Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Pascal on Christianity and . . . the Blues.

The Harvard Classics 15 min. a day program is an excellent way to dip into something thoughtful for a moment or two. I've commenced the habit and was rewarded with an excerpt from Blaise Pascal's Thoughts. I had heard of Pascal's mathematical achievements, but I was unaware of his passion for religion. Indeed, he devoted much of his intellectual life to defending the Jansenist sect of Catholicism.

In the particular essay I read, he posits that a person must come to know 1) there is a God and 2) their need for redemption, or their "wretchedness," as he put it. The world is set up in such a way as to make us aware of those two facts. There are moments when we experience the reality of God: in nature, in the power of love, our consciences may evidence it. But there are equally moments of godlessness . . . when we sin or watch the sufferings of others at the hand of sin or natural disasters, etc. In other words, our experience is set up in such a way that we experience both the reality of God and the reality of living in a fallen world, a world in which we are separated from God . . . hence the need for a divine intermediary, Jesus Christ. Christianity allows us to make sense of why we sometimes feel God is there, and why we sometimes feel that He isn't. That's because he *is* there, it's just that, in our current fallen state, we are separated from him. Pascal's reasoning is perhaps the closest we can ever come to answering the question, "If God is real, then why do bad things happen?" In fact, Pascal explained that our awareness of evil and suffering can potentially be faith-promoting because it can prove to us the need for Jesus Christ.

This line of thinking brought the blues to mind. I've always wondered why blues music feels so powerful and I wonder if it has something to do with the blending of the major and minor modes . . . do we possibly hear that as a musical metaphor for life, with it's blending of good and evil as discussed by Pascal, as experienced by all of us? I think the blues might be an excellent sonic illustration of Christian doctrine.

Whoa.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Lady Gaga changd my life . . .



I always respected Gaga's extraordinary visual imagination and songwriting abilities, but this performance doubled my admiration for her. It shows off her voice, performance skills, piano playing, and rock 'n roll attitude. As a singer in training, I'm wowed by anyone who sounds good live and it was nice to see her performing at her instrument without all the potentially distracting clothes and dancers and sets, etc. She's so skilled at putting on a spectacle that I think it sometimes distracts from her sheer musicianship.

As far as the rock 'n roll attitude, there are very few who can pull this off. It's a spiritual orientation and a powerful, devil-may-care charisma that few possess. No woman has ever nailed it to my satisfaction with the exception of Alanis Morisette. So big props to Gaga for taking us to that place . . .

Oh yeah ... I switched from piano to guitar some years ago feeling that the piano didn't let me "rock out" enough . . . but there was something about this performance that made me want to revive the piano playing again.

Thank you for inspiring me, Miss Gaga!

Friday, July 9, 2010

Trey Songz: Cutie-Pie Perv or just honest?

MTV Unplugged with Trey Songz looks pretty cute, Trey has a sweet face. I was expecting music that was equally sweet and, well, let's just say I was caught off my guard: that adorable little son-of-a-gun knows a thing or two about yep, mmmhmmm.

Isn't it funny how they have no shame in Contemporary RnB? And how they equate romance with sexual "performance"? The tracks start off with cheezy synths and chimes and cooing vocables and the next thing you know you gotta skip to the next track because someone walks in the room or you start blushing or you just feel flat out uncomfortable . . . whichever comes first ;) Contemporary RnB always makes me feel like I'm eavesdropping, like I'm some voyeur peeping at a couple on their honeymoon, like I snuck in when the happy two weren't looking and made myself nice and comfy under the marriage bed.

Okay, cheesiness and explicit content aside . . . it did occur to me that perhaps I'm being just a little too hard on Trey Songz and the whole genre and that society is perhaps too hard on men in general when it comes to sexuality. I've personally never been one to stereotype men as sex-crazed beasts, but the stereotype does exist and it comes up in conversation between women all the time when they discuss relationship woes. The thing that women never like to admit, though, is that they *expect* guys to initiate and want them that way.

I don't think there's a women alive who isn't disappointed if a guy doesn't make a move of some kind on a first date, definitely by the second. And this is true even for "wait until marriage" types like myself. If I went out with someone and they didn't do something I wouldn't be sure if they liked me as more than friends; I'd want to sense, almost from day one, that they wanted to sleep with me :) And it really wouldn't be cool to me if a guy was too shy to touch me, kiss me, etc. And I would much, much prefer it if he initiated. Don't get me wrong . . . if I thought a guy was the right one and he was super shy, I would never let that get in the way of my dating him . . . I'm just speaking of what is ideal in my imagination. And, interestingly, I think the more reserved a girl is, the more she expects a guy to get the ball rolling . . . and she is exactly the kind of girl who is also the most prudish and critical of men being too "sexual." I know of straight-laced women like this. They complain of "morals these days" but I'm quite sure that if their significant other didn't get the job done nothing would happen in the birds and bees department.

