Monday
Michael and Marilyn came by yesterday with some giftage for Smeagol -- a box of My Particular Favorites, which are aptly named and would have been enough -- and a very special edition of the new Over the Rhine record, which is beyond wonderful. Little G went to bed last night listening to it (start 'em young) and listened quietly until it was over. (Then he started up again with the squawking.) Somehow, late last night, with that CD on and that damned Burger King commercial still haunting me I was struck again by the vast difference between music as art (e.g., Over the Rhine, Dividing the Plunder, et. al. -- it's out there,) and music used to sell something, (e.g., the tender crisp bacon cheddar ranch song, that stupid, "This One's for the Girls," song and the whole CCM scene). The latter strikes me as profane. Surely God didn't give us music to sell crap.
Big win for the Cards last night -- absolutely beating the living pig shit out of a very good team (in case you hadn't heard). Before the brackets came out I'd been thinking about picking Georgia Tech for the Final Four. I've liked them for a long time -- since they had Bruce Dalrymple, Mark Price and John Salley back in the day, and this year's team looked good. I like this better.
Back to work in a couple days. I've enjoyed being around the house all day with Ruthie and the Lizard, but it's time to get back in the groove and find out what normal looks like now. It'll be good.
Easter is this Sunday, which is particularly interesting because, A) I didn't know that until my mom called on Saturday and, B) For the first time in my life, I won't be doing the Church thing for Easter, but will be here at the house with my People (unless I have to work, which looks likely). This may indicate that I've finally escaped from the religion that so easily entangled me, but I'm not introspective enough to say for sure.
More later,
slide
Big win for the Cards last night -- absolutely beating the living pig shit out of a very good team (in case you hadn't heard). Before the brackets came out I'd been thinking about picking Georgia Tech for the Final Four. I've liked them for a long time -- since they had Bruce Dalrymple, Mark Price and John Salley back in the day, and this year's team looked good. I like this better.
Back to work in a couple days. I've enjoyed being around the house all day with Ruthie and the Lizard, but it's time to get back in the groove and find out what normal looks like now. It'll be good.
Easter is this Sunday, which is particularly interesting because, A) I didn't know that until my mom called on Saturday and, B) For the first time in my life, I won't be doing the Church thing for Easter, but will be here at the house with my People (unless I have to work, which looks likely). This may indicate that I've finally escaped from the religion that so easily entangled me, but I'm not introspective enough to say for sure.
More later,
slide
5 Comments:
isn't it odd that 2,000 years of history has allowed this day, the single most important defining moment of a disciple of Jesus' faith, to become something that we want to be free of?
It's not the historical event that I want to be free of, it's the religion that's attatched itself to the event like some kind of parasite. And yeah, I'd say it's beyond odd; I'd say it's tragic.
true dat
I spent way too long trying to figure out how to word this to post on your blog, then decided it wasn't worth posting, but I spent so much time on it I thought I'd at least subject you to it. So here it is:
I think that a lot of music on commercial radio, while not overtly connected to a product, is basically a self-referential jingle for itself, or at least for the image that goes with it and the sense of identity it engenders. This seems to be more important to the typical musical consumer than any identifiable aesthetic (or how else do would you explain what gets played?). In a disturbingly Baudrilliardian fashion (and not unlike certain of our world leaders), it has become a parody or caricature of itself.
That's totally what I was trying to get at. I never could pin down what was driving me so nuts until I heard that dratted, "This One's for the Girls." Have you heard it? Dreadful, and good for nothing except selling pop songs and whatever goes with them. It exists to exist. This happened
within a day of my receiving the new OTR record, which is the exact
opposite. It expresses something Real. It's art. It has actual value, (and therefore won't sell very well).
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