Oh God, She's Killing Me!

Add 16 ounce energy drinks to the list of things I love that will kill me.

I am quickly becoming an aficionado of NOS, Socko, Rockstar, and even Oklahoma City’s own entry into the market: Ol’ Glory. Ninety-nine cents for 16 ounces of Liberty-Lovin’ power, and it even has the Pledge of Allegiance printed on the back (with the late-added “under god” in all caps). I haven’t done too much research into the health “benefits” of these drinks, for much the same reason that I rarely check my bank balance, so I won’t go out on a limb and make some radical claim like “they’re embalming me!” or “Socko is made of PEOPLE!” Although, Red Bull does have a disquietingly familiar color. There are certain energy beverages that I just will not succumb to, however. Monster, AMP, and Vault come to mind. I also saw a neat little concoction yesterday that claimed to be caffeinated water. Caffeinated water. Take a moment to marvel at the simplicity.

Also, I love my thesis topic, but these films will kill me.

I don’t know if I’ve bored the Internet with my topic, or if I’ve been taking the Who-Cares?-Express door-to-door, but here it is: I’m looking at motorcycle films from the 1950’s & 1960’s as an example of how mainstream culture views subculture. I’m taking as a starting point the idea that the institutions of mass media are beneficiaries of mainstream culture and therefore the content they produce will reinforce the ideas of mainstream culture (i.e. The State) and denigrate ideas and behavior hostile to the continued dominance of said culture. There’s a bit more to it than that, but you get the idea. I’m reading through ethnographies of biker gangs from the time period and then analyzing a bunch of biker films from 1953 (The Wild One) through 1969 (Easy Rider). I’ve learned quite a bit about the culture, which is alternating parts Libertarian and Fascist, Straight-Edge and Boozehound, and I find it fascinating. But the movies... If you ever have the chance to watch these films (for a list, see the post from 04/01/06), just go ahead and run into a wall as hard as you can. It will make the films much more palatable by comparison.

Perhaps there is a by-product created by trying to reinterpret someone else’s culture that makes a film come off as exploitative, hokey, and laughable all at the same time. I’m not saying that the films are too far off in their representation of the culture of motorcycle gangs, but the flavor just isn’t quite right. Perhaps it shouldn’t be.