"There were very few genuinely alternative people left in cities that could afford to be genuinely alternative. The ones who remained either had roommates stacked deep in Bushwick or family money they didn’t talk about. Perhaps they made it into the mainstream economy that slowly removed the edges that made them 'alternative.'"
I saw this in NYC, when I moved there in 2007. I had left the enlisted army, was a CCNY student, and lived in Wash Heights... but I dated CU girls and had enough rich friends to thoroughly apprehend that slice of the culture. I was struck by how empty, shallow, PERFORMATIVE everything seemed. I was partly drawn there by a youth of reading Kerouac and Burroughs. I was thoroughly disappointed. I was disappointed by hood culture as well, although not as much and in different ways.
My point is that our elites seem to be bled of all vitality and authenticity. And I sense that, on some level, they understand this.
“For young, upper middle class, suburban cis white men growing up in an environment of uncertainty, these subculture provide a fantasy safe space similar to Disney, Broadway, and Harry Potter for young women and queer people, and anime and video gaming for every young person today. The preachers also go hard, like I just heard a trad sermon on hell that said that if you die in a state of sin, you are basically at the bottom of a giant hole, and reparation is about putting dirt back into the hole. Now this appeals to people with liberal parents who want a dad. Especially men who grew up in a divorced family.”
Yep end of the fifties I college dropped out & hitchhiked from Gainesville (Halfway between Jacksonville and nowhere back then.) to NYC, basement apartmented in East Village, monotoned my (Cough) deathless freeverse coffeehousing. remember party meeting listening to a guy with a a guitar and a mouthharp thinkin' he just might amount to something someday and the Five Spot near Cooper Union where any and every name in Jazz from Harlem through Broadway would swing by after hours, point and counterpoint for hours. Lots and lots of lots and lots.
Four years and then cheers, on the road to the tip top very end of the road, Fairbanks, Alaska, far more than our fair share of crazies as they'd get here, one road in and out of town, so the only place they could go from here was back there. Hobo Jim; young he guitared bars throughout the state, usually breaking a string early on and played and sang around it through the rest of the set. Mark Trail; not his real name but I called him that as he often wore a safari jacket, ran Pioneer Park and the zoo therein. I'd swing by after the park closed for the day, folks all gone. He'd leash the bear and he & I would take him out of his compound for a walk around the park, something all three of us quite enjoyed!
The point I'm aiming but not hitting; crazies. lazies, contents, discontents, makers, shakers, breakers you look you'll find them be you at 7th street & Avenue B, NYC or in downtown Sitka on the western sea (I used to rag on beautiful downtown Sitka back in the day; it had one of every thing, one bar, one PI, one private detective, one published novelist, one goth girl, 3.7 latter day hippies, and 6 churches of course.), alternative cultures are still here , there, everywhere around the next corner no matter what the ('nother cough) influencers nay say.
Didn’t the subcultures of the 70’s–90’s go all fascist-totalitarian in the new century? In other words, they no longer wanted to occupy a niche, they wanted to be recognized for how special and virtuous they were, and everyone’s face had to be pushed down into it. In other words, they became the Progressive Left and kept the facial piercings, weird hair, and gender-theater.
My 70s version of Diner Goth was hanging out with assorted aesthetic misfits, eating pie at a diner overlooking the Susquehanna River in a depressed, post-industrial city, and if you know the Susquehanna River, you know the sort of city. Tuition at the state university was so affordable and rents were so cheap that it was possible to be an eternal student. Time seemed to teeter on the brink, going nowhere. Those were the days.
There's certainly something to the thought that the having a place for the nightwalker lifestyle enables some of the subculture. There was a period - perhaps the late nineties and early oughts - when you could find a lot of places open twenty-four hours, not just Dennys but even Home Depot and the like; the thought that the "city that never sleeps" wasn't just a New York or Tokyo vibe but a buzz of (post)modern life was somehow exhilarating. And then somehow that all reversed and everything started closing early again, whether because the economic boom wore off or because the nannies took over or just nobody but Walter White's crowd actually wanted to buy power tools at 3 AM. It's very cyclical - a few years later, it was hard to find a 24-hour pharmacy or even grocery store without driving halfway across the city, and your local 7-11 might close the same time as the local bar. Now it seems to be opening up for later night again, and we have 24-hour fitness clubs and some 24-hour restaurants. I haven't exactly mapped out the demographics of who attends at what hours - and I'm sure that's going to be at least as regionally dependent (and age-bracket-dependent), but the colorful adornments from hair to jewelry to other body art have definitely mainstreamed.
Diners and subcultures go hand in hand , hence the infamous "Rock 'n' Roll Denny's", Canters and Ben Frank's. All were go-to spots after whatever club you were at closed.
Type-O-Negative forever.
Outstanding, Rachel.
