I’ll Quit the Bitching On My Blog and Stop Pretending Art Is Hard

I want to say a few words about the Occupy movement and about ukuleles.

This isn’t a blog about politics. I’m honestly not a very politically-minded person. I don’t like politics, honestly, because more often than not it’s a divisive topic that makes people try and beat the (usually) metaphorical shit out of each other with their beliefs.

But Occupy is more than that. Occupy is, from my perspective, a highly visible symptom of a systemic problem that’s choking the life out of this country and our culture and our everyday lives. Occupy is a reinvigoration of the heart of the nation, and I’m sorry that I just rhymed, but the point still stands.

“God forbid we should ever be twenty years without such a rebellion. The people cannot be all, and always, well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented, in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions, it is lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty. … What country before ever existed a century and half without a rebellion? And what country can preserve its liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure.”

Thomas Jefferson said that in 1787, in a letter to William Stephens Smith, a member of New York’s House of Representatives. If that isn’t a pretty decent description of Occupy – at least, the ethos if not the behavior – I’m not sure what is.

But what are we protesting? Why are we taking arms against this sea of troubles?

Why am I about to publicly state that I, a student at a prominent business school, stand with the Occupy movement?

Let me talk about ukuleles, and specifically an amazing song about them which is NSFW and I think you should blast as loud as the speakers on your office computer can go anyway.

For too much of the 20th century, I think we were, as a culture, told that art is the purview of “artists” – specialized people who suffer or bleed or have some unique spark in their minds that lets them Create. We, the masses, can only watch the art be made, and then we need to pay the artists so that we can enjoy their creations. It was all about the performance, not the community.

Now, I want to say really quickly that I completely believe in compensating artists for what they do. Hell, I’m a writer and a musician, and I put a lot of work into those things and would love to sustain myself with them. I paid five bucks to download the MP3 of that Amanda Palmer song, which you can just get for free [here] or listen to through that YouTube link or do any number of hinky things to get a copy of. I didn’t need to pay for it – I did it because I appreciate Amanda as an artist and want her to have my five dollars.

My problem is the cognitive disconnect between artistry as a profession and the misconception that Only Paid Artists Can Do Art Things.

That’s bullshit, and I think the ukulele is a great metaphor for this. We can all pick one up, fuck around on it, and have a good time. Make yourself happy, make friends smile, have something to all sing along and laugh with. You don’t always have to rely on professionals to entertain you.

It’s not just with music, either. We all are becoming more and more hyperspecialized, because in this economy we’re told we need to stand out, be some unique thing that nobody else is. Well, I’m fucking confused, I thought the point of being alive was to be a unique person.

I love specialization. I love the fact that there are people out on the Web that I can get ahold of who do totally different things from me, and we can collaborate and accomplish what I’m incapable of doing. But I think that’s a terrible way to do everything in my life. Become a generalist. Go pick up that ukulele, learn how to make an omelet and write a sonnet, and then go ride a mountain bike.

We Occupy because we’re sick of this world that forces us to be specialists. When we overspecialize we become too reliant on the system, on the people we can’t control, just so that we can survive. The system – at least on our end – becomes fragile, because ordered systems are inherently unstable. Entropy is the natural order of things.

I’m not advocating anarchy, but community.

I really don’t know how to fix this fucked-up country we live in. Hell, I’m struggling to just make this blog coherent. But these are words that’ve been rattling around my head for two months, as I’ve been hearing reports from protests across the country. I’ve had friends on the front lines at Oakland and Wall Street. I’m worried for their safety, when all they’re trying to do is make their voices heard in a democracy.

I don’t know how to fix things. But I do know that as citizens of a democracy, it’s our responsibility to come together as a community and find a solution best befitting the nation.

I’m 23. I was lucky enough to have my family pay for my undergraduate degree. I don’t have to pay my own cell phone bill. I have a pretty decent car. I can waste some of my income collecting Pokémon cards. I’m getting an MBA.

I’m taking on $100,000 in loans to GET that MBA. I’m irresponsible with money. I’m lonely every night because my girlfriend is on the other side of the country desperately trying to finish her own degree before her money runs out.

I have no fucking clue what percent that puts me in. But I stand with Occupy.

And I’m going to go buy a ukulele tomorrow.