It's A Good Life If You Don't Weaken

Every Tuesday and Thursday I take the Framingham/Worcester commuter rail from Worcester to Boston. This ride takes me through a corridor of industry past and present - through the burgeoning CSX rail yard in Worcester, past the Dennison factory in Framingham, then into the houses of rich people in the Bostonian suburbs. Threaded through all of this is the rough nature of Massachusetts, with its brown grasses and naked limbs, following the curves of scrubby streams. There's a pair of swans I look at, usually in the pond next to the pump house at Framingham that I sometimes imagine living in. In the spring, skunk cabbage rushes up everywhere. The whole landscape is littered with tires, trash, the occasional sofa. I don't see a lot of nearby animals, which is a funny contrast to the regularity with which I see mice scurrying around on the tracks while I wait inside for the red line train at Park Street. Inside, life by the third rail; outside, not a creature stirring.



When I make this trip, I'm usually listening to the Tragically Hip. Several years ago, my friend Ben asked me if I wanted to go to a Hip concert in Boston at what used to be the Avalon and is now the House of Blues. I'd never heard of them, but I went anyway. It was one of those beautiful nights where you get out of the T station and feel the air wash over you like it's thrilled you could make it. The Red Sox were playing the Yankees, so I had to wait three trains before I could elbow my way into the sea of red and navy. I wound up squished next to the only other four people on the train who were going to the concert, Canadians who followed me out of the T station yelling to each other, "come on, come on, she KNOWS," which was great - here I am being credited with mystical navigational skills, and the only real secret was to follow everyone else. The concert was one of the first I've enjoyed as an event. I usually like concerts fine, but wouldn't necessarily say they're a thing I like to do. I came home and started listening to the Hip.



In the beginning, I responded to the sound of the Hip, rather than the specific lyrics, because I simply didn't KNOW enough of the latter to get all that excited about them. Even that sound, though, speaks of a particular kind of experience. There is a gentleness to their music, that I think is an admission that we all need it. We need some softness in our lives because we are always in transit and always about to fall. That this should be so evident even in the sound of their music speaks quite clearly to my experience of Canadians themselves. While I have met some really remarkable Canadians, I've also met some real assholes, people who I truly wanted to punch in the face. Still, this quietness rests in all of them, a quiet strength that comes from something shared.



When I started listening to enough that I learned the lyrics, I decided two things: that the Hip might be too smart for me, and that they pull from a deeply enviable kind of nostalgia. I say they might be too smart for me because their references - historical, literary, hockey related - are so various and occasionally so subtle that I feel I could study them for years and still not be able to hang them all together in a frame...or else study them for years and find some kind of epic blueprint for Canadian world domination. I'm sure that people who have loved the Hip longer and better than I have tried this; I have a long road ahead.



But that second point, I think, is why I listen to them on the train so often.  Nostalgia for nostalgia's sake isn't always good; there are a lot of people in America right now desperately striving towards the past in the name of a misplaced nostalgia for a simpler time, as though the political conflicts and worries that we are staring down today didn't exist back then, forgetting that there were even bigger problems and yet more injustice.  This points to a fundamental misunderstanding of what politics are.  Politics are the navigation of our law through the stormy seas of human interaction.  Whatever form they take, political discourses are an attempt to sort out how to let each person be human.  That doesn't change.  But there is a nostalgia that fits with these shifting tides, and this is a sense of what was good and what was achieved, and the soft, glowing pride that attends those things and pushes us towards the future.



Right now, I think this nostalgia attaches itself most often to our thoughts about industry in America, and in Canada as well.  We are linked together whether we like it or not.  We are brothers, with all that entails - the competition, the cross-purposes, the conflict, the conspiracy, the love.  I think we conceive of industry in the same way as well.  These are nations built on industry, and now industry is fading, to make way for new economies.  While we want to succeed in these new economies, I think we see our work in old industry as being fundamentally about being Canadian, being American.  This is the industry my train passes through, and it's particularly poignant to see how some industry is continuing on, wearing a mantle of rust, and some has been reconstituted into the new world, like the Dennison building by Framingham.  It's still a giant heap of brick, with a massive window sporting an ornate blue Dennison "D," through which light once shone on a paper milling floor.  The window is still there, though the machines have quieted and changed.  This is how the Hip feels to me.  Their songs feel like fondness for making things on the strength of our backs, and standing on shifting sands.  Their songs feel like a reminder that things are good, even if they're not the same.   They're songs about working men, and about quiet strength.  I love those songs for that.

