Who Has the Shells?

Rage Against the Machine and Fun with Words


I was tearing it up the other day on a scooter, one of these last-mile, app startups where you can borrow one for 10 minutes and ditch it. I was feeling wild on my way back from Sidamo Coffee and decided to pick one up on this certain Sunday morning. And I was just ripping up out there.

I mean, I was shredding out there, whipping around and zig-zagging in the bike lane, in the middle of the road, on the sidewalk. It was sabotage. I was swagging out all gnarly, dude.

If you were a stop sign, I felt bad for you.

Picking up some speed (I had these wheels pinned at 10 the whole time), I was raging out on that scooter, and I started singing “Bulls on Parade” by Rage Against the Machine.

Singing that song again from my high-school days, I realized something profound: I have no idea what this song is about.

Literally no clue.

Read this chorus with me:

Rally ‘round the family with a pocket full of shells

They rally ‘round the family with a pocket full of shells

They rally ‘round the family with a pocket full of shells

They rally ‘round the family with a pocket full of shells

What is happening?

As I was imagining doing sick kickflips on this Bird Scooter, I remembered the confusion I’ve had around this song.

For example, who exactly has the shells? I’m assuming shells are ammunition, but who has them? Do the ones who are rallying around the family have the shells or does the family being rallied around have the shells?

One of the things I’ve loved in learning languages is discovering what type of information is (or isn’t) prioritized in any given language. For example, in English, my question is perfectly valid. Yet, in other languages, a Slavic language for example, the shells would be denoted in a way that would signify by whom the shells are owned (by whom the shells are owned, k?).

Knowing that there is a version of human language that commands this information innately has exposed how much wonderful confusion is simultaneously available to us all the time, at least those who are native or dominant English speakers. Rock on.

More soon,

Trevor

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