(12-06-2013, 09:07 AM)71degrees Wrote:  A little context would go a long way here.  Love the philosophy.  Agree w/it all.  Curious about the "new" in the title. Are there old contrarians?  I mean no disrespect by asking this. Hasn't the slant of contrarianism always been to scream the opposite of repression?  
I don't mind "imagining" where this might be, e.g. Cairo or Korea or on the curbs of Wall Street NYC…it's just a bit too "anyplace" for me. Would love to take it more seriously. Methinks "context" may help.  
Cheers.
Hey there,
As far as the "New" in the title yes there are/were old contrarians. Mandela is an example of an old one, but with each generation there will always be 
new contrarians. But, the best way to explain what i was trying to convey in this poem is that if you sit idol and never speak up for what you believe in as a human being, you may live to regret it. So, I guess it's kind of a warning for young people who are afraid/to timid to question what's going on around them. 
Hope this clarifies things a bit,
Chazz
P.S.
I've kept a copy of the man in the arena excerpt, and Invictus, in my wallet for a few years now. I pull them out and read them from time to time maybe these have a role in this poem as well who knows. Figured i would toss them in here for you to check out. 
THE MAN IN THE ARENA
                                          Excerpt from the speech "Citizenship In A Republic" Theodore Roosevelt
                                          delivered at the Sorbonne, in Paris, France on 23 April, 1910
                                    
    It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. 
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
William Ernest Henley