Revolutionary Revelation (Spoiler Alert!)

I finally watched Revolutionary Road last night and was quite impressed. For whatever reason, I expected it to be something of a 50s chick flick starring the classic couple Kate Winslet and Leonardo Dicaprio. I thought it’d be kind of like a Titanic 2: Had Jack Held On and Skipped a Few Decades. It was nowhere near as lighthearted and cute as I expected it to be. Rather, it made me actually think and draw connections to the wise words of the 20th Century French Philosophers I had recently grown so fond of, thanks to Professor Rudavsky and a less than lucrative major.

In the movie, Ms. Winslet’s wonderfully portrayed April is dissatisfied with her life. She is an aspiring actress who finds the American Dream—the perfect nuclear family in the perfect suburban neighborhood—to be blasé. She feels trapped by all of the institutions to which she has succumbed, including marriage, having children, and becoming a perfect stay-at-home mother. She yearns for something more—something authentic that allows her to be free of societal restraints. She decides that this authenticity comes in the form of moving to Paris, or really, anywhere besides the little suburban town she has grown so sickly used to.

Leo’s character, Frank, fleetingly endorses then dismisses his wife’s idea. He aspires to be a cashier while working as a docker. He is eventually offered a promotion, the reason why he rejects the idea of Paris (along with his wife’s happiness and his own chance to seek out what he actually wants in life). April constantly reminds Frank that there is no point in living when one has everything but hates his job, something he has to go to everyday that eventually defines him. This reminded me of Marx’s Estranged Labor. Marx described the unsatisfactory work of laborers who slaved away in factories, doing monotonous and repetitive tasks. Frank’s job is not too much different. This labor, according to Marx, takes the essence away from a human being. He becomes merely a machine. Sartre agrees, suggesting that falling into a societal role is inauthentic living. It is rejecting one’s freedom and ability to be a genuine individual.

There is a young man who routinely visits April and Frank with his parents. Aside from April, he is the only character in the movie who speaks his mind and says things as they are. He bluntly criticizes others, including Frank, with naked statements that are not glossed over by what is socially polite. This young man is a mental patient who has received electroconvulsive therapy multiple times. Because he does not conform and follow the social norm, he is deemed insane by his parents and society. Ultimately, April finds herself in the same position as the young man. She realizes that she does not fit in with all those around her who somehow find meaning and joy in their closed-off, monotonous lives. Upon realizing that Paris is not an option because of Frank and her third, unborn and unwanted child, April sees that she has only one escape. And that escape, to her, is more desirable than succumbing to an inauthentic life in which she feels like she is suffocating.

Suicide was April’s only escape. Most existential philosophers, however, do not condone it. They believe that there is a way for individuals to maintain their freedom without embracing death, even if it means living alone “underground,” watching the rest of society carry on above ground. Instead of killing herself, April should have used protection and moved to Istanbul! That would have made for an interesting Revolutionary Road 2. But honestly, I can see where April is coming from. While I love my suburban hometown and my family, I definitely want to explore bigger, better places. We all should. We only live once.

Ultimate Freedom: A Brief Analysis According to 3 Great Philosophers

In Nietzsche’s The Gay Science, the Madman goes to a marketplace in order to deliver the message that “God is dead” and that “we’ve killed him” to the people. However, he soon realizes he is the messenger who has come too early. The people he speaks to are still in the ascetic realm and do not realize the importance of the aesthetic. They still believe in the church and Judeo-Christian values and do not understand that the church is merely a catacomb for God, who is dead. And no, God is not dead in a literal sense nor did he once exist. Rather, Nietzsche believes the use of the Christian God for moral reasoning is no longer functional in society. The church represents inauthenticity. It is a structured institution that keeps people in line, providing them with security and comfort. This, however, limits peoples’ freedom and choices. This is further depicted by Nietzsche’s herd mentality in the sense that those who are part of organized religion go along with the crowd. They are just part of the masses rather than the Dionysion individual that Nietzsche pushes. Both Sartre and Camus reflect Nietzsche’s view of God in their works, emphasizing individual freedoms and choices representative of the Dionysion individual.

