Symphony

Of the many one-hit wonders out there, this is one of my favorites, and for some reason it has been on the air quite a bit lately. That, or that I am listening to the radio more than normal, so perhaps it has an already heavy rotation here. Neither here nor there.

But, the Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony” is right up there on the top of my list as one of those songs that just nails it. There has been controversy about the song with regards to plagiarism and counter-plagiarism, but in all honesty, I could care less about that since the Verve’s version is inspired.

However, I also heard from the DJ on Studio Brussels that the lead singer said that the likelihood of the Beatles having a reunion was better than the Verve ever getting back together. Well, pretty strong comparison, but too bad. However, it is interesting that a band, even with dissonance amongst themselves can at times produce such symphonic consonance.

I will always be fascinated by music and the creative drive behind it and am so grateful that there are musicians in the world and those people who truly are gifted with making it. I know that my life would be lacking so much without the symphonies in our lives that make the Bittersweet easier to take.

At times I do feel like a million different people, so it helps to know that others have felt likewise and had the vision and ability to make the music behind it. Hats off.

Bright Eyes

When you write about someone’s death, you may think of it as a memorial, a eulogy, a requiem, an obituary, an oration, a valediction, or many other ways. In short, there is no one good way to say good-bye to the one audience member you are not sure is hearing your message or not.

There’s the rub.

For whom the bell tolls, and for whom the words flow. Is it the survivors, or for the departed?

I received an email today from a former student informing of the death of a mutual friend, a man who had grown from the kid that was in my class to a very troubled person, though in some ways, was all too clear. Unfortunately, this email did not come to me as a surprise. There are those we know will burn brightly and shatter into the night as quickly, for some reason, we know. I knew this of Joshua.

Joshua was a visionary, but he was also deluded by some of his visions, and those visions both comforted and haunted him, guided him and derailed him. His visions were of Love, and what is Love, and is that not the guiding principle behind everything?

Yes, and No, dearly departed warrior of the Soul.

Joshua contacted me on Sunday, two days before he died, asking about the true definition of Love from Plato’s Symposium that he could use. The Symposium, which literally means a “drinking party” is an extended ode to the god Eros, or Love, and all his attributes. My response to him was that, it was just that, a sym-posium, and that all of the discourses and paeans to Love were collective, not distinct. Parts for the whole, the calculus of the unknown.

Although Joshua suffered from certain afflictions of the body and mind, his Soul was pure. Some may argue that how can that be, but those some would be all too arrogant to say that he or she knew the Truth.

Life is not a tick-the-box scenario, where we can say, “yep, you got that one right, nope, that one is wrong.”

My heart and Soul grieves for Joshua, his family, his friends, and the unfortunate driver of the truck who ended his life, and whose life was in turn invaded and tormented by the tormented Soul of a stranger.

Joshua had a message, a message of Love, one that was all-encompassing, but perhaps the world cannot encompass that message at our stage of existence. Why does the greatest power of Life, that being Love, become our undoing at times? It is a mystery and a struggle, and a power that we may forever strive to know.

Farewell, Joshua, may you have found the Peace, the Love, and Beauty that you so desperately sought to find.

Namaste,

Robert

Doctor Who...

Seriously? Dr. Who?

Yes, seriously. Dr. Who.

There is so much background on this particular posting that I am actually going to stick to the basics. Meaning, there will be more to follow.

Dr. Who, the BBC series of the Time Lord's escapades, known simply as the Doctor, has in the past decade become part and parcel to much of my thoughts about Life. A serious Tom Baker fan, somehow swooned by a seriously charming Matt Smith, is not one to relinquish the role easily, but I have become a fan of the old and the new.

However, it was a weird search of mine to find ways to reproduce the opening sequence of Dr. Who, which you can do, and the whirring of the Tardis that lead me to this.

And, then I realized how many soccer, er....football games have been innocently or ignorantly jamming to Dr. Who.

I Love IT....!

It really doesn't get much better than this...as a geek...

You Are A Tourist

Recently coming back from Austin, a city that was so near and dear to my heart for so many years, I left with a pretty empty feeling, and was reminded of Death Cab for Cutie's song below.

