The Psychology of America

The latest volume of Lapham's Quarterly contains an excellent introduction by the senior editor of the same name.

Lapham argues that corruption is not only tolerated by Americans, but expected through out every aspect of our lives.

The notion of the underdog, the rebel, is ingrained into the fabric of our society, from birth to present day.

Bastard Children of England. Angry sons and daughters of insubordination. We are proud of our antagonist history.

From flipping the bird to the homeland, to taking one of the most vast and diverse landscapes on the planet from the original inhabitants, to meddling in nearly every nation in modern history, we have done what we believe is right. Shooting from the hip, directed by gut.

Americans expect the game to be fixed. And today, perhaps more than ever, as we teeter on the cusp of an undetermined new era, we should examine the strange dichotomy of our collective consciousness.

I recently had the pleasure to spend some time with Kieran Hebden, who's spending the next few months Stateside under his flagship name to tour sold-out venues despite releasing his last full length "Everything Ecstatic" almost four years ago.

The British look at us with a very skeptical, troubled eye. To understand the actions of a child, you need only to analyze the parent. And we have become the boisterous embarrassment of Great Britain.

Picture an old neighborhood, some houses are grand, others meager. Some residents are friends, others do not wave and lock their doors and keep their blinds shut tight.

A new kid moves to the block. He's wealthy, loud, and indignant. Late into the night and on holidays you can hear the bass rattle the walls and windows; somewhere muddled in the thick sound all the neighbors can hear, "I'm the greatest motherfucker in the universe!"

Hebden seemed puzzled, still, by America. "There are no women at my shows here," he said. "Just guys who don't seem to dance and want to talk to me about software."

Although he sold-out Portland's Holocene on a night when the Blazer's played a crucial home game to the Suns, I suspect it's odd to go from playing to 20,000 people in London to only 400 in a town narcissistically know for music.

After the show several fans assaulted him with pleas for pictures, "for my buddy in Fort Collins" while others demanded that he "check out their music".

America is loud to foreigners. Louder than they expect even though entertainment paints of vision of shinny skyscrapers and crowded streets to those abroad, instead of the reality that we are scattered huddles quietly afraid that the axe can come down at any moment from a powerful, greedy hand. Only yelling to mask the insecurity of our fragile country.

We are aggressive to the point of overcompensation. And there hides the duality of America that makes us such a fascinating creature.

My poetry professor at Purdue, a delight full British women who fell in love in America and never returned home, once commented that "Americans always seem to believe their luck will turn at any moment, that fame and fortune is right around the corner . . . " She paused, cocked her head slightly to the ceiling, and smiled in a way that one might look at a mischievous sibling. "It's odd," she laughed quietly and shook her head.

The hubris. The closest example we have as a country must find us as a toddler. There is a point in every child's life when it believes the entire planet functions to cater to its every whim. The Sunsetless Empire now confined to a single isle. Have we learned nothing?

So many of my friends experience a greater culture shock returning from Asia than they do arriving.

The deafening audacity of our culture is too much even for those born of it.

Art imitates life imitates art. Our greatest heros exist outside of the system.

Tom Sawyer is adored, the scamp, but it's Huck that we want to be. The faux cowboy mindset of the lonesome crowded west. Billy the Kid. Jesse James. Batman. Clint Eastwood. Rocky. Vietnam. Iraq. Lawlessness. Freedom.

Whether it's the cop that goes outside the law to become judge, jury and executioner, or the venture capitalist that cuts throats for a once in a lifetime windfall, we cheer.

We applaud those we fear the most. Sights set on the horizon and let God sort 'em out. Mavericks.

Hunter S. Thompson once said that he believed the Law really was on our side. Yet, he knew that had he won Sheriff of Aspen, he'd have been assassinated. It's hard to see justice because of all the fat faces that profit off fear and greed. But when you get to the bare bones - the law is written to protect harmony.

So when we're shocked that the President of Sudan defiantly travels the world while the U.N. prepares to bring him to The Hauge, we should consider the irony that George W. Bush is polishing his accent somewhere in Texas.

We teeter on at the cusp of an undetermined new era. It is time for us to mature as a nation. The rebellious spirit that founded this country is fine, but useless when we live in fear of a corrupt individuals that strangle our vitality. This state of arrested development cannot exist to infinity; we either accept the savage nature of greed and power to become a rouge continent of dark experimentation, or we embrace the idea that working within a system is necessary if the system is grounded in universal humanity.

We are injured animals, both fearful and dangerous. We know the system is crooked, the police are on the take, and the politicians are lying. We're doomed but optimistic. That easy break, that chance, it's coming, you just know it. Any day now.

Ah, but the muse is fickle and there are taxes to pay.