15 posts tagged “love”
"Every year the shadow's darkness fades a little more." -Emily Small
I had a bunch of ideas for this week's clip. The normal routine of school is starting to set in again, and it seems like this term's pace will allow for more blogging than previous terms have, I look forward to writing for fun again on a more consistent basis.
However, I decided to forgo any of the previous ideas I had, to save them for tomorrow or next week. Instead I wanted to direct you to Red Pen's blog, who embedded a clip from The Daily Show back in 2001 in the show's first episode after the dark events that September.
My wife's father was a firefighter who was bravely running into the World Trade Center when everyone else was running out, and his life on this earth ended when the first tower collapsed. I say this to point out that for Emily, 9/11 never became a political lightning rod. It was never a justification of war, it was never used for leverage in an argument. For Emily, it was simply the tour Daddy never came home from. It was a very personal tragedy, played out on a very public stage.
I ask for everyone to take a few moments to remember what 9/11 and the events surrounding it actually mean in our country's history, and also that it is a microcosm of so much of the pain and ugliness that fills our world... but as Jon Stewart points out in the video clip, it is also a microcosm for how beautiful humanity can become, if only in brief glimpses.
So, while a day like this reminds Emily, and all of us, of Daddies who will never come home and hatred that leads to horrible violence and destruction, I hope that it also might remind all of us, as it reminds Emily, of people like her father, who died because he put himself in harm's way to get as many others as he could to safety. His life and death was a testimony to the potential for human beauty, and bravery, and love. I hope I can learn from him to do likewise.
So, all exaggeration aside, I am in fact excited.
There’s some pretty cool stuff going on at TOJ, such as a book coming out next month. New stuff over at the journal is an interview with Jim Wallis, and another with John Milbank. The current issue's focus is atheism.
You should check it out for yourself here: The Other Journal
It took far too long, but I finally got Muse's new live CD/DVD: HAARP.
To celebrate this joyous occasion, this week's clip is a live performance of Butterflies and Hurricanes.
Enjoy!
I never write for this blog anymore. Without a challenge with Waldo to keep me going it's easy for my school work to leave me without the requisite motivation to sit down and write something just for the fun of it. That's why I've decided to reinstate an old weekly blog series or two, just to give me a bit of added motivation to perhaps sit down and write something more frequently that isn't graded. This also might give me guidance as to what I might write about. One of the problems with being away for so long is figuring out where to start when I do feel like sitting down to write. Hopefully this added guidance will be a much needed writing aid.
I'm going to start off easy by reviving Props Tuesdays and the Clip of the Week on Wednesdays. I still might crash and burn, especially once school work picks up again, but I figured it was worth a try.
So, without futher ado, on with the distribution of props.
First off, I'm not the only one dishing out props these days, two gentlemen praised the wonderful community I'm currently a part of. You can check them out here: Seattle P-I and Belltown Messenger (the Messenger article is a fun read regardless of whether or not you care about where I go to school).
And finally, the main event. This week, I decided I'd love to shower praise on one of my favorite books of all time The Princess Bride by William Goldman. I must admit, it's daunting to consider writing about the virtues of this book, it's nearly impossible to know where to begin.
"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die."
Most of you probably recognize that quote from the film version, it's one of the more recognizable film quotes out there, especially on Christian college campuses across the nation. If I had a nickel for every time someone looked at my bookshelf and exclaimed "The Princess Bride became a book!", I would probably have like two bucks by now. TWO BUCKS!! I'd be able to buy, like, a bottle of water or something. I say this to point out the reality that most seem to have no idea that it was a book first, and not just any book, a hilarious, wonderful, amazing book. It's written by William Goldman, who the entire time is pretending to be abridging a longer version by a fictional Florinese (Florin being a fake country) writer named S. Morgenstern. Goldman goes so far as to fabricate an entire back story on how he heard Morgenstern's version for the first time, he also takes the time to create a fictional family for himself as well, quite unlike his family in real life. Goldman was also the one who would ultimately write the screen play based on the book, so there is certainly no complaints here about the film not being faithful to the author's original intentions.