Sartre enforces that “freedom is existence, and in it existence precedes essence.” This means that we are not born into who we are, but rather our actions and choices in life define who we are. Thus, God does not instill a sense of purpose into our lives at birth. The defining of oneself happens at every given moment, so one must always be cognizant of his or her actions. This freedom of choice is the crux of Sartre’s beliefs. It represents authentic living. The opposite of authentic living is “bad faith,” introduced in Being and Nothingness. An example of bad faith is allowing roles to take over one’s life, making our actions monotonous and restricted. In this case, we are not free. “A grocer who dreams is offensive to the buyer, because such a grocer is not wholly a grocer. Society demands that he limits himself to his function as a grocer… There are indeed many precautions to imprison a man in what he is” (Being and Nothingness, 336). Similarly, the Christian that Nietzsche describes only plays a role. He prays, reads the Bible, goes to Church, and devotes his life to God within a societal institution. This represents the same kind of inauthentic living and bad faith as does the grocer who is trapped in his role by the imprisonment of society. Both the Christian and the grocer surrender their freedom for a secure role in a societal collective. Nietzsche and Sartre frown down upon this.

Like Nietzsche, Camus rejects God in his work, The Stranger. A Christian chaplain tries to convert the protagonist Meursault before he is to be put to death for his crime of murder. The chaplain tells Meursault that God can help him. Meursault, however, refuses this. He says, “I didn’t want anybody’s help, and I just didn’t have the time to interest myself in what didn’t interest me” (The Stranger, 117). This is because Meursault recognizes the absurdity of life. Life has no greater meaning or purpose; the world does not provide a basis for human value. This is related to the “Death of God” and how Judeo-Christian values, including a belief in a life of purpose as well as an afterlife, do not apply. Meursault ultimately embraces “the gentle indifference of the world” (The Stranger, 122). He accepts the absurdity of the world and his imminent death. In fact, he finds freedom in the execution that awaits him. “They were announcing departures for a world that now and forever meant nothing to me. For the first time in a long time I thought about Maman… So close to death, Maman must have felt free then and ready to live it all again” (The Stranger, 122). With this passage, Camus addresses the inevitability of death. There is no discussion of an afterlife. Thus, it is implied that one should not live a Christian lifestyle in order to look forward to an afterlife. Rather, one should place more urgency on his or her “projects” in life, knowing that death in inevitable. These “projects” include our actions and choices made based on free will.

The Sacrifice: Silly Existentialists

Because I am somehow struggling to really understand Kierkegaard and the crazy existentialists the second time around (and because I'm too lazy to blog something original), I thought I'd post this nice little paper circa my Freshman year of college, a time during which I seemed to have a better understanding of them.

Abraham is commonly believed to be the Father of Faith, a highly esteemed follower of God, among believers of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. However, on a universal level, Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac, is nothing short of murder. In Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, the narrator Johannes de silentio makes light of the situation, seeking justification and understanding for Abraham’s actions. Throughout the text, Johannes notes that Abraham is a revered biblical figure because of his ability to rise above the universal good through a “teleological suspension of the ethical” (85). He also finds that Abraham is a “knight of faith” (75), one who accepts something as impossible but also absurdly believes it to be possible under God. This paradox lies in the fact that Abraham is willing to sacrifice Isaac but also fully believes that God will not take his son. This belief depicts that the ethics of religion lie in the “strength of the absurd” (75). The reason behind the absurdity is Abraham’s unyielding faith. However, the concept of Abraham’s faith in the text is ambiguous and paradoxical. It is not understood, and thus, a weak defense. Due to the fact that the main opposing argument in Abraham’s defense is his faith, Abraham is not justified in his willingness to sacrifice Isaac.

As a preface to my objection, I will explain the importance of universal law. According to the book, “The ethical as such is the universal, and as the universal it applies to everyone, which can be put from another point of view by saying that it applies at every moment” (83). There are moral principles that all people in a community share and should therefore dictate the actions of the individuals within the community. These unified moral principles become universal laws, which apply to everyone at every moment. All individuals must abide by the universal law, whereas only certain individuals believe in and embrace religious law. Religious law affects every individual differently, as was the case with Abraham, and is not comprehensible to all those who exist. If every individual firmly believed and carried out actions set by his own moral standings, the community of people would eventually fall apart. It is usually the case that the people of the land, who have a collective ethical standing, create governmental law. This law may not be perfect and may be relative to the era and country. However, once determined, it is perceivable and understood by nearly everyone in that society on an equal level. Murder, which imposes on another’s right to live, is commonly condemned.

