Radiohead and Philosophy - Brandon W. Forbes [68]
Part of this privileged outer position is accomplished not through rejecting but embracing human impulses as fledgling sources of transcendence. So, while the Last Human of “Motion Picture Soundtrack” relies on sleeping pills and alcohol to escape to an illusory, dreamlike sexual encounter, the “mongrel cat” of “Myxomatosis” has “been where he liked, slept with who he likes.” The one has already given up on existence (“I will see you in the next life”) while the other has, as a result of his embrace of his basic drives, stepped off the edge, let go of the branch, and teetered over the edge of the breaker. He’s understandably shaken—“But now I don’t know why I feel so tongue-tied . . . so skinned alive.” Given the amount of twitching and salivating going on for the duration of the song, I must admit some pessimism about the mongrel cat’s potential for transcendence. What’s significant, however, is that because of his embracing and subsequent critical examination of his animal instincts, his thoughts are possibly not as “misguided” or “naive” as he claims.
Luckily for the mongrel cat and the rest of our strugglers against stagnation, Nietzsche provides a thought experiment that acts as a check on the desirability of their actions: the idea of “eternal recurrence.” He demands that we strive for a life filled with enough passion, vigor, panache, and vehemence that we would want to relive it perpetually, forever and ever.48 Thus, the ironic ark-imagery in “Sail to the Moon” forces listeners to think about what they’d do differently the hypothetical ‘next time around’: “Maybe you’ll be president, but [this time] know right from wrong.” Here, right and wrong are not determined objectively by God, but rather, by an individual who maintains a critical distance from nihilistic sickness, embraces her basic instincts, and says YES to life as if she must live it eternally.
Brush the Cobwebs from the Sky, Let the Genie Out from the Bottle
Nietzsche outlines a political program for the Over Humans to transcend life as a pig in a cage on antibiotics and transform into a genie let out from the bottle. His critics, however, suggest that he underestimates the potential of common people, arguing that the self-creation of a few fantastic, truly glorious Over Humans is not the most desirable response to nihilistic passivity. Instead, we should all work to slowly but continuously move humankind past its generationally-achieved degree of self-perfection. So, my generation should try and be “better” than our parents, and our kids should try and be “better” than us, and so on and so on until the threat of nihilistic stagnation is erased. In truth, perhaps we are not as badly off (just yet) as the empty, vapid, wandering vessels of OK Computer, Kid A, and Amnesiac. Not many of us truly want a life of no surprises, and many do seem discontented to simply sit back and let the government rule over us.
There does, however, seem to be a certain amount of “big fish eat the little ones, not my problem, give me some,” “take the money and run,” and “your opinion is of no consequence at all” in today’s post-industrial, capitalist, increasingly globalizing world. We are surrounded by the emptiest of feelings, and mustn’t look hard to see disappointed people clinging on to bottles. Nietzsche wants us to fundamentally challenge an existence that proclaims “I’m not living / I’m just killing time.” OK Computer, Kid A, and Amnesiac foreshadow the overwhelmingly lonely and isolated nihilistic existence that Nietzsche predicts awaits us if we do not challenge this way of thinking and living. Hail to the Thief moves in the direction of Nietzsche’s project for humanity: to stave of the nihilistic consequences of the death of God, say yes to life, and transcend humankind itself. For the protagonists of Hail to the Thief, as for us, taking