I will say that while the movie is lovely, the book is infinitely superior. Take all the wonderful things about the movie: the dry wit, the clever storytelling, the wonderful characters, the comic timing, the great adventure of it all, etc... then multiply those by a trillion. Then you might be close to understanding how much better the book is than the movie.
There's better back stories for Fezzik and Inigo, there's a dangerous trek through the Zoo of Death, there's clearer satire and mockery, there's more exciting sword fights, there's an infinitely better ending, and all throughout the reader gets a significantly higher dose of William Goldman's fantastic sense of humor. When I read the book in early high school, it was the first book that I finished reading, and then wanted to flip back to the beginning and start all over again. It's great! Currently, I am reading the book to my wife. She's never read it or seen the film, so how's that for crazy?!
Anyway, I could go on all day, but I don't want to ruin the surprises for those who decide to read it themselves, which all of you should do! Now!
I miss blogging consistently here on the VOX. Where does my time go?
I figured a good way to blog without considerable effort would be to share some things I'm currently enjoying/being inspired by/appreciating/etc. at the moment.
Literally, right now, I am listening to this CD, and I'm loving it.
Finally, while taking stuff that can be heavy like the film and book listed above, it is nice to have an outlet that is simply pure fun. That's where this comes in:
All this, in addition to the lovely weather all of us are enjoying in Seattle makes for good times. =)
Recently, I was looking through some of my old blog posts for the first time since I actually wrote them. I decided I wanted to revisit some of them, mostly because I liked a few of them more than I remembered.
The first one I decided to rewrite was a post from my old, old blog, the one I had before I had ever heard of VOX.
It's about free hugs, and I posted the new version over at There's Treasure Everywhere if you care to read it. =)
/if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied/and illuminate the nos on their vacancy signs/if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks/then i'll follow you into the dark/
So it's time for another music post, these posts that it appears will never have a name. The song I decided to do this week isn't actually on the original list I came up with when I initially brainstormed to see if I could come up with enough songs off the top of my head to make starting the posts worthwhile. The song actually came to mind last night when I was hanging out with my friend Carl, as I told him about these particular posts I was doing.
The song is "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie.
/no blinding light or tunnels to gates of white/just our hands/clasped so tight/waiting for the hint of a spark/
[Since I bought the song on iTunes it doesn't work on VOX, so I posted the video instead.]
There are a seemingly infinite number of songs out there about love. This is another one of those songs, but with the quirk that it is also about death. While it certainly isn't the only song about death and love, most songs dealing with these topics are about pain, heartache, loss and angst. Not so with singer/songwriter Ben Gibbard. Instead the song is sweet, and about as hopeful as a descent into utter darkness can be.
We hear Gibbard sing of the approaching death of his loved one, promising he won't be far behind. His promise includes that if by some chance heaven and hell are full and won't let anyone else in, he will follow his love into the darkness. For my money, this is a spot on articulation of what real love is. And when we look at the story of Jesus we see the story of a God who loves a suffering Creation and chooses to join them in their pain.
There is a story in Christian tradition that tells of Jesus going to hell between the time of his crucifixion and his resurrection. He went there to break down the gates and free those trapped there. Now, without getting into a discussion about the existence of hell or any of those issues, I still enjoy the story from the standpoint that Jesus was willing to go to the ugliest place imaginable to set captives free. So, this song makes me think of that same sort of idea, that somehow this mysterious unfathomable God would follow us into the darkness rather than exist without us in the light.
I suppose in the Cartesian world many people think we're still living in, there is no room for a love that can overcome even death. Fortunately, many are finally beginning to catch up to the reality that the idea of a purely material world that can be reduced again and again until we completely understand it all is a myth. There is room for mystery again. I truly hope it is true that somewhere in this mystery, somewhere in this space of nonlinearity and beauty, there really is a love that assures us that we won't be alone. That there truly is a God, who sings to us, who assures us we're understood in our pain and in the fear of our approaching death, and who promises us that we will not be alone and that we will be followed even into the darkest of places.
/the time for sleep is now/but it's nothing to cry about because we'll hold each other soon/
Well what do ya know, a new post two days in a row.
I decided Leavenworth is close enough to Kansas City that it should really count as the same part of the trip, not to mention the fact that not very much happened in the single night we spent in the home of the famous prison.