Thus, I will argue that Abraham is guilty in his attempt to sacrifice his son because it is unjustified based on the universal law. Furthermore, I will explain certain acts of sacrifice that are condonable because of their outcomes. Abraham’s act is not condonable by that standard either. According to the text, Hegelian ethics supports the universal law, but also endorses the tragic hero. With the tragic hero, there are exceptions that absolve certain situations of sacrifice. It states that universal goodness entails actions that are carried out with a particular end purpose that benefits the universal whole. The highest good comes from being a tragic hero, one who benefits society through sacrifice. Although this sacrifice may entail death, it is beneficial to others overall and is therefore justified. For example, a member of the Roman State is entrusted with the “sword of judgment,” the responsibility to uphold the law. The law demands punishment for wrongdoing, even if the culprit is his own son. “Nobly will he hide his pain, but in the nation there will be not one, not even the son, who fails to admire the father” (87)… This is similar to the death sentence of modern day United States, in which the government must sacrifice the lives of certain individuals to preserve the safety of others and to appease those who seek justice because their loved ones were victims. As mentioned earlier, a tragic hero’s sacrifice is understood by every “noble soul in the world” (87). The people aware of the situation will sympathize for the tragic hero’s pain and shed tears of admiration. On the contrary, Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac does not abide by the law of the land. Whereas the Roman’s execution of his son was lawful and served a greater, “noble” purpose, Abraham would be murdering his son for no understood reason. His supposed connection with God is the experience of a single individual that is by no means universal. The sacrifice is instead “private undertaking… an act of purely personal virtue” (88). The presumed demand from God is a trial; Abraham would be sacrificing Isaac for the sake of God because God seeks this proof of his faith. The act itself would be considered senseless murder based on the universal law. Few individuals would be able to fully sympathize with Abraham; many would likely dub him insane rather than praise him.

I will now provide a response to the objection by first portraying religious law as morally superior to universal law. Large groups of people in communities can become corrupt and create laws that are immoral. However, these depraved laws are still carried out. A conventional example would be the Nazis of Germany who believed that it was morally sound to rid the world of the Jews and other groups of people for “ethnic cleansing.” A large majority firmly believed in this cause, but ultimately, it is viewed to be a heinous crime. While universal law can be cruel and flawed, the “world of spirit” (57) is ideal and fair. Based on the religious law in the world if spirit, “only one who works gets bread, and only one who knows anguish finds rest, only one who descends to the underworld saves the loved one, only one who draws the knife gets Isaac” (57). It apparently transcends the universal world and its logic. According to the book, those who call Abraham insane for his paradoxical faith do not know of the world of spirit because they themselves do not have faith. These people, no matter how many, are blinded and do “not have the courage to understand [faith]” (105). Johannes states that, “Faith is a marvel, and yet no human being is excluded from it; for that in which all human life is united is passion, and faith is a passion” (95). Therefore, all people have the ability for faith and religious understanding. If everyone chose to follow God through faith, it would be another universal property, like the universal law of the land. Furthermore, those who choose to have faith have the potential to engage in the world of spirit, which is a step above the universal in righteousness. Among those who do embrace religion, faith is the apex of human goodness. It is the gateway to the world of spirit, and Abraham displayed the strongest faith among man with his potential sacrifice.

