"All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned,
and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses, his real
conditions of life, and his relations with his kind." Karl Marx
might have been thinking of punk rock when he wrote these words in
1847, but he overlooked the possibility that new forms of solidity
and holiness could spring into existence overnight. Punk rock was a
celebration of nastiness, chaos, and defiance of convention, which
quickly transcended itself and developed its own orthodoxies,
shibboleths, heresies, and sectarian wars. Is punk still alive
today? What has it left us with? Does punk make any artistic sense?
Is punk inherently anarchist, sexist, neo-Nazi, Christian,
or-perish the thought-Marxist? When all's said and done, does punk
simply suck? These obvious questions only scratch the surface of
punk's philosophical ramifications, explored in depth in this
unprecedented and thoroughly nauseating volume. Thirty-two
professional thinkers-for-a-living and students of rock turn their
x-ray eyes on this exciting and frequently disgusting topic, and
penetrate to punk's essence, or perhaps they end up demonstrating
that it has no essence. You decide. Among the nail-biting questions
addressed in this book: Can punks both reject conformity to ideals
and complain that poseurs fail to confirm to the ideals of punk?
How and why can social protest take the form of arousing revulsion
by displaying bodily functions and bodily abuse? Can punk ethics be
reconciled with those philosophical traditions which claim that we
should strive to become the best version of ourselves? How close is
the message of Jesus of Nazareth to the message of punk? Is punk
essentially the cry of cis, white, misogynist youth culture, or is
there a more wholesome appeal to irrepressibly healthy tendencies
like necrophilia, coprophilia, and sadomasochism? In its rejection
of the traditional aesthetic of order and complexity, did punk
point the way to "aesthetic anarchy," based on simplicity and
chaos? By becoming commercially successful, did punk fail by its
very success? Is punk what Freddie Nietzsche was getting at in The
Birth of Tragedy, when he called for Dionysian art, which venerates
the raw, instinctual, and libidinous aspects of life?
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