Our time in Kansas City was nice, although not as uneventful as we had originally thought it would be. For those who are uninformed about the world of the Church of the Nazarene, Kansas City is currently the Mecca of the denomination. The denominational headquarters as well as Nazarene Theological Seminary are there, so having both attended Eastern Nazarene College there were many people to see in order to catch up and reminisce about old times. We stayed with my youth pastor from 8-12 grade and his family and were able to spend time with the Youngs, the Scotts, and the Grovesnors, It was great to be able to spend time in good conversation with such good friends.
We didn't really take in any sights in the area, it was really just a visit to be with people we missed.
After leaving KC we made the short trip to Leavenworth to visit with Emily's Aunt Bobbie and Uncle Ken. One thing this trip has made abundantly clear is that we are blessed with a large number of wonderful people in our life together. I'm struck by how amazing and undeserved it is that we are so loved by, and love, so many.
Life is good my friends, life is good.
The lights finally went down at Radio City. It was 8:30. A full thirty minutes had passed since the promised 8:00 start time. I suppose with no opening act the proper measures have to be taken to create the appropriate anticipation for the start of the show, not to mention the accommodation that must be made for those who wrongly assumed there would be an opening act. Opening acts provide adults with an excuse to stand in the absurdly long lines that they might pay the absurdly high prices for a beer or a martini (although at Radio City Music Hall the martinis are known as 'Rocketinis' and come with odd light-up drink stirrers). The delay provided the needed drink buying time for those who spent 60 bucks a ticket to spend the majority of the night drinking, certainly this is something they could have done somewhere else at a much lower cost, a bar for instance.
Anyway, as I was saying, the lights finally went down at Radio City. The only light to be seen in the now dark music hall was a dozen or so candles scattered in various spots across the stage. A shadow scuffled across the stage in the darkness to the piano at center stage. The shadow cleared his throat, and without a word began playing piano in the dark. The darkness all around us, the acoustics of the music hall, the sound of a lone piano, all creating a combination both beautiful and haunting.
A single spotlight slowly began to light directly over the piano, giving us our first real glimpse of Damien Rice. As the spotlight came on the melody at the piano became '9 Crimes.' It was then that for the first time we heard the perfect voice of Damien Rice. The beautiful simplicity of the moment was literally breathtaking. He could have stopped playing halfway through the first song and I would have been satisfied that it was worth the price of admission. I expected the show to be really good because I really enjoy Damien Rice, but the show exceeded my expectations more than any other show I can remember.
Every time it seemed as if the show had hit its peak it got better. The encore was the most original I've ever seen, but I won't spoil it in case you come upon the opportunity to see it for yourself. I really can't say enough, the whole show was fantastic. I can't imagine how good the show would have been if Lisa Hannigan had been there, the show would have actually been even better which is something I can't fathom. Yet, while the bad news is that she wasn't there, the good news is that she was in Ireland instead, recording an album of her own which is reason to be very excited.
The concert was part of a larger evening that was immensely entertaining, while I was at the show the Yankees were beating the Red Sox (and while that in and of itself means very little with the Sox enjoying a commanding lead in the divison, at this point I'll take what I can get), and then I got to go home and watch the season finale of Heroes on the DVR. It was a wonderful evening indeed!
So, anyway, sorry for not being around so much lately. Things have been terribly busy with the whole moving everything we own into storage and packing for a two month trip thing. Starting very soon I will actually convert this to a travel blog for the summer so that everyone who cares can be in the loop as Emily and I cross the country.
So, in case I don't get to post until then everyone have a splendid few days and remember what Heroes* tried to teach us: the world won't be saved by strength, but by compassion, sacrifice, and above all, love.
*Yes, I know, Heroes is a silly place to find truth, but I find it is often in the silliest places that truth is able to sneak behind our guard.
Well, I still plan to write a Sacred Sundays post about Crash, the winner of the Sacred Multiple Choice, however it has been harder than I expected to get my hands on a copy so I promise to write it as soon as I see it again and refresh my memory. This Sunday I will write about the runner-up, Ben Folds.