The response to the objection relies on what is understood about Abraham’s faith, which is more enduring than the duties of the tragic hero, before the sacrifice. Through his faith, Abraham is able to identify with the world of spirit. Although many cannot sympathize with Abraham, those who have also risen above the universal are able to. As mentioned in the objection, Abraham’s test of faith was a private matter between only himself and God that did not benefit the greater good. In contrast to that belief, it appears that the knowledge of this test eventually becomes a widespread and traditional lesson. Abraham becomes “God’s chosen” and a hero for all those who have faith and also seek the spiritual world. This lesson proves that Abraham is “the single individual, who, having been subordinate to the universal as the particular, now by means of the universal becomes that individual who, as the particular, stands in an absolute relation to the absolute” (85). This is known as “teleological suspension of the ethical,” in which one oversteps the ethical and reaches a higher telos (purpose) outside of it. Abraham reaches this higher goal and does so by resisting temptation. Johannes describes temptation as something that keeps a person from carrying out a duty. In Abraham’s case, the temptation is the ethical, which would prevent him from following God’s will. “But then what is the duty? For the duty is precisely the expression of God’s will” (88). Abraham can only carry out this sacrifice if he loves Isaac with all his soul “for it is indeed this love of Isaac that in its paradoxical opposition to his love of God makes his act a sacrifice” (101). If he did not love Isaac, it would be a meaningless sacrifice. This sacrifice is a far more difficult duty than the one in which the tragic hero engages. The tragic hero’s struggle ends because he makes the infinite movement and becomes safe in the universal. He is supported and understood by most others in society. The knight of faith, however, is under constant trial and “can turn back in repentance to the universal at any moment, and this possibility can just as well be a temptation as the truth” (105). He is always tempted to turn to the universal and cannot receive enlightenment from anyone else, for no one can truly identify with his task. This makes his sacrifice more powerful and accomplished, because he is abiding by the supreme ethics of the world of spirit.

My next objection suggests that Abraham’s faith is not human passion, but fear and trembling. In addition, I will question God’s benevolence because of his demand from Abraham. The only God who is worthy of worship is one who is benevolent and loving. An individual’s faith in an evil or cruel God does not have much value. If God were completely benevolent, it does not seem likely that he would demand Abraham to murder the one he loved most, Isaac, through whom Abraham would allegedly achieve greatness in the world. Although we do not understand Abraham’s mental state as he went through with the sacrifice, it is likely that anyone in his place would be devastated. Johannes states, “What is left out of the Abraham story is anguish; for while I am under no obligation to money, to a son the father has the highest and most sacred of obligations” (58). In addition, God is not straightforward with Abraham. He finally provides Abraham with a son and the promise that his son will achieve greatness, and then asks for his son to be sacrificed. Overall, this trial from God seems confusing and unfair. He is asking Abraham to readily risk the one whom he loves most as a mere test of faith. God does not appear to be completely benevolent because of this demand. Thus, even though it was God who commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, Abraham would still not be justified because he is following a seemingly cruel God. His faith is not worth anything in this case. Thus, it seems as if Abraham succumbs to this duty because he is fearful of the Lord. Johannes says, “If it should fall to my lot to speak of him, I would begin by showing what a devout and God-fearing man Abraham was” (61)… This fear of God would not be considered an admirable or commendable reason for the sacrifice. Yet, this need to fear God is mentioned in both Fear and Trembling and in the Bible. According to the Bible’s passage of Philippians 2:12-13 (NIV), one must “continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.” Aforementioned, there is no direct “good purpose” that comes from the sacrifice of Isaac. In regards to the biblical passage, it follows that Abraham engages in fear and trembling for the purpose of solely proving his faith to strengthen his bond with God. Ideally, one should desire to fulfill faithful duties freely and happily, not through fear.

The response to the objection is that God can contrarily be viewed as very much benevolent, with a specific purpose for his trial. This purpose, which demands Abraham’s faith, justifies Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac. If God is indeed benevolent, he is worthy of Abraham’s faith and it was right of Abraham to abide by God’s command. It is assumed that God, being omnipotent and omniscient, already knows all there is to know about the people on earth, including their level of faith. Therefore, God does not need to test Abraham for God’s sake, but for Abraham to realize his own level of faith because “greater than all was Abraham, great with that power whose strength is powerlessness” (50). There is an entire chapter in the book that applauds Abraham, titled “Speech in Praise of Abraham,” from which the previous quote was taken. Johannes and religious individuals alike exalt Abraham as an exceptional believer. Although he would have been condemned at the time by those around him, he was soon after proclaimed a hero and exemplar because his faith. It may have been God’s will that Abraham realize this about himself—that he is set apart from others as the Father of Faith. This would be akin to God praising Abraham and allowing him to see that he is an honorable follower. Another defense for God’s benevolence and the necessity of faith is the end result of his demand. Abraham’s paradoxical view on the issue of Isaac—that he would have to sacrifice Isaac, but not actually give him up—parallels with the actual conclusion of his act. Isaac was not murdered and taken away from Abraham, but spared. This proves that God’s trial was simply that: a trial for Abraham’s sake, and not a cruel and devastating demand. It was not an arbitrary test, but one that came about when God knew was appropriate. God and Abraham maintained a close, working relationship through which God directly communicated with Abraham. Through this relationship, Abraham learned to trust that God was the father and that God would provide for him. Only after this foundation was built did God desire for Abraham to realize the importance of this intimate connection. Again, a greater good did come about from this trial that God presented, which may have been God’s good intention. Abraham set the standard for the faithful and became a model for every believer around the world, throughout the ages.

