Influential Person

One of the most influential people in my life is a poet. Or a songwriter. It depends on which one sounds more artistic and poetic. He is the co-founder, co-songwriter, and vocalist of the punk rock band Bad Religion: Greg Graffin I know, the name. That's just where the influence begins for most people.

Who ya gonna call? Crossbusters!

My first Bad Religion (hereafter BR) song was “Let Them Eat War.” I had bought the Rock Against Bush compilation primarily for the Green Day song (I know, I listened to them, I've learned somewhat), but the song immediately thereafter was some catchy song from a band I hadn't heard of. I thought the song was good, but the hip hop artist Sage Francis (who is, to this day, the only hip hop artist to whom I've listened actively) and intellectualism of the lyrics was atypical of most music that I'd heard before then. I bought its source album, The Empire Strikes Back. “Let Them Eat War” and the Star Wars pun sold me.

From there, I bought Against the Grain, and New Maps of Hell, and I was hooked. Their extensive discography spanning 30 years is amazing musically. But this is about Graffin, the songwriter and man. As a songwriter, Graffin doesn't eschew from using large words (and rhyming them!). Example: “Hey moral soldier you've got righteous proclamations/And precious tomes to fuel your pulpy conflagrations,” from “I Want To Conquer the World.” There are enough polysyllabic words to justify a BR Lexicon, and his erudite diction lets him display his intellectualism and even his isolation. But beyond diction, his songs actually prompt thought, something sorely lacking from most music, in my cynical opinion. Songs like “Boot Stamping on a Human Face Forever” (1984 allusion!) actually prompt cathartic reactions and cause me to question my beliefs – almost a Socratic song, if you will. The songs also appeal to my nerdiness, touching on topics ranging from scientific phenomena (“Entropy”) to anthropological topics (“We're Only Gonna Die from Our Own Arrogance”) and their application to humanity (“Big Bang”). His songs have given me the language with which to challenge my thoughts and beliefs, possibly being the catalyst of my transition from Christian to deist to atheist (I would almost argue against this point, but that's irrelevant, one could argue it's possible).

Back to the crossbuster (you've seen the logo, it may have offended you) and band name, why? What started as 15-year-olds thinking of something mildly offensive to bourgeois sensibilities became a provocative and intelligent statement. And if it's still offending you, after reading the thoughts behind the lyrics, think of it as a no-parking sign. It's not against parking. It's against parking here. The irony is the harassment that some feel is warranted by someone displaying the logo, for going “Against the Grain,” so to speak. It's evolved beyond an offensive statement of defiance to the establishment into a statement for free speech, against religion being taught in schools, against automatons, etc.

Ok, so he writes provocative songs with sophisticated diction, so much so that calling them poems is more than warranted. Who is the man, Greg Graffin? At least, that's where the search led me. He has his Ph.D. in zoology from Cornell and teaches at UCLA. Not too shabby; he's Dr. Graffin and knows more about evolution than every young-earth creationist combined. What does this mean though? It gave his songs credibility for me. Furthermore, it showed how influential someone stuck in academia can still be – as a scientist, a songwriter, or even a philosopher. That more than anything solidified my desire to be a professor, the knowledge that I can still make a difference in multiple, seemingly disparate fields – and that that difference can be widespread. And that's more comforting than any bad religion (“synthetic frippery, unnecessary in our expanding global cultural efficiency”), or appeals to ultimate meaning could ever be. And that's exactly what life should be like: filled with enough proximal meaning to make the search for ultimate meaning seem...meaningless.

Early Reading Memory

Horsehead Nebula

I'm sure my actual first reading experience involved picture books with few words, simple plots, and nothing Ms. Tozzi should analyze. But looking back, there's one book that's probably been the most influential book in my life so far: Magnificent Universe, by Ken Croswell. It's a book about the universe, with a layout akin to magazines and content that combines accessibility with astrophysics. I know, I'm surprised I read it too; the book had appendices, how could I have? I probably didn't and focused on the full-page Hubble telescope pictures, skipping the “boring” bits about the solar system. I wanted Oort Cloud at least, preferably black holes. These awesome pictures (look up!) probably influenced me more than the words, but the effect is apparent. This book is largely responsible for not only my generalized nerdiness, but my specialized astrophysical nerdiness. Well, that and Star Wars, but that's another thing entirely.