Regina Spektor . . . and speculations

Regina Spektor

ca. 2004

(Image Borrowed from the Universe)

Since I'm currently swamped in the currentless swamp of student grading, I just can't remain constantly serious, so I investigate music that I've not previously listened to . . . such as Regina Spektor's song "Us," from the unbearable lightness of Soviet Kitsch:

"Us"

They made a statue of us
And put it on a mountain top
Now tourists come and stare at us
Blow bubbles with their gum
Take photographs have fun, have fun

They'll name a city after us
And later say it's all our fault
Then they'll give us a talking to
Then they'll give us a talking to
Because they've got years of experience
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

We wear our scarves just like a noose
But not 'cause we want eternal sleep
And though our parts are slightly used
New ones are slave labor you can keep

We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

They made a statue of us
They made a statue of us
The tourists come and stare at us
The sculptor's marble sends regards
They made a statue of us
They made a statue of us
Our noses have begun to rust
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
Were living in a den of thieves

And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

I listened several times to the song on video, watching Ms. Regina Spektor's idiosyncratic antics, and then told a friend:

I saw this video yesterday . . . and thought of . . . the "den of thieves" line that encapsulates our current times. Oddly, though Spektor's been around since 2001, I'd never listened to her music, but maybe because I've not been around the US for over 20 years now.

I look at young Regina in the video and wonder if I had made better decisions would my [academic] life be better? I had a great junior year at Baylor, but after that year, I made a series of bad decisions that . . . affected my career. Those decisions reflected my character, which in turn reflected the culture of the place where I grew up. I was independent and opinionated and disdainful of consequences. That worked well enough in the Ozarks, where people didn't have careers anyway. The years have brought some perspective, and I look back on arguments that I've had [with other scholars] that did little to further my career . . . .

I suppose that some people could criticize others even more harshly than I have and yet prosper, but those people are smarter than I . . . . Now, I expect little from my career. I'm not depressed about that. I just have to pursue my scholarly interests and . . . my job. Things are not so bad, actually . . . for a den of thieves.

And one never knows what the future might have in store.

That's both a hope and a fear, of course. I'm in the odd position of seeing my scholarly life work out fairly well even as my academic career stalls, for I've managed to publish on John's Gospel, Gnosticism, Beowulf, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Piers Plowman, Don Quixote, Paradise Lost, Pride and Prejudice, Natural Symbols (Mary Douglas), The Clash of Civilizations (Samuel Huntington), Al-Qaeda's 9/11 attacks, the future of Christianity, Korean identity, and a smattering of other things.

But who reads -- or even cares about -- scholarly articles, anyway?