I have fought with the idea that I left too soon, and not early enough to both prolong and prevent certain  aspects of my life that Austin both fed and fed off of.

Cities are strange, and I have so many strange affinities for many of them around the world. Some I want to embrace, others I am intrigued by, but only superficially, and some I am down right intimidated and in awe of.

With Austin, it feels so provincial, and that can be comforting, but also disconcerting. Going to the same coffee house and seeing the EXACT same people as from 20 years ago is great, but also creepy.

I leave Austin each time with less nostalgia and more analgesia. You just don't move me any more, baby. I love you, but, our time has passed.

So, I guess, now, I am, sadly enough, when returning to Austin, a Tourist...sadly.

Tattooed on my Mind

Amongst many things, I am rather particular, much to the initial amusesment of people, which usually dissipates to tolerance, then followed by annoyance of my particularities. As such, I don't have many friends, and, well, I probably wouldn't be so keen on myself either. But, I am stuck with myself.

One of my things that I am rather particular about is covers. There is nothing like a good cover, but a bad one, well, I have no mercy. Furthermore, not just a cover, but an acoustic rendition of a song can be beyone painful. Coming from one who has no musical ability whatsoever, but pure appreciation for everyone who does, I do give credit where credit is due.

Hands down, without a shadow of a doubt, the BEST cover I have EVER heard was on piazza San Stefano, in Bologna, by a guitar-slinging guy who belted out "Black" by Pearl Jam.

I have seldom been in awe of acoustic singing, outside of Sinead O'Connor, and a very small number of others, but this kid nailed it.

Why am I thinking of "Black"? Well, been discussing tattoos of late and it did cross my mind, as well as a discussion about covers and the further merits of Eddie Vedder versus Cobain, etc. Well, ol' Eddie V. is tops for me amongst the Grunge crowd, so I guess the combination of the memory and the tribute came together, hand over hand.

Sleepwalking Through it All

To be present seems to be the hardest condition for humans, to really, truly be present in a situation actually takes effort, which seems quite absurd when you think about it. But, there's the rub, when you think about, you are no longer in the Present, but somewhere else, thinking about it.

The way we speak and communicate also has much to do with it. As a lover of languages and amateur linguist myself, I have been fascinated by the issues of Time in all of the languages that I have studied, and how that is so integral to our very thinking and communication. Some languages will avoid certain tenses like the plague, while others will be highly conditional or literally stuck in the Past, English being one of them. We are nearly conditioned to be conditional and to use the Past more than most modern languages that I have encountered.

I believe that the conundrum about the glass being half empty or half full, depending upon one's disposition towards pessimism or optimism is largely linked to how one view's the Past, Present, and Future.

If you believe that the glass is half empty, most likely you are stuck in the Past, dwelling on what has been lost, or what  you could have had, or could have been, and not what you are.

If, however, you believe that the glass is half full, you may have placed too much stock in the Future, and may not even realize what you have right in front of you. Although superficially it seems that it is better to do so, to view the Potential of the situation is still vastly inferior to viewing the actuality of the situation, which is the Present.

We are prone to sleepwalk through life, always looking backwards to the Past or forwards to the Future, all the while, the Present slips away infinitesimally by us, passing through a gossamer filter from the Future to the Past.

Thinking about this, I am reminded of Gotye's recent "Eyes Wide Open" video and lyrics.

Give it a thunk.

This City at Night

I love to walk, whether in a large Metropolitan city, out in the county, along a beach, up a mountain path, or sometimes in circles as it often feels. But, there is something special about the Walk.

And, there is also something special about walking a big city at night.

Last evening, after dinner I took the Tube down to various stops near the Thames and did some walking. I was nearly alone. Partially because of the more business aspect of the area and there is no residential, and partly because nearly the entire city was packed in all of the pubs watching the Soccer match, from which you would sporadically hear roars of frustration, jubilation, or anger.

So, I had a chunk of London to myself, almost literally for the span of nearly an hour. I felt like I was in  a story such as Cormac McCarthy's The Road, in which I was walking through a post-apocalyptic urban waste land, devoid of much human contact.

But, it was a fitting last night for this particular visit to London, which was different in many ways than the previous ones.

I did have Snow Patrol's song in my mind at times, and it was rather fitting.