Although Abraham may be considered a heroic biblical figure to faithful believers, he remains an enigma to a majority of people, including everyday individuals, students, scholars, philosophers, and atheists. On a realistic and logical level, most people are unable to identity with Abraham and cannot condone his readiness to sacrifice his son. Furthermore, Abraham’s faith is so paradoxical that “it cannot be thought” (85) and lies on the strength of the absurd. Johannes commends Abraham’s faith, but fails to fully comprehend him and says, “Thus while Abraham arouses my admiration, he also appalls me” (89). The argument of faith, especially in the sense that Abraham believed he would both sacrifice and keep Isaac, is inconclusive and perplexing to everyone besides God and Abraham. The result of the sacrifice was a small miracle that occurred in that unique situation, but would prove to be detrimental to any others who believe it is okay to mimic the situation to strengthen their faith. In simple terms, a modern day father willing to murder his son for a supposedly higher purpose unbeknownst to others would be considered a criminal in almost all societies across the world, whether he actually has that religious calling or not. He would be disrupting the judiciary system, made by the people for the people, which ultimately overrides the individual.

I Want to Live Where Soul Meets Body

This is an old paper, written in Spring Quarter of last year. I enjoy my musings here. I was reminded of this after this week's History of Ancient Philosophy classes. Moral: Hedonism can be okay... sometimes.


In Plato’s Phaedo, in which he is a mouthpiece for Socrates, Plato thinks that men who have spent their lives in philosophy should in no way fear death. Instead, they should accept and embrace death for it is only after death that these men can attain “the great blessings yonder” (101, 63e). Socrates has no fear of death, expecting to join the company of good men after he has passed. According to Plato, the philosopher is freer than other men because he liberates his soul from association with the body as much as possible. He acknowledges that human beings are comprised of both the body and soul but sees the body as a barrier to wisdom. When the soul is freed from the body after death, it is finally able to come by the knowledge philosophers seek.

I do not agree with this view; instead, I deem the body entirely necessary for the soul to achieve great wisdom. It is only through the combination of the soul with the body that life is sustained. Furthermore, it is only through life that humans can experience both worldly pleasure and suffering. Consequently, it is only through experiences—pleasure and suffering—and learning that humans can gain wisdom. Finally, it is only after humans develop wisdom that they can carry it with them when their souls are released from their bodies.

According to Plato’s claim, the soul is the key to true wisdom. On the other hand, Plato views the body as an obstacle that impedes the ability of the soul to reason well; “the soul reasons best when none of these senses troubles it, neither hearing nor sight, nor pain nor pleasure, but when it is most by itself” (page 102, 65c). Plato states that the body also causes many society problems; it causes war, civil discord, battles, and other phenomena that stem from human desire to acquire wealth. While the body is busy seeking idle pleasures and gratifying its needs, it is unable to engage in what is truly important to Plato—philosophy and the truth. Philosophy and the soul’s insight allow for one to truly experience justice, beauty, and wisdom. However, those ideals are impossible for one to understand until he is freed from bodily distractions.

Plato states that in order to achieve true knowledge, the body must be eliminated. This occurs with death, when the soul escapes from the body’s imprisonment. “It seems likely that we shall, only then, when we are dead, attain that which we desire and of which we claim to be lovers, namely, wisdom… either we can never attain knowledge or we can do so after death” (104, 66e-67a). He goes even further by saying that that is why those who practice philosophy do not fear death, but accept it and even look forward to it.

