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Writing in Postmodernism, Or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, Fredric Jameson offers the following reading of Marx on capitalism:

We are somehow to lift our minds to a point at which it is possible to understand that capitalism is at one and the same time the best thing that has ever happened to the human race, and the worst. The lapse from this austere dialectical imperative into the more comfortable stance of the taking of moral positions is inveterate and all too human: still, the urgency of the subject demands that we make at least some effort to think the cultural evolution of late capitalism dialectically, as catastrophe and progress, all together.

In other words, the dialectic demands that we see things as both the best and worst thing to ever happen and to do this at the same time. In any case, I had an experience of State College, PA last night that suggested just such a dialectical engagement. As with last week, we went to listen to Jazz at down town “night spot,” Bar Bleu (and to enjoy half price drinks). Anyway, last week, the socializing was better than the band (there were threats of an analysis of why electric rhythm sections are so evil made on this blog), however, the band was noticeably better this week (and the social environment was just bizarre).

Admittedly, the last two weeks of Fall semester in State College are usually a little surreal. Most of my friends are on edge due to seminar paper writing, it also starts to snow around this time, and the undergraduates are equally stressed out from finals. This year, though, there is also a whooping cough epidemic going around, that seems to have people on edge (yes, whooping cough happens in places other than 1890s mining camps (it surprised me, at first, too)). Anyway, point is, last night the natives were restless. Nonetheless, going out is usually a good idea (and my brain was fried at that point, anyway). While there, a friend of mine got hit on by not one, not two, but three drunk frat boys. The first guy bought her a picture of Stoli&Sprite and attempted to chat her up, all while her boyfriend glared at him. Then the second guy was so drunk he could barely stand and was yelling about marijuana users getting electro-shock and shitting themselves (or something). Then his friend came over and got him away, only to come back and hit on this poor girl (leading to charges, by me, that they were pussy-hustling (which lead to counter-charges of me being a misogynist)). Anyway, “you stay classy, State College!”

Then the band started playing. Sitting in this evening were a couple of guys from Senegal who were clearly raised on old Orchestra Baobab records (what a bunch of Senegalese jazz dudes are doing in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania is beyond me). Let me just say that despite the lame electric piano and boring rhythm section, the band totally rocked the house. The African singer was really good, the guitarist was laying down the sort of shimmering lines one expects from West African jazz, and the locals had a new trumpet player who was a little stumbley but still quite capable of blowing some mean licks (does that make me sound like I know something about jazz?). For a few moments, I forgot I was in a lame jazz bar, surrounded by drunken idiots (see above), on a day when there was both snow on the ground and it was 20 degrees out.

Nonetheless, my evening would seem to suggest the sort of dialectical engagement Jameson says is necessary to comprehend capitalism. This evening featured both the absolute best and worst State College (and humanity) has to offer. In a way, it was both “catastrophe and progress, all together.”