Just Off Center

I was fifteen years old when I first heard Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. I was simply passing through the living room in my parents' house when I heard that distinct intro coming from the family television. Right as I stopped walking and I turned my eyes toward the screen, the distortion and heavy drum beats were kicking in. It wasn't metal, but it certainly wasn't the glam rock that had been monopolizing my MTV for too long. I stood alone in the center of the room, staring in awe at the mediocre, yet dark and unapologetic video.

The unintelligible rant was nothing like I had heard. But I knew right away that it was formulaic of a new kind of music. With each passing bar I felt a swell of angst and anger rising from the pit of my guts, something that would otherwise go repressed. My face began to twist and twitch in realization of this feeling welling inside me, not growing so much as emerging. I looked like Michael from The Lost Boys did as he first watched his friends tear apart a band of drunks, slowly being overcome with the knowledge that he was the same monster as the creatures he observed.

Two weeks later, Nirvana's Nevermind broke publicly. Their first single became the anthem of Grunge rock, which brought solemnity and passion back into a genre that been consumed by ostentation and narcissism. While the rave reviews came in from critic and peer alike I remained silently pleased with my ability to so immediately recognize the impact this kind of music would have, that now seems to have been so imminent.

Over the years I have spoken with people about this, and have found that most people have their own story of recognition. People have known at first sight the likely influences that a movie or tv show would have. Others have beheld the work of certain artists and just "known" that they would alter the face of their craft. Perhaps the most impressive to me are those who have the precognition to point out a great mind before it changes the world.

The most influential ideas and intellectual inventions rarely spring from the mind of a genius without nurture and support. Sir Isaac Newton was brought up in the best schools and given government grants and access to the works and assistance of other geniuses. Abraham Lincoln was taught to speak Latin so that he would be able to understand that, while viewpoints will always differ, the language was from the same roots as his. It seems that those who recognize great gifts of intellectual capacity have the opportunity to nurture its development.

And while I sit here at work so pleasantly wasting company time on this blog I wonder if the minds of my very coworkers are the buds of genius, requiring only the proper cultivating to bloom. Recent conversations with Carl, a coworker in my office have caught my attention. Perhaps I have mistaken his odd logic for ignorance. Perhaps I should consider some of his stances on the issues surrounding our society and determine his potential for effecting a great and wonderful change in our world. I'll make an effort to paraphrase his ideas here from a collection of conversations over the past two years.