In opposition to Plato, I believe that the body is indispensable to the soul. If it were not, there would be no purpose for souls and bodies to combine; souls would exist on their own at all times and have faultless wisdom. There would be no need for souls to cycle between existence with the body and existence in the underworld where they normally reside. Without the body, life as we know it does not exist. Human beings are defined as unities of the body and soul, and human beings are capable of experiencing life. After death, the soul becomes a separate entity as the body decays and this no longer sustains life. The soul may then achieve wisdom, as Plato describes, but only if life once existed. The soul needs the body so that it can encounter life and worldly experiences and then gain wisdom before its departure. Without life, the soul would not have any experiences to shape itself and one would question why it is that souls go into bodies in the first place.

The soul must unite with the body so that worldly beauties found in life at one time are understood. Without these worldly experiences, souls would have no depth to them. They would be blank slates trapped in the underworld. They would not have perfect wisdom, because it is only through experiences and learning that wisdom is developed. While on earth, the body nourishes the soul and provides it with experiences that later develop into knowledge. Once the soul has this knowledge from life, it can depart from the body with true wisdom.

This wisdom that philosophers crave is attained through life encounters that include both pleasure and suffering. Although many pleasures are perceived to be idle or lead to idle experiences, certain pleasures have worth. Idle pleasures may include gluttony, sloth, and greed. However, the pleasures of spending time with good company, loving another person, and enjoying nature are worthwhile and productive. Although the eyes cannot view the concept of pure beauty, they can view a flower blossoming in the spring as new life is flourishing. This worldly beauty is diminished when the body is gone and the soul can no longer exist in the world. However, the soul retains knowledge of the beauty and carries that knowledge with it to the underworld.

In addition, suffering leads to the acquisition of worldly wisdom. Experiences, whether positive or negative, teach life lessons and provide moral maturity. Those who suffer learn from their afflictions, and if they overcome, can provide wisdom and guidance to others. They may be able to cherish other aspects of life with more fervor. After all, there cannot exist true wisdom without the lack of knowledge and foolishness, which Plato believes is caused by the body. This is explored later in Plato’s Argument of Opposites. The body and the soul combine to form life and wisdom can be obtained through life experiences. Therefore, the body must exist for the soul to acquire wisdom.

Plato would describe the formation of life—the unity of the body and soul—as a naturally occurring cycle. He would not support that it has any worth, only that it is a continual process based on his Argument of Opposites. If life exists, there must be death. The dead come from the living and the living from the dead. Reincarnation is therefore true, and souls must exist in the realm of the dead. Viewing this life cycle as an inevitable process, Plato believes that it is unfortunate for souls to enter bodies. He would argue that the body and soul combine because of the laws of nature; however, it is detrimental for the soul to enter the body. Once it does, it suffers from the body’s endless needs, afflictions, and deceptions. Nothing positive comes from the soul and body joining because the body is imperfect, while the soul is capable of being perfect.

Additionally, Plato would argue that none of the wisdom that philosophers desire can be found on earth where the body dwells. He views the body as incapable of experiencing any aspect of beauty, truth, and justice. He states that “the body confuses the soul and does not allow it to acquire truth and wisdom whenever it is associated with it” (103, 66a). The example of the blossoming flower is not enough of a representation of beauty to sway Plato in his belief that the body is incapable of experiencing what is important. Similarly, Plato views suffering as having no benefits. He believes it is a downfall of the body that distracts people from focusing on philosophy. “The body keeps us busy in a thousand ways because of its need for nurture. Moreover, if certain diseases befall it, they impede our search for the truth” (103, 66b). He does not believe that suffering provides a learning experience in itself; instead, he thinks that the time one spends suffering goes to waste, because it takes time away from philosophical learning.

The main discrepancy between Plato’s argument and mine is our disagreement with the point of the life cycle. I view it as purposeful in the sense that it provides wisdom to the soul with the body as a channel. Additionally, worldly beauties that cannot be perceived in the underworld are presented to the soul through life experiences and are retained after life ends. This contributes to the wisdom one can gain throughout life. Plato views life as an insignificant but unavoidable cycle. He does not see the body as a channel for anything positive, but as a source of hindrance to wisdom that brings about idle pleasures, needs, and diseases.

The Story Behind the Buzzword

My best friend’s a hipster. Or at least that’s what I tell him, contrary to his vehement denial.

