In Hicks' day, most of this negative psychic energy was delivered into the human mind via television. Other than Cops, one of his favorite shows to pick on was American Gladiators. When his diatribes got too heavy, he'd almost start chanting,

That American Gladiators was resuscitated last spring is a commentary on the ongoing occurrence of TV mind control.

And the ones behind the scenes didn't escape Hicks' verbal stabbing either. One of his more common suggestions was that anyone in marketing or advertising should commit suicide. He'd say, "There's no rationalization for what you do, and you are Satan's little helpers." He would insist that there was no punch line, and just repeat the suggestion over and over until it sunk in. But that brings me to my first major comparison between Hicks' time and the present. Thanks to my short foray into digital marketing, I know that the marketing industry today is shifting from "interruption" to "permission" tactics. In other words, TV and radio commercials are on the way out, and specifically targeted web banner ads are on the way in. This is but a small sign of the way that our society and economy are about to do a back flip. The investment banking collapse in October 2008 was a much more abrupt sign. These aren't signs that advertising and marketing are less despicable, but just that we all have to reach beyond our comfort zone to get by today. We don't exist within pre-cut job descriptions. In order to meet one goal that we care about, we sometimes have to make compromises. (This line of thought reminds me of Steppenwolf. Protagonist Harry Haller comes to realize that his self-recognition of half man/half wolf isn't appropriate at all. In reality everyone is comprised of hundreds of selves. We are all complex and multifaceted, which is the opposite of what society likes to make people believe. Society achieves efficiency by limiting people to a single role. But this is all changing. Just because one might have to do some marketing, say, to promote Supraterranean.com, that doesn't make one a marketer or any sort of trickster or conniver. It just makes one a multitasker.)

As I start to explore the changes that have occurred since 1994, I can't help but feel sad that Hicks wasn't alive from 2000 to 2008. I know that he would have been a key cultural figure during George W. Bush's complete failure of a presidency. What is even sadder is that much of what Hicks' tore to shreds during his routine only got more prevalent in years to come. He spent a good amount of time bashing the powerful few like George H.W. Bush. Now the younger Bush -- a Christian Fundamentalist oil baron with a penchant for random, unwarranted military action -- has been running our country for the past eight years. How could this have happened?! Did we not get the memo??!! Hicks used to follow his more biting segments by stating that he was "just planting seeds." He was sure that few would take him seriously, but regardless, he knew that his efforts were not in vain. And I know it too, as I'm sure many others do now more than ever. Even total cynics can sense a source of hope in Obama. (But I fear that his first term will be more a test of the weakened credibility of the American Presidency than a test of Obama's ability. In other words, if he tries to improve America and the world too much, will the Higher Capitalist Powers intervene?)

In retrospect, Arizona Bay was probably Hicks' most serene work, perhaps because it was the first released after his death. On a literal level, the 1997 album was a statement about the most soulless city America has yet produced. But on a grander scope, the release reflected the utter indifference a part of him felt towards the self-destructive nature of human beings. He had bitten the bait and tugged on the line for as long as he could, but finally had to accept -- as any force of good must -- that not only will evil always exist in the world, but it will always seem to have the upper hand. And given that acknowledgement, one is entitled to a life of pessimism -- that is, if you can handle it. Hicks carried so much weight at all times -- probably more than if he were just a writer, since he had to exude all that hate and anger with his vocals chords and body language.

Hicks was also exposed to immediate judgment and criticism. One of the most revealing segments that I've heard was on a bootleg called I'm Sorry Folks, which was recorded live in Chicago on an unknown date. Only three minutes into the show, he engages in a screaming fight with a woman who yells, "You suck." The slightly abridged version of his response goes something like this:

Then he apologizes to the rest of the crowd and continues with the show.

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