What My Workout Sounds Like On the Elliptical

To Me

Like a G6, Far East Movement
Magic, B.o.B and Rivers Cuomo
Diva, Beyonce
Break Ya Neck, Busta Rhymes
Up In Here, DMX
Right Round, Flo Rida
Lose Control, Missy Elliott
Carry Out, Timbaland feat. Justin Timberlake
Blow, Ke$ha
I Wanna Go, Britney Spears
Party Rock Anthem, LMFAO
Hello, Martin Solveig feat. Dragonette
Let It Rock, Kevin Rudolf feat. Lil Wayne

To People Who Are Not Me

whizz

whizz

whizz

"..gettin' slizzered..." 

whizz 

whizz

whizz

"I'm a wikie woo, I'ma I'ma wikie woo"

whizz 

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

"hahaha riots!"

whizz

whizz

whizz

*tapping on machine handles*

whizz 

whizz 

whizz

*whistling bit from "I Wanna Go"*

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

"Every day I'm shuf-shuff'lin'"

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

"Hello!"

whizz 

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

whizz

"Cady, it's water and no pants time!"

Meanwhile, In a News Studio Far, Far Away...

My friend Joe sent me a message today that said "have you heard herman cain's gospel album yet?"  Needless to say, I assumed this was a joke, but no, my friends...GOP Presidential candidate Herman Cain has a gospel album out.  It's actually pretty good!!  He has a good voice, though the songs available on that link are kind of muzak-y gospel.  Bravo, Mr. Cain!  Please do more singing and stop running for President.

Joe and I talked a little bit about the album, and he eventually declared: "Barack Obama must respond, preferably with rap."

This is what happened in my mind after I read that sentence.

"What the hell is that?"  One of the producers peered into the monitor, his lips pulling back over his teeth as his eyes narrowed into intent slits.  "Is he...bleeding?  Cut to camera 3 until we can get makeup in there."

In front of the cameras, a drop of blood fell to the shoulder of Bill O'Reilly's meticulously tailored suit, soaking into the patriotic navy blue wool.  He shook his head slightly, flinging fine droplets across his desk.  "And when we come back, we'll be with Neil Cavuto to talk about the latest economic policy."  As the broadcast cut to commercial, the makeup team and one of the cameramen ran to O'Reilly.  The anchor was surprised by the flurry of activity, but as he put his hand to his ear to verify the makeup artist's story, he caught sight of a PA standing at the far side of the studio.  "What's that kid doing?"  The PA was clutching a sheaf of papers and staring at one of the lights.  The papers were shaking as though an extremely localized tornado was passing through, and the young man's mouth hung open, a thin stream of drool escaping onto his shirt.  The makeup team's head whipped between the PA and O'Reilly, who now had a stream of blood running from his ear.

"Guys, we have to be on air in 30 seconds, move it!"  One of the cameramen went to check out the PA while the team did what they could to stanch the bleeding and repair O'Reilly's makeup.  As the broadcast resumed, O'Reilly and Cavuto began discussing the economic squabble of the moment, only to be interrupted by a loud BANG.  O'Reilly looked up at the control window and saw half the glass obscured by a horrific splatter of greenish-yellow goo.  This was the point where Cavuto noticed that the bleeding at O'Reilly's ear had started again.  "Bill, your ear..." he began, only to be interrupted by another BANG, this one from the PA who had taken ill not minutes before.  When the two men looked in that direction, all they saw was the cameraman, covered in gore, trying to crawl towards them with a piece of paper.  Cavuto got up, followed closely by O'Reilly, and ran to the man.

"Obama...has...a rap album."

With this last missive delivered, the cameraman relaxed, smiling beatifically, and then exploded, covering the talent in a sheen of greenish bile.  As those words were spoken aloud, a massive explosion rocked Fox News.  The windows shattered, though the structure remained intact.  When the medical examiners released their report, they could only say that the cause of the combustions suffered by every member of Fox News were undetermined, but noted that if they had to take a guess, they would have said it looked like they all died of sheer glee.

