Jill Smith "Apathy"

I enjoyed this chapter because it brings to the forefront the idea that young Americans have their own way of dealing with and practicing politics. I liked the fact that McKee quotes Hartley as saying that "...an April 1994 poll among young people gave between 78 per cent and 93 per cent responses for various negative statements about politicians and showed that a quarter of 18 year olds failed to register to vote...[and that] young people placed greater trust in musicians” (McKee 181). This chapter relates to the spectacle chapter and only reinforces the usefulness of spectacle in the political arena. McKee points out that young people do not engage in politics the same way early Americans did. They tend to find their own medium. He uses the "hippie" movement as an example. The hippies did not take up with political parties, instead they found their voices through protest and music. For example in protesting the draft for the Vietnam war and the war itself, Creedence Clearwater Revival wrote the song "Fortunate Son," a song about how the children of the rich could and did buy their way out of the draft. That was the sixties answer to political activism, they chose to do it through creative arts like music, theater and art. It was the first time in American history that children went against their parents politics by the thousands. They wanted the world to hear that they would not conform. Sometimes I feel like i got left out of this amazing time in history, the music alone breaks my heart that I wasn't there to experience it.

Lyrics to "Fortunate Son"
Creedence Lyrics: Fortunate Son
Some folks are born made to wave the flag,Ooh, they're red, white and blue.And when the band plays "Hail to the chief",Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord,It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son.It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no,Yeah!Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,Lord, don't they help themselves, oh.But when the taxman comes to the door,Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no.It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no.Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord,And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! yoh,It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son.It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one.It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no,It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no,