Anyone who’s read The Scarlet Letter should know that marriage is a crumbling, decaying enterprise (or so you’d think). Maybe this is why people get so quiet during discussion and mention of Hawthorne’s novel — it’s actually not the ornate sentence style they hate. I mean after all, they’ll put up with Moby Dick, a tale of good ol’ American animal violence. 
But here, with gay rights, we have not the evasion of violence, not the cessation of people dragging fa**ots behind pickup trucks in my darling home state of Indiana, but marriage, as the primary issue. Gay people want to get married , left and right. Something about that cake just seems so enticing, I guess. And if you’re interested in gay people, like people who are interior designers or something, you’re interested in marriage, I guess.
But listening to the music of Everclear, you can see how the belief in true love buoys the soul of a plangent artist. It’s something to get by on, the thought that union between two adoring hearts conquers all, and actually can transcend, can change the world. In John Lennon we see this too, both in his personal life and in songs like “Mind Games”: “Love is the answer / And you know that for sure / Love is a flower / You gotta let it you gotta let it grow.” 
This is the calibrator, with some people. And even though Art Alexakis wears that Trail Blazers jersey in that one picture, I can tell he’s not a TRUE sports fan, because if he were, he’d be happy doing some logging job in the Northwest 40 hours a week, and then watching sports and talking to people in a bar. Sports never did it for him, fully. There was a void in his life caused by the insufficiency of society in its efforts to edify him, or give him any clue as to how to live, and it drove him to insanity (if choosing to stick a needle in your arm and shoot smack isn’t the very definition of insanity, I don’t know what would be, and this is the first thing I’d say to my friend, if I could, who recently died of doing this very activity).
It’s behavior low enough to match the individual’s view of society, apropos of that Scott Weiland rant in the liner notes of Core (which is about the best part about the album Core, for that matter), about how much Americans indulge in products, and technology, and ignore holistic humanitarian matters the world over, roughly. And so juxtaposed with Everclear’s “I Will Buy You a New Life”  can be Stone Temple Pilots’ “Hello, It’s Late” (sorry), a sort of fragile ballad about marrying this girl Scott Weiland seems not so much to be obsessed over, but just fixated on, his mind focusing thusly in order to just reel itself back to a realm in any way resembling the human, and to an ability back to interact with his own race with any sort of coherence. Because let’s face it, Weiland’s got some credentials. He’s the good looking frontman of a popular band. He just wanted to tell us all how stupid we are. Crackermen, silver gun supermen.
 I actually heard recently from my mom that Moby Dick wasn’t going to be written (maybe Melville realized temporarily that he can’t write his way out of a wet paper bag with scissors in his hand), but he ran into his “friend” Nathaniel Hawthorne, who inspired him back into action.
 A famous line on Seinfeld is something like, “You know marriage is the punishment for committing felonies in many states, right,” uttered by the great, socially chameleonic Mr. Cosmo Kramer.
 All this is making me think of that one Onion article: “Local woman masturbates to the thought of commitment,” or something like that.
 And also “Father of Mine,” which shows that there was a problem with the father, in no way an irrelevant point in this discussion.