Ben Folds has been a pretty huge part of my music listening life, and thus my life in general, over the last 6 years or so. His an uncanny knack for combining sarcasm and compassion, humor and sadness, has been a large part of why he is firmly entrenched among my all-time favorite musicians and song-writers. From his amazing live shows that feel like a secret party in your friend's living room, to his ability, both live and recorded, to make his listeners feel like they are in on some sort of wonderful inside joke, Ben always seems to deliver the goods; from his days with his original trio, Ben Folds Five, with Darren Jessee (Drums) and Robert Sledge (Bass), to his solo CD "Rockin' The Suburbs" and finally to his more recent work teaming up with a new drummer, Lindsay Jamieson, and bassist, Jared Reynolds, still released under his solo moniker. He can move seamlessly from melancholy or peaceful to hyped up and energetic, at times within the same song. While he often uses story-telling to keep his self-revelation from becoming heavy-handed or self-gratifying, the rare times he does sing about himself directly he does so with an honesty that is both disarming and endearing.
It is this storytelling I just mentioned that is, in my opinion, Ben's greatest strength. If you listen to Folds for long, or even just glance thru his catalogue, you will quickly notice his tendency to have names in his titles: Carrying Cathy, Losing Lisa, Zak and Sara, Kate, Jane, The Ascent of Stan, Alice Childress, Eddie Walker, Gracie, and Fred Jones Pt. 2 just to name a few. His songs are full of characters, some real and many imaginary. Even when the title itself lacks a proper noun, there are more times than not still various characters in the song. I heard him talking about this tendency once, about his attempts to write songs that weren't about people, but he admits that while he tries a particular person or story he encounters will capture his imagination and sure enough he has another song with a name in the title. Even when Ben isn't telling a story, we as listeners will still get a sense of the context and circumstance of his lyrics, we can tell we are at the cross-section of a story.
It is Ben Folds' ability to tell a story that inspires in me the audacity to call his music Sacred. It is certainly a lofty claim when he himself would probably laugh at the idea, and yet I make the claim with the utmost confidence. There is nothing more Sacred than Story. Our lives are stories, Scripture is a series of stories that represent a larger story we all find ourselves in, and so much more can be said and shared thru story than thru proposition or doctrine or lecture. Our lives are stories, we all play a part in how all the stories that surround us turn out, and of course how the greater narrative unfolds as well.
Whether Ben is telling a story about an imaginary character, or telling us his own story like we see in songs like 'Brick' about an abortion he and his girlfriend got in high school, or 'Gracie' and 'Still Fighting It' which are songs about his two children, we see a tremendous care and compassion for the subjects of his stories. In 'Too Late' we find a lament about the suicide of fellow singer/songwriter Elliott Smith. In 'Cigarette' and 'Fred Jones Pt. 2' we find a character that started in a run-on sentence with no punctuation Ben came across in a newspaper one random day and ended up with a compassionately told tale of what must be one of the most tragic characters in all of music. He tells stories about people who are frail and beautiful, tragic and humorous, broken and triumphant. In these characters we see a window into Ben's own heart and mind, and also into our own condition as people. Sometimes life sucks and the best defense is sarcastic wit, sometimes vulnerability and openness is required, and thru it all the story moves forward.
If we listen, I think Ben's music has the ability to remind us that everyone has a story. The angry old bastard on the bus has a story, he may have watched everything he loved die or fall apart, perhaps life passed him by without his permission and he's angry at the reality that he is forgotten by the world before he's even dead. The shell of a man who appears alone after a trauma may have a bus load of people on their way just to celebrate his life. If we can remember how important our stories are we might find just a little extra grace for those we encounter throughout our day, and for ourselves as well. Our victories and failures, our strength and our brokenness, the times we reached the finish line and the times we've helplessly watched our dreams slip away, they are all earth-shatteringly important, if only to ourselves. We've all been surprised by love, we've all been blinded by the tears of rejection, and as author Henri Nouwen reminded us, that which is most intimate is also most universal.
Ben's stories remind me of these truths, at times in profound ways. We would be wise to listen carefully to the stories he has to tell, if only to remind us of our own stories, and to remind us that there is nothing more important, nothing more Sacred, than a good story, and nothing more beautiful than a good storyteller.