These Are Our 95 Theses

I recently came across Lupe Fiasco's "Words I Never Said," and the timing is pretty good since I've been feeling quite politically powerless lately and it's reassuring to hear people expressing your concerns, so you know it's not just you.  I'm not actually that wild about the song as a musical endeavor, but the message has a lot of good stuff and/or hard facts. Here are the lyrics:

It’s so loud inside my head
With words that I should have said
As I drown in my regrets
I can’t take back the words I never said
I can’t take back the words I never said

[Lupe Fiasco]
I really think the war on terror is a bunch of bullshit
Just a poor excuse for you to use up all your bullets
How much money does it take to really make a full clip
9/11 building 7 did they really pull it
Uhh, And a bunch of other cover ups
Your childs future was the first to go with budget cuts
If you think that hurts then, wait here comes the uppercut
The school was garbage in the first place, that's on the up and up
Keep you at the bottom but tease you with the uppercrust
You get it then they move it so you never keeping up enough
If you turn on TV all you see’s a bunch of “what the fucks”
Dude is dating so and so blabbering bout such and such
And that ain't Jersey Shore, homie that's the news
And these the same people that supposed to be telling us the truth
Limbaugh is a racist, Glenn Beck is a racist
Gaza strip was getting bombed, Obama didn’t say shit
That's why I ain't vote for him, next one either
I’ma part of the problem, my problem is I’m peaceful
And I believe in the people.

[Skylar Grey]
It’s so loud inside my head
With words that I should have said!
As I drown in my regrets
I can’t take back the words I never said
I can’t take back the words I never said

[Lupe Fiasco - Verse 2]
Now you can say it ain't our fault if we never heard it
But if we know better than we probably deserve it
Jihad is not a holy war, wheres that in the worship?
Murdering is not Islam!
And you are not observant
And you are not a muslim
Israel don’t take my side cause look how far you’ve pushed them
Walk with me into the ghetto, this where all the Kush went
Complain about the liquor store but what you drinking liquor for?
Complain about the gloom but when’d you pick a broom up?
Just listening to Pac ain't gone make it stop
A rebel in your thoughts, ain't gon make it halt
If you don’t become an actor you’ll never be a factor
Pills with million side effects
Take em when the pains felt
Wash them down with Diet soda!
Killin off your brain cells
Crooked banks around the World
Would gladly give a loan today
So if you ever miss a payment
They can take your home away!

[Skylar Grey]
It’s so loud inside my head
With words that I should have said!
As I drown in my regrets
I can’t take back the words I never said, never said
I can’t take back the words I never said

[Lupe Fiasco - Verse 3]
I think that all the silence is worse than all the violence
Fear is such a weak emotion that's why I despise it
We scared of almost everything, afraid to even tell the truth
So scared of what you think of me, I’m scared of even telling you
Sometimes I’m like the only person I feel safe to tell it to
I’m locked inside a cell in me, I know that there’s a jail in you
Consider this your bailing out, so take a breath, inhale a few
My screams is finally getting free, my thoughts is finally yelling through

[Skylar Grey]
It’s so loud Inside my head
With words that I should have said!
As I drown in my regrets
I can’t take back the words I never said 

Some of it I can't be bothered with (no, the government didn't take out building 7, stop that) but a lot of is is worryingly sound.  Here's the video.



At the end you'll notice a reference to the L.A.S.E.R. Manifesto.  Maybe it's the civil service talking but wow, people need to stop forcing their various manifestos into acronyms.  Take the time to title stuff something substantive.  In any case, here's Lupe Fiasco's:

To Every Man, Woman & Child...

