Here to Create, Not Merely to Survive

That was the message I was once given from a fortune cookie back during my college days. Usually those fortune cookie messages are either so vague that they're universally applicable, or so cryptic that they're meaningless. However, this one fortune cookie seemed to succinctly express the philosophy by which I'd been trying to lead my life: "We are here to create, not merely to survive."

What does that mean? Well, to me it means two things. On an existential level, our lives are brief and their ending ultimate. From a carpe diem perspective, given our brief lifespan and the inevitability of death it would be a waste of what little time we have if we rushed through our lives with a tunnel-vision mentality without ever having contributed something to the world. What is the point in life if we can't do something great with it, or at least try?

What is the meaning of life? I don't know. But I do know that we are here to create, not merely to survive. A fortune cookie became the name for this hub and the foundation for its philosophy.

The Grammys ceremony, as a vehicle for music recognition, is a farce, in the same way as considering MTV to truly be music television is a farce. We've all known this for some time. The Grammys, as far as the awards are concerned, is a popularity contest, not the ultimate measure of musical talent that the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences might try to lead us to believe it to be. Even then, The Academy does have its finger on the pulse of popular culture, and we can therefore treat the ceremony as The State of the Union address for popular music. So here's what we learned.

1. Rock and Roll is irrelevant and Dave Grohl is its last gasp.

There were three award categories for rock this year, and Foo Fighters won them all (but lost in other categories). That in itself says more about the rapidly deteriorating relevance of rock than the band's frontman, Dave Grohl, ever could. "It's not about what goes on in a computer," Grohl said onstage while accepting an award. Grohl perhaps would like to be seen as the last great crusader for a lost musical truth, fighting bravely while dance and electronic music continue to squeeze guitars and drums out of the pop music marketplace, but really he just comes off as desperate. The fact that Grohl and the Foos would perform an awkward duet with Canadian DJ Deadmau5 served only to ironically underscore that point. And the masturbatory guitar orgy with Grohl, Paul McCartney, Joe Walsh, and Bruce Springsteen that closed the show seemed to say not only good night to those in attendance, but also a good bye to fans of rock.

2. Nicki Minaj still has not established herself as a solo performer.

Nicki Minaj's loss to Bon Iver in the Best New Artist category came as a shock to some, but how many people can actually name a single Nicki Minaj song? The quirky rapper works well as a guest on more established artist's songs, but when she took the stage and put on a flabbergasting Exorcist-inspired theatrical production, the audience was left scratching its head. Jerky, disoriented, incomprehensible, not a danceable beat or a hummable hook. She may have the ability to act, to perform, and to be though-provoking, but it's the Grammys: who cares? Perform a song people like hearing and gracefully walk off the stage, that's all we ask. What Minaj gave us was what exactly?

3. Born This Way is not the game-changing, world-altering phenomenon Lady Gaga thought it would be.

Watching Lady Gaga squirm in her seat, uncomfortable in whatever it was she had dressed herself, and even more uncomfortable with losing awards to far less flashy and far more respected artists like Adele (three times!) felt odd, considering her role as Grammys queen in recent years. No performances, no awards, just shots of a steaming, jealous woman whose plans for world domination are facing reality: we like your tunes, Gaga, we're just exhausted with how hard you try to make an impression. Even then, when the single "Born This Way" was released it seemed huge, earth-shatteringly huge. The fact that Lady Gaga didn't come away with a single award had to have raised a few eyebrows. Do we always sympathize for her? (Thinking). Nahhh.

4. Adele is a sweetheart.

If you've heard any of her songs, if you've watched her to perform (and by now, who hasn't?) it should have been immediately obvious that Adele is the real deal. But watching her numerous award acceptances, culminating with her genuinely humble and emotional final acceptance for Record of the Year, you could almost sense everyone watching falling in love with her charm, wit, and grace. Everyone except Lady Gaga, that is.

5. The Grammys are irrelevant.

We don't care about who wins, not really. We watch for the show, for the performances, for the glitz, glamor, and drama. And the Grammys, every year, provide more and more of it. Not that we're complaining, but still. What's the difference between watching the Grammys and watching MTV for an hour?