His denial is masked by the fact that he’s wildly intelligent, cultured, and likes to skim the The Wall Street Journal through thick-rimmed glasses. He is one of the first people I know to have seen Animal Collective perform live; he afterwards claimed that they were entirely unremarkable and is currently very bored by the likes of Avey Tare. And one day, while I was enjoying múm’s “Green Grass of Tunnel,” he casually remarked that Kría Brekkan happens to be fucking Avey Tare, as if it were common knowledge.

Moreover, his tasteful yet minimal wardrobe, consisting of a host of colorful tri-blend BDG v-necks and skinny jeans, could have come straight out of an American Apparel catalogue. And when it comes to his music preferences, eclectic just barely covers it. His perpetual fondness for David Bowie is only ever challenged by his long-time favorite metalcore band, Converge; however, he loves Lil Wayne and Explosions in the Sky just as much as the former.

Yet, he is not a hipster. No thanks. He just doesn’t "self-marginalize like that" nor is he an "attention whore." If anything, he’s a self-motivated finance student—pragmatic and over analytical—but bound for success.

So that really makes me wonder what the hell the buzzword “hipster” refers to anyways. Colloquially, it means “that guy with headphones and tight skinny jeans, smoking a Parliament.” As it has been informally adapted into the English language, it is a slang term for young adults who are somewhat nonconforming to mainstream aspects of society, such as fashion and culture (music, movies, and media). According to the 2009 TIME article, “Hipsters,” the term was first introduced in the 1940s, coined after the jazz age (when those who appreciated the scene were called “hip”), and revived in nineties and 21st century.

In the beginning, there were Beatniks, such as author Jack Kerouac and poet Allen Ginsberg. Hipsters of the Beat Generation, much like Kerouac, aimlessly traveled the country, bumming off of others and eating out of trashcans, hoping to derive some deeper meaning in life that way. These individuals then morphed into our well-known tree-hugging and peace-loving hippies of the 60s and 70s. They then died out for quite some time until the nineties grunge kids emerged, never short of all things retro or Converse sneakers. These pop culture movements have combined and merged into what we know today as modern hipsters.

According to the previously stated TIME article, "Hipsters are the friends who sneer when you cop to liking Coldplay. They're the people who wear t-shirts silk-screened with quotes from movies you've never heard of and the only ones in America who still think Pabst Blue Ribbon is a good beer. They sport cowboy hats and berets and think Kanye West stole their sunglasses. Everything about them is exactingly constructed to give off the vibe that they just don't care."

Furthermore, Rob Horning, the author of "The Death of the Hipster" in the webzine PopMatters, considers hipsters to be the "embodiment of postmodernism as a spent force, revealing what happens when pastiche and irony exhaust themselves as aesthetics." He claims that the term “hipster” is defined by a lack of authenticity, laden with capitalistic exploits and the constant selling out of alternative sources.

This is perhaps what my best friend thinks of the word hipster—someone who gives off an inauthentic image, constantly searching for some source of superficial personal identity.

On the other hand, Urban Dictionary tells me that “hipsters are a subculture of men and women typically in their 20's and 30's that value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter.” This is also known as people who have good taste—people who explore politics, culture, art, music, or whatever it may be beyond the basic realm of what mainstream society has to offer.

So despite the somewhat negative connotation of the phony and uninspired individual, this is what I think of when I think hipster. So in that case, the fact that I believe my best friend to be a hipster still holds true. And not only that—Urban Dictionary tells me that hipsters always deny their hipsterdom. Case in point.

Our Unofficial Official Language Is All We’ve Got: The Death of Languages

Like most mothers, mine claims I was something of a bright, eager, and intuitive child. I apparently had the ability to speak to her and ask a multitude questions when I was merely one year old, still unable to fully walk. With the desire to reminisce about our earlier life together, she would pop in home videos of me in my infantile years, and indeed, I was constantly babbling nonsensical and curious baby phrases… in Mandarin Chinese.

English? Couldn’t speak a word of it until I was enrolled in my first preschool class, and even then, it was an entirely unfamiliar and frightening concept. These home videos further depict that I had a “fresh-off-the boat” accent as an English-speaking six-year old, collecting colorful Easter eggs and screaming, “Heeey, I founded anudder wong!”