1. We Want An End To The Glamorization Of Negativity In The Media.

2. We Want An End To Status Symbols Dictating Our Worth As Individuals.

3. We Want A Meaningful And Universal Education System.

4. We Want Substance In The Place Of Popularity.

5. We Will Not Compromise Who We Are To Be Accepted By The Crowd.

6. We Want The Invisible Walls That Separate By Wealth, Race & Class To Be Torn Down.

7. We Want To Think Our Own Thoughts.

8. We Will Be Responsible For Our Environment.

9. We Want Clarity & Truth From Our Elected Officials Or They Should Move Aside.

10. We Want Love Not Lies.

11. We Want An End To All Wars. Foreign & Domestic (Violence).

12. We Want An End To The Processed Culture Of Exploitation, Over-Consumption & Waste.

13. We Want Knowledge, Understanding & Peace.

14. WE WILL NOT LOSE BECAUSE WE ARE NOT LOSERS, WE ARE LASERS!!!

Lasers are the opposite of losers. Lasers are shining beams of light that burn through the darkness of ignorance. Lasers shed light on injustice and inequality. Losers stand by and let things happen. Lasers act and shape their own destinies. Lasers find meaning and direction in the mysteries all around them. Lasers stand for love and compassion. Lasers stand for peace. Lasers stand for progression. Lasers are revolutionary.

Lasers Are The Future.

So okay, there are some problems in here, least of which being the whole losers/lasers play, but how messed up is it that anyone should feel like these are things that need to be demanded?  I, for one, am down, Lupe Fiasco.  Laser or not, these are things worth fighting for.

TRUE LIFE: If Drumline Is On, I'm Watching It.

When I was in high school I did a lot of music - I sang in the choir and I had a hilarious attempt at french horn.  I also got it in my head that I wanted to be a drum major, so our director, Mr. Cain, told me if I went to George Parks' Drum Major Academy, I could be the drum major.  Never one to back down from the challenge, I went, and loved it.  I didn't get to use all of what I learned because we were basically a concert band occasionally forced to march in parades at a small high school with no football team.  Regardless, it was awesome and I had a lot of fun drum majoring around and occasionally producing column turns like you see to the left here.  I met a lot of terrific people at Drum Major Academy, too, many of whom allowed me to write field shows for and guest conduct with them.  Bless those dear souls for putting up with my chronic 2-beat hitch and inflicting it on their bands.

Many of us talked about joining a Drum Corps International crew and going off to mobile percussion our faces off before going to college; for the vast majority of us that was a total pipe dream (warning: do not click above link if you do not want your face rocked off) but it was cool to think about.  This led to me watching a lot of drumline and marching band videos, so needless to say I was thrilled when the movie Drumline came out and went to see it with a bunch of my fellow drum majors.  (You have no idea the depths of dorkiness to which I can sink, my friends.)  It ruled, and if you wrote it off as a Black People Movie For Black People, which is kind of how it was marketed, which sucks, you should check it out the next time it's on TV.

Shit yeah.

Lady Gaga and the Dangers of Equality

Everyone's high school experience is different. I never really felt the extreme pressure to fit in that movies and TV tell us we should have. I think it's partly because my parents taught all of us to be ourselves and to not worry too much about other people's petty opinions, and partly because my high school was a great one whose student body was generally accepting and positive. None of this is to say that I never yearned for some thing that would let me fit in better or that I never questioned myself because my decisions didn't match the majority of my classmates. I also measured myself up against the magazines I read, because they promised to speak to some universal girliness. As with most people, the older I got, the more I realized the pointlessness of trying to be like everyone else, particularly at the expense of things I actually liked.

We tend to think of politics as a hobby and not as something that involves us all equally and requires our attendance. Your level of participation is variable, but we're all involved in politics because it sets the parameters within which we live our everyday lives. In America, we have a particularly dangerous political system because it empowers all of us, and this requires that even more attention be paid in order to hold up the greatest possibilities of the system and quash the hazards. We learn the Declaration of Independence early in our lives; we learn that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. Americans cling fiercely to their equality, but it is frequently taken to mean that even nature must endow us equally, and that is unrealistic. It's also the kind of hyperequal state of mind that leaves us with only majority opinion to guide us, and while that has some legitimacy in politics, it's damaging in society at large. We understand that the majority is to be conformed to - whether or not we decide to do so is our choice, but there is significant large-scale pressure pushing us towards majority social rule. This is why we have cross-generational types. Cheerleaders do this. Nerds do that. Punks do another thing. Each type tends to fit a mold because it's what is expected by the majority. It's given us an emotional and social shorthand for understanding human relationships. I believe this is to our immense detriment, because a lack of pressure to understand each individual qua that individual leads us to lose our ability to do so.

