JUSTIN NOT COOL
The Corsair recently posted a reference to a story about Justin Timberlake admitting to using drugs. (Original story here.)
Ron puts the "revelation" in perspective: "Justin Timberlake's clumsy attempt to craft himself as more prettyboy, more grittyboy are as amusing as they are doomed to abject failure. Nothing about Timberlake, we cannot fail to note, suggests Edge."
True, true. What I wonder, however, is whether or not drug use on anyone's part can be considered Edge. Aren't we over the drug thing yet?
Maybe I've lost my perspective on this, living in California as I do; and having been a reader of books by noted drug aficionados like William Burroughs and Phillip K. Dick; and a listener of songs by--well, everyone who's ever scored a record deal.
Isn't it safe to say that, what with all of the steroid scandals in baseball, the prescription drug scandals of noted squares, and the omnipresent availability of mood-altering substances at any gathering of the general population over a certain size, the frequent trips through the revolving-door of rehab taken by any number of celebrities, that we've gotten a little used to the whole drug thing?
Letting one's drug use slip out during an interview is not the royal road to street cred that it once might have been--in fact, it's an action based on a false premise.
In the 1960's drugs were seen as a tool to unleash the creative powers of the mind, a way of differentiating oneself from the established patterns of parents and authority-figures, and, we mustn't forget, a really good time. In the 1970's they were a way of dulling pervasive feelings alienation and, in the their quality and quantity, as a status symbol. In the 80's they were used as an indicator of urban decay and rising violence.
If there was any time in which one could expect drug use to indicate that somebody was a bad-ass, it would be the 1980's, but that's not quite right either. Drug use in the 80's wasn't credible--it was sick and sad and desperate. The bad-asses were the guys selling the stuff; they were the ones waging war in the American streets.
Was Justin's confession intended to conjure up images of Pookie from New Jack City? Probably not. Was he going for a 1970's drugs-as-glamour thing? Noting that he didn't trot out the old, "Crack is Wack" line, no. Was he after a little of that 1960's space-case, artist-genius elan? Oh hell no. So, what was he going for?
I think he was aiming for the "I'm just plain folks" image. Consider that famous people inhabit a world where they can have anything they want, albeit briefly; for these folks, scoring drugs is a doddle. A lot of them do drugs because they have difficutly regulating their emotions and plenty of access to chemicals that will do it for them. Maybe Justin wanted to project a little, "I'm totally normal by the standards of my environment," action.
Middle-class folks have their drugs too: the daily morning score from Starbuck's on the way to work, the terrible-but-always-brewing office coffee, the evening beer that takes the edge off, the well-dressed winos talking out of their asses in restaurants with decor more creative than the food they serve, and the smokers who can only muster a deep breath when it's through a Marlboro (like me).
Everybody's on something. And that's what makes Justin's sad little normal guy routine so pathetic. He's forgotten what it's like to not be famous, but is trying to convince us that he's like us. Awww.
Ron puts the "revelation" in perspective: "Justin Timberlake's clumsy attempt to craft himself as more prettyboy, more grittyboy are as amusing as they are doomed to abject failure. Nothing about Timberlake, we cannot fail to note, suggests Edge."
True, true. What I wonder, however, is whether or not drug use on anyone's part can be considered Edge. Aren't we over the drug thing yet?
Maybe I've lost my perspective on this, living in California as I do; and having been a reader of books by noted drug aficionados like William Burroughs and Phillip K. Dick; and a listener of songs by--well, everyone who's ever scored a record deal.
Isn't it safe to say that, what with all of the steroid scandals in baseball, the prescription drug scandals of noted squares, and the omnipresent availability of mood-altering substances at any gathering of the general population over a certain size, the frequent trips through the revolving-door of rehab taken by any number of celebrities, that we've gotten a little used to the whole drug thing?
Letting one's drug use slip out during an interview is not the royal road to street cred that it once might have been--in fact, it's an action based on a false premise.
In the 1960's drugs were seen as a tool to unleash the creative powers of the mind, a way of differentiating oneself from the established patterns of parents and authority-figures, and, we mustn't forget, a really good time. In the 1970's they were a way of dulling pervasive feelings alienation and, in the their quality and quantity, as a status symbol. In the 80's they were used as an indicator of urban decay and rising violence.
If there was any time in which one could expect drug use to indicate that somebody was a bad-ass, it would be the 1980's, but that's not quite right either. Drug use in the 80's wasn't credible--it was sick and sad and desperate. The bad-asses were the guys selling the stuff; they were the ones waging war in the American streets.
Was Justin's confession intended to conjure up images of Pookie from New Jack City? Probably not. Was he going for a 1970's drugs-as-glamour thing? Noting that he didn't trot out the old, "Crack is Wack" line, no. Was he after a little of that 1960's space-case, artist-genius elan? Oh hell no. So, what was he going for?
I think he was aiming for the "I'm just plain folks" image. Consider that famous people inhabit a world where they can have anything they want, albeit briefly; for these folks, scoring drugs is a doddle. A lot of them do drugs because they have difficutly regulating their emotions and plenty of access to chemicals that will do it for them. Maybe Justin wanted to project a little, "I'm totally normal by the standards of my environment," action.
Middle-class folks have their drugs too: the daily morning score from Starbuck's on the way to work, the terrible-but-always-brewing office coffee, the evening beer that takes the edge off, the well-dressed winos talking out of their asses in restaurants with decor more creative than the food they serve, and the smokers who can only muster a deep breath when it's through a Marlboro (like me).
Everybody's on something. And that's what makes Justin's sad little normal guy routine so pathetic. He's forgotten what it's like to not be famous, but is trying to convince us that he's like us. Awww.