"There were very few genuinely alternative people left in cities that could afford to be genuinely alternative. The ones who remained either had roommates stacked deep in Bushwick or family money they didn’t talk about. Perhaps they made it into the mainstream economy that slowly removed the edges that made them 'alternative.'"
I saw this in NYC, when I moved there in 2007. I had left the enlisted army, was a CCNY student, and lived in Wash Heights... but I dated CU girls and had enough rich friends to thoroughly apprehend that slice of the culture. I was struck by how empty, shallow, PERFORMATIVE everything seemed. I was partly drawn there by a youth of reading Kerouac and Burroughs. I was thoroughly disappointed. I was disappointed by hood culture as well, although not as much and in different ways.
My point is that our elites seem to be bled of all vitality and authenticity. And I sense that, on some level, they understand this.
https://jmpolemic.substack.com/p/our-ruling-class
“For young, upper middle class, suburban cis white men growing up in an environment of uncertainty, these subculture provide a fantasy safe space similar to Disney, Broadway, and Harry Potter for young women and queer people, and anime and video gaming for every young person today. The preachers also go hard, like I just heard a trad sermon on hell that said that if you die in a state of sin, you are basically at the bottom of a giant hole, and reparation is about putting dirt back into the hole. Now this appeals to people with liberal parents who want a dad. Especially men who grew up in a divorced family.”
https://substack.com/@squirrelpoop/p-187754588
Diner goth? Way way before I was.
Yep end of the fifties I college dropped out & hitchhiked from Gainesville (Halfway between Jacksonville and nowhere back then.) to NYC, basement apartmented in East Village, monotoned my (Cough) deathless freeverse coffeehousing. remember party meeting listening to a guy with a a guitar and a mouthharp thinkin' he just might amount to something someday and the Five Spot near Cooper Union where any and every name in Jazz from Harlem through Broadway would swing by after hours, point and counterpoint for hours. Lots and lots of lots and lots.
Four years and then cheers, on the road to the tip top very end of the road, Fairbanks, Alaska, far more than our fair share of crazies as they'd get here, one road in and out of town, so the only place they could go from here was back there. Hobo Jim; young he guitared bars throughout the state, usually breaking a string early on and played and sang around it through the rest of the set. Mark Trail; not his real name but I called him that as he often wore a safari jacket, ran Pioneer Park and the zoo therein. I'd swing by after the park closed for the day, folks all gone. He'd leash the bear and he & I would take him out of his compound for a walk around the park, something all three of us quite enjoyed!
The point I'm aiming but not hitting; crazies. lazies, contents, discontents, makers, shakers, breakers you look you'll find them be you at 7th street & Avenue B, NYC or in downtown Sitka on the western sea (I used to rag on beautiful downtown Sitka back in the day; it had one of every thing, one bar, one PI, one private detective, one published novelist, one goth girl, 3.7 latter day hippies, and 6 churches of course.), alternative cultures are still here , there, everywhere around the next corner no matter what the ('nother cough) influencers nay say.
Didn’t the subcultures of the 70’s–90’s go all fascist-totalitarian in the new century? In other words, they no longer wanted to occupy a niche, they wanted to be recognized for how special and virtuous they were, and everyone’s face had to be pushed down into it. In other words, they became the Progressive Left and kept the facial piercings, weird hair, and gender-theater.
My 70s version of Diner Goth was hanging out with assorted aesthetic misfits, eating pie at a diner overlooking the Susquehanna River in a depressed, post-industrial city, and if you know the Susquehanna River, you know the sort of city. Tuition at the state university was so affordable and rents were so cheap that it was possible to be an eternal student. Time seemed to teeter on the brink, going nowhere. Those were the days.
There's certainly something to the thought that the having a place for the nightwalker lifestyle enables some of the subculture. There was a period - perhaps the late nineties and early oughts - when you could find a lot of places open twenty-four hours, not just Dennys but even Home Depot and the like; the thought that the "city that never sleeps" wasn't just a New York or Tokyo vibe but a buzz of (post)modern life was somehow exhilarating. And then somehow that all reversed and everything started closing early again, whether because the economic boom wore off or because the nannies took over or just nobody but Walter White's crowd actually wanted to buy power tools at 3 AM. It's very cyclical - a few years later, it was hard to find a 24-hour pharmacy or even grocery store without driving halfway across the city, and your local 7-11 might close the same time as the local bar. Now it seems to be opening up for later night again, and we have 24-hour fitness clubs and some 24-hour restaurants. I haven't exactly mapped out the demographics of who attends at what hours - and I'm sure that's going to be at least as regionally dependent (and age-bracket-dependent), but the colorful adornments from hair to jewelry to other body art have definitely mainstreamed.
Diners and subcultures go hand in hand , hence the infamous "Rock 'n' Roll Denny's", Canters and Ben Frank's. All were go-to spots after whatever club you were at closed.