I think fashion is important for many reasons, but mostly because it is a way to show our personalities and to show what we think is important. When it's done thoughtfully, it can remind us of and comment on our pop cultural traditions and make us think about what they mean.

And that's why I nearly peed my pants when Lady Gaga showed up on the red carpet dressed like the Soviet space program.

Lady Gaga at the Grammys (Image from Getty, via Jezebel)

I love Lady Gaga, and I love her for many, many reasons, not all of which are explainable, but chief amongst these is her declaration that she is a performance artist and the zest with which she sets about living up to that name. She takes insane risks, not only with fashion or politics (she is an outspoken activist for many causes, not least gay rights), but with her principal source of fame, her music. When she showed up on American Idol, a glorified karaoke show, watched by people who enjoy hearing reasonably competent karaoke, and completely broke down and restructured her biggest current hit, "Poker Face," she risked weirding out a major section of her audience, but she did it anyway. That takes serious balls. I just love that she's willing to play with every social norm she can get her little monster hands on, and I think it's possibly the healthiest social experiment that has come along in ages. She's talented, but focuses on an often-disposable genre. She's pretty, but she's not classically beautiful, and she changes her look so often with glasses and makeup it hardly matters. She has a great body but her fashion choices dramatically shift the shape of her body (see exhibit C, the Snow Miser outfit she rocked after this one).

Maybe it's a stretch to say that Lady Gaga could be great for a healthy American democracy, but I hope that people can take cues from her and experiment with the way things are, have been and should be. Dispelling some of our long held stereotypes and rickety beliefs could go a long way towards restoring our ability to discuss the state of America productively and clearly.

And that's why I'm proud to hold my little monster hand high.

High Church

Last night, I sang the Easter Vigil with the Assumption Festival Choir, and this year's service was particularly significant because it was presided over by Cardinal Francis Arinze, who is a very interesting man with whom I disagree on several issues. It seemed like a no-brainer to join the Festival Choir for this event because not only was the music absolutely gorgeous, but when a Cardinal comes to your school, I think you go to see them. Regardless of my personal religious beliefs, I have great respect for anyone who has dedicated their life to the study of theology and ultimately to faith. Doing so denotes a certain selflessness, because the person must make a concious decision to spend their life defending and explaining a discipline that cannot offer much in the way of physical, unquestionable proof and is eternally under fire. Since we cannot shake hands with God, the last step in religious study will always be a leap of faith, and I think to dedicate your life to defending something that relies on that faith takes some pretty serious balls.

In any case, the Chapel looked gorgeous; the Brother who handles the decor really works with the simple lines of the Chapel at all times, but he really outdid himself for this service. It was all beautiful spring flowers (glory hallelujah, spring might actually be here for real!) and draped fabric. The effect was really powerful, though I would have limited all the fabric to one color. The service was really well suited to reflection upon the spirit of the season - renewal, rebirth, Jesus, etc. I think that even non-Catholics can likely get behind the spirit of Lent and Easter, if you take the Jesus bits out of it...they're dedicated first to improving yourself and then to moving forward anew. I like that Catholicism does emphasize those areas, and at least at Assumption, it was encouraged outside of the pretext of crushing guilt excessive focus on sin. It doesn't get left wholly out of the equation, but it's not as dominant as it seems to be in other congregations.

The service was...epic. As we know, I am not Catholic, so "Easter Vigil" does not trigger any kinds of warnings about schedule-clearing or footwear advice. I had planned to meet Rich and our friend Joanne downtown afterwards, assuming I would get out at about the same time as the hockey game. Apparently as Rich and Joanne waited for my fool self after the game, the following conversation took place:

Joanne: Wait, did she say what this was?
Rich: No, some church thing, I never know what she's doing.
J: But are there going to be candles?
R: I...have no idea?
J: Oh my God. If it's the thing with the candles, it's gonna be two and a half hours.

It was two and a half hours.

It went really well...the sound was simply amazing and the service was beautifully planned. Needless to say, I don't get a whole lot of high church in my life, so it was really fascinating to see the formal whickety-whack and ceremony with the Cardinal presiding. Cardinal Arinze stopped at the end of the Vigil to say that he was very impressed with the spirit of prayerfulness in the Vigil. He also mentioned the choir specifically - he said he'd heard before coming to Assumption that we sang really well and that now having heard us, he had to agree. Pretty high praise when you figure the guy's home office is the Vatican and he probably hears a lot of really high caliber choirs.

