I've had this image in my head for the last few years, but I can't decide if I'm good enough to draw it. A teenager, female, laying in a hospital bed. Bandage around her head, rain on the window, and her I.V. port is going up to an iPod pumping music directly into her veins.
Despite my utter lack of knowledge regarding how to play or read it, I am a very music oriented person. I hear conversations in the context of how they would sound as lyrics. Counting the tempo of my blinkers, clicking away on my dashboard. Hearing a symphony from a few small notes my friend hums. If I love you, I have a song that reminds me of you, and I listen to them all when I'm lonely.
I've thought about the songs I want played at my funeral so many times that I may as well just make a damn playlist about it. I know I want a girl that I barely know to play her cover of "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, because her voice is so haunting and beautiful that I can almost see myself rising out of my own ashes just to hear it again.
God, I'm so deep.
Sometimes, I'll go on these kicks where I search Google for a friend's band, just to hear them play this one song. Hear the lead singer's voice crack on the high note they haven't learned to hit yet. Practiced fingers sliding along a string. Drum beats that are almost always on tempo, except for this one section right at the start when they come in just a little too late.
I love music because it keeps me warm, even if the song is broken and curt. When I wrap myself up in the comforting vibrations, I feel safe. When it ends, I shiver. I am learning how to not judge someone based on their taste in music, no matter how ridiculous it may be. Who the Hell am I to decide what good music is? Listen as you will, my friends. Listen as you will.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Music is my God. I will sacrifice myself to it freely and gladly, bleed on its' altar and smile as I fade. Take my soul, ye Gods of Rock 'n Roll. For it is not mine to keep.
That's about it, I guess. I have a lot to say right now, so I'm probably going to blog more later about other things. But as for music, I've said my rant.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Of Glee, God, and lack there of's (I don't actually know how one would phrase that last bit)
I'm starting out this blog by saying that I have never watched an episode of Glee, I have no idea who these characters are, and chances are pretty damn good that I'm going to miss something important regarding my point in this blog due to my lack of Glee-based understanding. But I'm not really here to talk about Glee, rather the idea of prayer and God during a time of grief and what that does to someone in mourning. I have read every wall-post, argument, praise, and complaint about this subject relating to some recent episode of this show, and yeah, I would like to give my two sense.
And yes, I will be reading all of those blog posts to write this thing as I can't even remember the names of these kids.
From what I can gather, there was this kid named Kurt who is an atheist or just doesn't really believe in God. And then his dad goes into a coma and his friends start praying for him, he is uncomfortable because he doesn't believe in all that stuff. And then his friends (?) Mercedes is like "hey, I know you don't really believe in this, but my church is dedicating a sermon to your dad (or a song, I can't really piece this together) would you like to come?" Or something along those lines. It's nice, and then he's talking to his dad and says "I don't believe in God, but I do believe in you and me." And then I think his dad's hand moves or something. Crappy song plays, credits roll, the end. Apologies if I got it all wrong, but that's what I've been able to figure out so far.
The big argument that seems to be taking place is that Mercedes completely disregards Kurt's belifes by asking him to her church after he has made his point clear, and that the writers of Glee are trying to get across the idea that having no religion will ever be enough for anyone and that we need it or something.
Look, I get it. No, really, I get it. Religion can be used as the deadliest fucking weapon this side of the Atomic bomb. It can be used to brainwash, start wars, convert children, and build the most dedicated mass murdering armies the world has ever seen. As most of you know, I went through a conversion camp as a kid. And while it provides me with an endless source of comedic material as "the Jane Goodall of Christians" it isn't actually that funny. I can't be anywhere near a church without that old guilt biting me in the ass, no matter how liberal and non-Christian that church may be.
Hell, today one of the counselors from the camp came to visit some friends of mine, we got to talking, and I walked away from that conversation in panicked, hyperventilating tears muttering to myself like some damn Vietnam vet having flashbacks.
I get it.
That being said, I'm still really confused why people are getting up in arms about this episode. Some invited their friend to hear a song dedicated to their comatose father. Please, correct me if I'm wrong, but they weren't saying "you're wrong, I'm right, and I will drag your ass before the altar to prove it to you." But more something like "hey, I think this might make you feel better, would you please come see it?" And so the problem is...what exactly? That she ignored what he did or did not believe in, in the the hopes that she could get him to understand where she was coming from and see the gesture that she was trying to make towards him? And if Kurt was really so against going to see this church and its songs, why didn't he just not go?
From this point on, I will be talking in pure observation and personal opinion.
Yes, my dad died, as I've mention and as most of you already know. Lets all be sad for Jessie because her father is a pile of ash in an earn somewhere. No, not my point. I only mention this because it works towards my point that religion can be just as comforting in a time of greif to an Agnostic as it would be to a Christian. Seriously, there were prayer circles happening in my own house. I wasn't a part of them but still, it was kind of nice to see. More towards the Glee point, there were sermons and songs dedicated to my father almost every Sunday, all of which I was personally invited to go see. And you know what? I did.
Know something else? It was nice.
I didn't go because I though this would all magically save my dad, because clearly it didn't, and I never expected it to. Even in the early days of his sickness when I would acutally pray for him, I could still feel that little voice in my head saying "this is pointless." I went because there was this group of hundreds of people all thinking about how much they wanted my father to be well again, and how sad they were to see him pass. And they were expressing that to me in the only way they knew how. I had countless members of that church come and hug me, most of whom I couldn't even name. Yeah, it was a little odd, but it was also really kind. I needed to feel that kind of support from people who barely knew me. It helped.