Despite the many hardships of my younger years sans fluency—almost being sent to speech classes in elementary school and enduring the taunts of my more eloquent counterparts—I cling on to what I remember of my parent’s native language, hoping to never completely forget it.

However, a three-week trip in 2005 to every important corner of China taunted me more than the kids back in kindergarten ever did. I was instantly dubbed a foreigner by not only relatives and family friends, but also every street vendor and stranger I encountered. I remember my parents explicitly telling my sisters and I to not utter a word while sitting in a long taxicab ride that would have tripled in price had any of us attempted to speak in Chinese. Again, I was in an unfamiliar and frightening world in which I could not fully communicate what I desired.

Maybe not that frightening. Somewhat surprisingly, almost everyone I encountered in China knew how to speak basic English or at least aspired to learn. Back when my mother was a student, she began learning English in middle school; she claims that many Chinese children today now learn English starting from elementary school. It’s a hot language—many people, like my overachieving cousin, ultimately take the Test of English as a Foreign Language (TOEFL) in hopes of immigrating to America for the customary “better education and standard of living.”

On the other hand, aside from my Asian-American friends, I personally know of few Americans who are able to or aspire to speak Chinese. According to the New York Times article, “China on Path to Become Second-Largest Economy,” China’s economy rose by 10.7 percent in the fourth quarter compared with a year ago, and is progressing forward as other nations are undergoing global recession. Thus, considering China’s skyrocketing economy and newfound global importance in which future businessmen among others will interact, it is odd that so few people choose to pursue learning it.

Despite my belief that few people are willing to learn Chinese, the New York Times article “Foreign Languages Fade in Class — Except Chinese,” shows otherwise. While thousands of public schools stopped teaching foreign languages in the last decade—a very negative trend—many schools in the U.S. are now offering Chinese.

I’m not here to advocate that we replace our unofficial-official national language with Chinese. However, I am stating that America, or at least the America with which I am familiar, is suffering a tragic loss of languages in general. The influx of Chinese classes offered is merely a start to what would solve our country’s linguistical problems, but the deterioration of foreign language classes in general definitely does not help.

There is actually no national language of the United States. Contrary to English-only supporters, I believe that this is not necessarily a bad thing. It allows for people to maintain their native languages, especially if they reside in small communities, say Hispanic neighborhoods or Chinatown. This diversity and cultural myriad is the basis and underlying foundation of America and should be preserved. It is also faintly present in much of our daily life, such as with the foods we eat, which are never really “American” but some form of Americanized ethnic surprise.

This ‘ethnic surprise’ is rarely depicted in how people communicate in actuality and the American media. English, and English alone, seems to be the way to go. The newest Quentin Tarantino film Inglourious Basterds portrays this well with Lieutenant Aldo, the simple and unilingual American—he attempts to speak Italian at some point, but sounds less than articulate.

According to a poll conducted by the Rasmussen Reports in 2009, 84% of Americans say English should be the national language of the United States. While I do not support or refute this, I fully believe that foreign languages should not be completely lost amid the English, whether or not it becomes the national language of our country. The two to four years of high school Spanish, French, German, or Latin required of American students is underwhelming compared to the language requirements of other countries.

The article “Foreign Language Teaching: What the United States Can Learn from Other Countries,” extracted from the Education Resources Information Center, states that “it is well known in the United States that we have not kept up with the rest of the world in providing quality foreign language instruction to our students.”

The 2000 study (conducted by the Center for Applied Linguistics) highlighted in this article compares the education systems of 19 countries, focusing on foreign language instruction. Among these countries are Australia, Austria, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Italy, Finland, and Germany. Of the 19 countries in the study, the United States offers the latest start in foreign language education.

While the starting age for children in the United States to learn Spanish (the primary foreign language learned in our country) is 14 years old, the average for the other countries is around age 8. Furthermore, a few of the countries, such as Australia and Austria, offer foreign language education to students as young as 6 years old.

So while my Mandarin is currently subpar in my opinion, I am thankful I at least retained enough of it to be able to loosely communicate with others who can speak the language. I hope to build upon these skills or take classes to reach the level of fluency I evidently had as a tot. I realize I was lucky enough to be exposed to a foreign language at a very early age—a luxury many U.S. children do not have, but something that is commonplace with many other children around the world.