Aw, man. Youth is wasted on the young. That adage never wrang truer in my soul than last night, when I realized that it would never be socially acceptable for me to openly conduct a science experiment studying the effects of David Bowie songs played from a Bose iPod dock on plant growth. Do David Bowie songs make plants grow faster and taller? In my search for meaning and truth in this world, this question seems essential. But I’m worried I may never know the answer with certainty because the only people who can conduct this kind of experiment without having to worry about being shunned by society are 5th graders.
While I am convinced that the 5th grade mind is perhaps the most noble in all of humanity (highest functioning before the clouding effects of puberty, but that’s for another post), we cannot entrust 10 year olds with the solemn responsibility of figuring out if David Bowie’s shimmering, pouting, pansexual anthems are empirically and essentially invigorating to all living things do not reproduce asexually. (Single-celled organisms such as bacteria and protists, as well as some plants and fungi, do not depend on fertilization – and therefore the masculine-feminine relationship – for reproduction. So we can forget about them.) Is this not a question worth answering the right way, with government grants and teams of our nation’s best and brightest? I posit that the way to closing the math and sciences gap between us and the India-China-Japan juggernaut starts with a radical rethinking of what constitutes scientific achievement. Is it the new old Cold War or not, folks? Let’s start gearing up.
Are you familiar with the concept of the yin and the yang? How about the vag and the wang? Bowie can fairly be considered a force of nature due to his transcendent ability to combine and express both the masculine and the feminine in his music. By creating a whole out of these antitheses, he creates a unity of opposites that is universal and omnipotent. He is, in effect, continually fertilizing himself with his own music. In doing so, he may create a hitherto fore undiscovered natural force essential to life, not unlike sunlight or gravity.
OK, hold up. This is an awesome thought. But I admit that it’s all pretty selfish, too. The only reason I want this experiment to happen is because I want to know that what I believe is true. When I listen to Bowie, I have the sense that his music is can be felt by all living things, even those who don’t understand the principles of classic pop song structure. That sense – that belief – is something that gives my life meaning, just like my belief that getting a handjob to the Counting Crows in the afternoon as a 14 year old constitutes male utopia. So I need to make this experiment happen. And now I know that I want to have a child.
I was on the fence about kids before. I wasn’t sure I’d ever want them, I’d discussed with friends the inevitability of how kids suck up all your time, crush your life, drain you of your resources and hope, then grow up to hate you. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of that, but last night when I was listening to Bowie it became clear to me that it’s all worth it so that when your kid is in the 5th grade you can make it do a science experiment about how plants grow faster and taller if they can hear Bowie songs played from a Bose iPod dock. A kid can make it happen, and I need that.
Bowie makes me want to fertilize some shit, man. Listen and grow.