Before my dad slipped into the coma that would last three days before his body gave out, he requested his memorial service to be done in that church. The one that had dedicated so much time and effort into helping him recover, and helping his family to grieve when he didn't. The one that had get well cards and flowers being sent to his room every day. The one with the head minister that would come over every other day, just to sit with him for a few hours. He didn't want his memorial to be in the hands of people that had never met him, he wanted it to be this church. And I will never stop being thankful to him that it was there.
To sum up:
I don't even know. I'm not trying to prove anyone wrong in this damn post, I'm just making a statement. If I totally missed the point that everyone is trying to make about this episode, forget what I said. This is all based on what I've heard over the course of the day. You have your opinions of religion, and I have mine. The fact that my dad died, and we had churches praying for us doesn't make me any more right than the people I know who hated this episode. I just wanted to give my opinion on this thing. Hence the purpose of a blog.
And yes, I will be reading all of those blog posts to write this thing as I can't even remember the names of these kids.
From what I can gather, there was this kid named Kurt who is an atheist or just doesn't really believe in God. And then his dad goes into a coma and his friends start praying for him, he is uncomfortable because he doesn't believe in all that stuff. And then his friends (?) Mercedes is like "hey, I know you don't really believe in this, but my church is dedicating a sermon to your dad (or a song, I can't really piece this together) would you like to come?" Or something along those lines. It's nice, and then he's talking to his dad and says "I don't believe in God, but I do believe in you and me." And then I think his dad's hand moves or something. Crappy song plays, credits roll, the end. Apologies if I got it all wrong, but that's what I've been able to figure out so far.
The big argument that seems to be taking place is that Mercedes completely disregards Kurt's belifes by asking him to her church after he has made his point clear, and that the writers of Glee are trying to get across the idea that having no religion will ever be enough for anyone and that we need it or something.
Look, I get it. No, really, I get it. Religion can be used as the deadliest fucking weapon this side of the Atomic bomb. It can be used to brainwash, start wars, convert children, and build the most dedicated mass murdering armies the world has ever seen. As most of you know, I went through a conversion camp as a kid. And while it provides me with an endless source of comedic material as "the Jane Goodall of Christians" it isn't actually that funny. I can't be anywhere near a church without that old guilt biting me in the ass, no matter how liberal and non-Christian that church may be.
Hell, today one of the counselors from the camp came to visit some friends of mine, we got to talking, and I walked away from that conversation in panicked, hyperventilating tears muttering to myself like some damn Vietnam vet having flashbacks.
I get it.
That being said, I'm still really confused why people are getting up in arms about this episode. Some invited their friend to hear a song dedicated to their comatose father. Please, correct me if I'm wrong, but they weren't saying "you're wrong, I'm right, and I will drag your ass before the altar to prove it to you." But more something like "hey, I think this might make you feel better, would you please come see it?" And so the problem is...what exactly? That she ignored what he did or did not believe in, in the the hopes that she could get him to understand where she was coming from and see the gesture that she was trying to make towards him? And if Kurt was really so against going to see this church and its songs, why didn't he just not go?
From this point on, I will be talking in pure observation and personal opinion.
Yes, my dad died, as I've mention and as most of you already know. Lets all be sad for Jessie because her father is a pile of ash in an earn somewhere. No, not my point. I only mention this because it works towards my point that religion can be just as comforting in a time of greif to an Agnostic as it would be to a Christian. Seriously, there were prayer circles happening in my own house. I wasn't a part of them but still, it was kind of nice to see. More towards the Glee point, there were sermons and songs dedicated to my father almost every Sunday, all of which I was personally invited to go see. And you know what? I did.
Know something else? It was nice.
I didn't go because I though this would all magically save my dad, because clearly it didn't, and I never expected it to. Even in the early days of his sickness when I would acutally pray for him, I could still feel that little voice in my head saying "this is pointless." I went because there was this group of hundreds of people all thinking about how much they wanted my father to be well again, and how sad they were to see him pass. And they were expressing that to me in the only way they knew how. I had countless members of that church come and hug me, most of whom I couldn't even name. Yeah, it was a little odd, but it was also really kind. I needed to feel that kind of support from people who barely knew me. It helped.
Before my dad slipped into the coma that would last three days before his body gave out, he requested his memorial service to be done in that church. The one that had dedicated so much time and effort into helping him recover, and helping his family to grieve when he didn't. The one that had get well cards and flowers being sent to his room every day. The one with the head minister that would come over every other day, just to sit with him for a few hours. He didn't want his memorial to be in the hands of people that had never met him, he wanted it to be this church. And I will never stop being thankful to him that it was there.
To sum up:
I don't even know. I'm not trying to prove anyone wrong in this damn post, I'm just making a statement. If I totally missed the point that everyone is trying to make about this episode, forget what I said. This is all based on what I've heard over the course of the day. You have your opinions of religion, and I have mine. The fact that my dad died, and we had churches praying for us doesn't make me any more right than the people I know who hated this episode. I just wanted to give my opinion on this thing. Hence the purpose of a blog.
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