The one thing that took away slightly from the experience for me personally was a section of the Cardinal's homily where he was talking about the Nicene Creed and the parts of it. He pointed out that Catholics declare their belief in "the Catholic Church...the true church...the church that Jesus founded, and gave to Peter, that has been around for 2000 years, not some church that was made up yesterday." Now, of course Catholics pledge this - it's their Church, and they should believe in it to that depth - but it seemed a little unnecessary to throw in the "not some church that was made up yesterday" phrase. It's inherent in the first part of the passage, restating it just makes it more aggressive than need be. I don't begrudge him the view, and obviously I'm more sensitive to it.

I joined Chapel Choir with some concerns over how I would be recieved as a Protestant - particularly one of a stripe that not too many people know about - and since joining I have felt one hundred percent welcome and accepted in the Assumption College Chapel. I was just kind of disappointed in that one dull spot of the Easter Vigil, because it marked the first and only time I've ever felt even the tiniest bit unwelcome in the community, and it came at a true high point in my musical life. I will note that I walked out of the church and shook hands with all the priests who I have gotten to know and they were exactly as warm and friendly as they always are, and that salvaged that brief dip in good feeling. Assumption really has something special.

End-of-Year Miscellany

First of all, I apologize for the dearth of Cannonball Read updates...I've been so busy with school that while the actual reading is possible ("Study break!"), it's been hard to find time to write about them. I want this project to be productive and informative, so I don't want to just throw something up all "Neat book. High five."...I want to examine them and let you know why they are good or bad or interesting or what. Now, at this point, I'm about six books ahead of my blogging, so I'm probably going to regret having to catch up, but I just wanted to note that I have not yet begun to fight, etc., etc., etc., oh except finals and yluuuurgh. So. Back to your regularly scheduled nerdery in a week or two. I plan to really read my ass off over break, that is UNTIL I GO DOWN TO DC FOR THE INAUGURATION in which case I will probably be too drunk and/or hopped up (on life, God, get your mind out of the rehab center) to focus on things like books.

Secondly, I sang my first Lessons & Carols concert with the Assumption College Chapel Choir last night and it was freaking great. It's an advent service, which means that...anyone? Anyone? That's right, it means you get to sing the AWESOME music, like my personal favorite, the Hallelujah Chorus. I wore my pretty green dress with a white bow at the waist with tails that go all the way down to the floor, and a white pashmina over it. I am such a dork about getting dressed up, so I totally loved all of this. We processed in singing O Come O Come Emmanuel, and then we alternated readings about Jesus' birth with songs. It was very nice, and we sounded GREAT. We closed with O Come All Ye Faithful, and man, that sounds so great, particularly at the end when you get the organ all let out of its cage like WHOMMMMM WHOMMM WHOMMMM with the floor shaking and everyone rocking it out. It has been so good getting back into singing, and without blowing smoke, the director of Chapel Choir and my new voice coach, Jane, is freaking phenomenal. Even after just my short time with her, I see more potential in my voice than I ever have, and lest we forget - I'm pretty full of myself generally, and was even more so in connection to my singing in high school. I have always had a good voice but with Jane's help I think it could be great. Cool as hell.

Finally, my last day of classes was yesterday, so now I'm all depressed and shit. I am particularly sad about Terrorism being over...I realize that sounds kind of creepy and alarming, but that class was so good and I kind of wish it would just go on forever. Luckily, I have Nationalism & Fascism to look forward to! (Do not let your children be political science majors.) The professor was really sweet on the last day, saying that if and when he taught the course again, he wouldn't change the format much (which is unusual for a new course), but regardless of any changes, it would be unlikely that he would "get a group of thirty students like you guys." Awww. I HATE the last day of classes. UGH. Just a couple exams left to go...Philosophy of Nature tomorrow, followed by Italian on SATURDAY which should be ILLEGAL. I also have a paper due on Saturday, then another one on Wednesday, and the Terrorism exam on Monday. Then, six whole weeks of no class. Bleargh!

Back to more posting soon.