Chicken-head Johnston
The new issue of The Surfer’s Journal just arrived (I know, I know, you’re pissed you haven’t gotten yours yet) and, if it were online, I would link to the amazing article about Jalian Johnston, a former pro surfer from Southern California who now lives in a handmade house in Hawaii. It isn’t Johnston’s small-footprint living I was so impressed by. It’s fairly easy to pull off eco-conscious self-sufficiency when you live on six of the rainiest acres on Earth. It’s that, when the commercial forces of pro surfing started to bear too heavily upon him, still a teenager, he warily withdrew, spending more and more time at the foot of a cliff, living in a bush. Okay, so it’s not just that he lived in a bush. It’s also that he sometimes surfs while wearing something that looks like a giant chicken head, which, being a freelance clothing designer, he makes himself.
It’s a little hard to get past the fact that this is a rich kid from Palos Verdes whose big epiphany came when he started listening to Phish, but one look at the opening photo of him, with his sweaty, dirty, scratched-up, sunburnt face, the gnarled caveman pendant around his neck, and another decorative bird-head attached to his human head, and you have to conclude that he’s the real deal, an eccentric, a genuine nutcase, as well as something much respected in the surfing world, his own brand of badass.
Anyway, the article made me wonder about why I found this dude such a hoot, and, by extension, how his example, or my fondness for it, fits with right-of-center thought. From one perspective, Johnston probably looks like just another hippie dropout. It’s hard to overestimate the role the old hippie-loathing, and the anti-ideal of youth rebellion in general, still play in the social thought of the modern intellectual Right. (In a recent review of The Wackness, for example, John Podhoretz described The Catcher in the Rye as a “pernicious book,” pernicious because it enshrined the pose of disaffection as the model for thoughtful youth.) But this strain – which I would call modernist law-and-order conservatism – exists in real tension with the various individualisms of the Right – mainly the rights-based individualism that conservatives tend to share with (nonutilitarian) libertarians, as well as the rugged individualism of the American ideology. I don’t want to call it conformist, because there are many oddballs within its ranks, but this anti-hippie conservatism is, at the very least, unromantic about nonconformity. On the other hand, though, there are strains of conservatism that are more explicitly on the side of the weirdos and outliers. For me, the most attractive aspect of Andrew Sullivan’s writing is his defense of eccentricity and experimentation. He doesn’t just criticize the war on drugs, he dares to make some obvious points in defense of, well, drugs. He amplifies Oakeshott’s case that limited government – limited politics – is the best way to allow people to forge their private lives, however incomprehensible to the public world. (It must be said, Oakeshott’s private life was a marvel of eccentricity.)
And then there are people like Allan Bloom, dandy, connoisseur, chain-smoker – whose elitism had a little of Nietzsche’s aristocratic radicalism about it, which is very much concerned with the antagonism between certain unruly but commendable human types and the larger society, whose ruliness conservatism tends to have a major stake in. The question is, where do you direct your vestigial aristocratic sympathies now that we neither have nor want actual aristocrats. There are Bloom’s cultural giants, of course, but they exist as books, mainly, not people. If it’s action you want, there are athletes – and I have worshiped an athlete or two – but their world is so thoroughly regulated and monetized. There’s great talent but very little individuality. The most outrĂ© tropes are quickly internalized by entire leagues – regression to the extreme. Like mainstream musicians, athletes live in a world of sanctioned daring, the universal tattoo.
And so I end up chuckling to some lunatic surfer in a feathered headdress, because nobody else that I know of is scoring massive barrels in a chicken head. I’m not sure what that counts for, but it’s not nothing. Or maybe it is nothing, and that’s its charm.
I suppose my favorite candidate for combining eccentricity and athleticism is a former neighbor and longtime friend of my parents, who’s a retired doctor and was our county public health officer for years. He’s been adding health and safety features to his running gear throughout the years since I was in high school in the early 80’s, when we used to get a huge kick out of watching him go past our house. Last time I saw him he was wearing a fisherman’s hat, orange reflective vest, long-sleeved shirt, gloves, a face mask and knee socks as part of his outfit.
— Joules · Aug 13, 04:23 AM · #
This is a great question. I’ve never really considered just how many freaks and weirdos I’d hope to have in my ideal polis, and how congruous that equilibrium level is with my reactionary ways.
— Matt Frost · Aug 13, 05:13 AM · #
I sympathize with your mixed feelings. Having always been an outsider myself I always sympathize with characters such as this and try to cultivate them as friends whenever I can. That said I also have an instinctual(and, I believe, healthy) contempt for hippyism and bien-pensant counter-culturalism generally. It’s often hard to discern between sandal-wearing hippies and those who are, as you so rightly put it, their own brand of badass. And of course, cultivating an old world aristocratic eccentricity is the most counter-cultural thing you can do these days.
I think the key word here is “own” brand of badass: whether a person’s eccentricity truly comes from within and not from some affection or desire to conform with some pattern, no matter how un-mainstream.
— PEG · Aug 13, 06:54 AM · #
Fascinating question. What ersatz aristocrats deserve admiration to fill the atavistic right-of-center need to admire such individuals? It seems a lot of Americans went with the whole British royal fascination. They are, after all, the country from which we issued forth, and despite our rejection of that very aristocracy, there may be at least a cultural comfort with that backward-looking aristocratic class. Why, they even speak English! Lord knows the royals are certainly eccentric enough when they feel like it.
As for me, a Bay Area libertario-conservative, I think I’m more drawn to the likes of Emperor Norton, “Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico”. He not only focused his thoughts above the riff-raff, but decided to become the damn aristocracy himself! How awesome is it to not only issue your own money, but convince those in your milieu to honor it gladly?
Present-day? (shrug) I guess the closest for me would be the entrepreneurs of Silicon Valley. You’ve got to have your eccentricity-o-meter dialed fairly high to have the balls (or ovaries) to actually start a company or even an industry with the reasonable expectation of not only becoming filthy rich from it, but possibly effecting a globe-rippling change upon humanity.
Yeah, the entrepreneurs don’t always have all the cool ACTION of the athletes (yes, four out of five chicks still dig the long ball), but the way they take their casual Fridays so seriously out here, you never know, a CEO may just show up wearing a chicken-head next week.
— John Bejarano · Aug 13, 09:02 PM · #