inaccurate. It doesn’t take much these days for someone to be labelled a Nazi or for something to be called another Holocaust. Worse yet, there is often a hubris attached to youth as to their monopoly on all that is right and just, with next to no tolerance for any views that may differ. Even Jane Fonda recognizes as much these days when she talks about the regrets she now has for her “Hanoi Jane” days. Again, these are “tendencies” and not meant as iron clad statements of general truth. After all, Hitler himself was convinced he was absolutely right and he was no youngster. Suffice it to say we should all do what we can to do what is right, but with the humility that understands we may not always be right. There is always value in at least listening to the other side. If history is any guide, what is truly right will ultimately win out in the end.
“Suffice it to say we should all do what we can to do what is right, but with the humility that understands we may not always be right. There is always value in at least listening to the other side. If history is any guide, what is truly right will ultimately win out in the end.”
In general, I would agree with that statement; the objective is to be as well-informed as possible and then use that information when making judgments and decisions. Even if the results turn out “poorly,” it’s more about the process than about the results (although, now I’m also remembering something about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions…). I also appreciate your last line; it reminds me of Martin Luther King’s statement: “…The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”