So . . . that's a lot to expect from guys, I think. I have three younger brothers and I feel compassion for guys since I spend so much time with my bros and inevitably talk about girls and relationship stuff with them. It's nice to be the girl in certain respects, to be on the receiving end of everything. Not that girls can't take matters into their own hands, but, you know, traditionally speaking it's the other way around.

And now back to Trey Songz. Maybe when he sings his long list of things he's going to do to this or that girl, he's really just targeting exactly what women expect or want from guys whether they like to admit it or not . . .

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Poe: the tortured genius

Edgar Allen Poe's poetry is mysterious, romantic, surreal, and dark . . . but not nearly as twisted as his short stories might lead you to predict. A sensitive, intelligent man emerges from the text. Poe seemed to write poetry for himself. Poetry was a way for him to capture and preserve beautiful things he imagined or experienced. It was also a way for him to document his dreams and nonsensical inner life. I enjoy how he lets his subconscious mind run wild, though I must admit his poetry can be a bit (too) inscrutable. I also enjoy the lyricism of it.

Baudelaire and Poe have a lot in common in that I think they were both visionary men who turned to poetry as a place to turn their visions into realities. However, Baudelaire is more pleasurable for me to read because, as discussed in my previous post, his visions take us to a "higher reality," a view of things that lifts us out of ourselves. Poe's visions, on the other hand, seem to come from a place deep inside his brain that, while fascinating, is purely subjective.

Poe was not only a poet, he was also an intellectual and literary critic. One can sense in his poetry that he is thinking things through, or reasoning with the reader. Some of his poems are complete dreamscapes, but some feel more rooted in rational analysis. One senses a tension between the mind and the heart. Baudelaire, on the other hand, has completely left his mind behind . . . he is pure emotion and spirituality.

Baudelaire: the intangible becomes tangible

Baudelaire is my favorite poet at the moment. What I admire most about his work is his transcendental awareness of something bigger than himself, and his devotion to expressing that in words and providing us with concrete imagery that will make that awesome something real. A man of highs and lows, the scope of his poetry is cathartic. Further, he has a taste for the beautiful and the magical that makes his work very intoxicating. At times his work takes a strong turn towards hedonism, but it always feels tethered to an awareness of good verses evil. His poetry is complex in a real, human way. I love it.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Stephen King: entertainment and the subconcious mind

In search of Halloween entertainment, I discovered Stephen King's Cat's Eye under the "supernatural horror" genre (perfect for those of us who want scariness w/o the blood) on nextflix. After a mindless 20 min. wasted on Interview with a Vampire, (Brad Pitt is just too cute to be a vampire and Tom Cruise looked ridiculous with red cough syrup dripping from his teeth every five minutes), Cat's Eye helped me to rebuild the brain cells I lost. (I promise I'm done with parentheses . . . as of) now.

Upon completion of the film, I felt as impressed by it all as I was at the start of things, but my adulation left me scratching my head. It's easy to say why some writing is great: it might convey powerful ideas that change your life (E.M. Forster) or overwhelm you by the sheer craftsmanship of it (Keats). In this case, the highest compliment that I could give the work was that it was very entertaining. The word entertainment connotes pure mind fluff, which certainly didn't fit the bill. I felt like these stories were working on me at a deeper level than I could comprehend.

Which brings me to my new grand theory about the whole "it's just entertainment" thing. I've decided that all art, whether it's high-brow or low-brow, lofty or merely entertaining, must contain powerful ideas. It's the ideas that make the work capture our imagination, whether the intended effect is sobering or just plain fun. The difference between art that is applauded for being "intellectual" and art that is relegated to the "it' just entertainment" category, has to do with how the art form works on the brain. It it effects us at a conscious or rational level, then we will certify the art as being full of big ideas. If the art works on us at a subconscious level, we will likely say that the art is gripping, but we may fail to give it the credit it deserves, mainly because we are not fully attuned to how the the art works on us.

Comedy is perhaps the best example of what I mean. Have you ever watched a comic routine and felt like a lot more was communicated than meets the eye? It's tempting to say "oh, it just made me laugh" . . . but when you think about it more deeply, you realize that the comic was playing off of deep seated stereotypes, social mores, and taboos? In Stephen King's case, his stories might seem like they are "just entertaining," but they pack a punch by assaulting our deeply rooted concept of real v. fantasy and, above all, by exploring the perennially fascinating good-verses-evil theme. King's stories target subliminal instincts and values without us knowing it.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Shakespeare: the language of the heart

I recently read (and reread) an excerpt from Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis. What impressed me the most was the dramatic flair of the writing. Every stanza was devoted to fleshing out the fiery passions of Venus, bringing her to life for us like a prima donna on stage. Shakespeare seems to be most interested in the emotional and the irrational and how those urges translate themselves into action. In this poem and in the plays I've read so far, the characters are all driven by passions which result in actions which may or may not have desirable consequences. But the characters never worry about things like consequences. Hearts are on fire, the gestures are grand, characters get tangled up with themselves and with life . . . just the perfect recipe for a great play. It's Shakespeare: would we expect anything less?