Summary
I went with my family to the annual Flowertown Festival on April 5, 2008, where I bore witness to the masterfully crafted products of artisans from all over the South. There were also a wide variety of vendors that offered an exclusive taste of Charleston.
When I arrived at the festival at ten o’clock, the first thing I searched for was the booth that sold meal tickets that could be redeemed at any of the miniature restaurant representations that were all locally situated. The carnival was the first attraction that caught everyone’s attention, but I just kept on walking through the hustle-bustle crowd. I noticed that the number of people who attended this event was larger than usual. For the most part I couldn’t make two steps without employing some adept subterfuge. What immediately stood out as I roamed the grounds was that the azaleas were nowhere to be seen, which was an ironic fact, considering the heavy turnout. During my visit I took advantage of the easily accessibly food lined up and down the street. I dabbled in many ethnic foods, like Asian and Greek.
To cap off the day’s events, I journeyed to the center of the Flowertown Festival, where people of every imaginable trade congregated to showcase their creative inventions. There was a lot of handmade jewelry, weaved baskets, and paintings of majestic landscapes. As I expected, the prices on these eclectic items were exceedingly high. At around two o’clock, I decided to leave the festivities before the place became overrun with pedestrians.
Critique
At first, I was impressed with the depth of the culinary exhibit and the meticulous organization of the artists and artisans. But in retrospect, I feel like I was compelled to rate everything higher that it should have been. There wasn't anything particularly healthy on the menu; I felt bombarded by sickly entrees like bloomin' onions and funnel cakes. Also the artisans were a little less friendly and outgoing than what was expected of them. How could they expect customers to purchase their works if nobody sells the value of the art?
The absence of the azaleas was a blatantly conspicious detail that nagged in the back of my head all day. I imagined the disappointment in all those people who journeyed to Summerville to witness the much-hyped, primed flowers. Without those usually luminescent plants in the background, it seemed like everything else, from the concessions to the displays, paled in comparison.
The most enlightening moment during my stroll through the Flowertown Festival was when I met this elderly man who possessed the most beautiful collection of welded objects that I had ever seen. Some were in the shape of zoo animals, while others were indistinguishable abstract shapes. I was very impressed with the man's catalogue and was almost convinced to buy one, but I was short on cash. This highlight more than compensated for the lack of fireworks everywhere else at the event.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Cultural Event #2 - Fort Dorchester Talent Show
Summary
On Friday, April 4, 2008, I attended the Talent Show at Fort Dorchester High School. It was an in-school event held at the gymnasium that showcased nearly a dozen myriad musical acts. The show was hosted by a charismatic DJ who took the microphone at certain intervals to pump up the crowd. There were also a number of faux celebrity presenters who attempted to announce each act amidst all the incessant noise. The affair was capped by an impromptu address notifying the audience of the winners nominated by the panel of judges.
The Talent Show opened with a performance by a male step team, which conspicuously featured a white guy. This was followed by a female step team; their routine was more elaborate and longer. Then one of the showcase acts, Shooting Shiloh, took the stage. Jerry Jacobs had singing and keyboard duties. They performed a brief romantic ballad, which segued into a rock-oriented version of Usher’s “Yeah,” which allowed Jerry to flesh out his white-boy rap skills. After that band’s bombastic performance, an onslaught of hip-hop-themed dance acts marched out to the stage. Each of them was received with riotous acclaim from the black portion of the student audience, while achieving a noticeably cold reception by the white students. In between the innumerable rap interpretations, other acts who had mustered up the courage to perform displayed their varied musical talents. A rock band did a technically proficient but impassive, with exception to the drummer, rendition of Metallica’s “One.” Out of nowhere, the spotlight was shone on flamenco music when a student wielded an acoustic guitar to play an intricate, instrumental number that was ill-suited to the raucous crowd. There were also girls willing to display their singing prowess during the show. Their songs were characteristically romantic ballads that struggled to capture the attention of the audience.
The talent show ended with yet another overblown dance routine, which ended abruptly. This allowed the DJ to announce the winners. His words fell on deaf ears, though, as students had already begun to file out of the school.
Critique
The Fort Dorchester Talent Show underwhelmed me on all accounts. It pounded me into submission with its monotonous and jumbled cacophony. On the most part, it seemed that the show’s list of performers was specifically catered to appeal to the hip-hop-loving crowd, who responded vivaciously to every pop music reference. Personally, the lack of variety and originality left me numb and blasé; I was left feeling more disappointed than my feeble expectations had prepared me for.
The event began with an impromptu dance performance by the male step team. They did a mix of a capella and music-accompanied steps. This act set the template for many more performances to come. Though these step performances appeared technically proficient, they came off as showboating operations designed to win over a crowd eager for in-your-face visual spectacles. Many of the talents showcased delved into the same genre. I could have just turned on MTV and gotten the same entertainment, except cheaper and with better clarity.
The most disappointing aspect of the over-hyped talent show was the acoustics of the venue. Held in the auditorium, where the cavernous ceiling made it nearly impossible for a performer to project any subtlety or atmosphere whatsoever, I felt sympathetic towards those who tried to connect intimately with the crowd while slightly resentful towards those who exploited the opportunity to revel in unchecked mediocrity. One girl tried to do a coffeehouse-style acoustic number, but was drowned out by the poor sound setup and an indifferent audience. The acts that bravely tried to differ from the predetermined ringtone-rap theme were dismissed as bland and unworthy of the crowd’s attention, which vexed me terribly.
Overall, I could have been spared the over-the-top theatrics, one-note setlist, and dispassionate aura. I felt like this whole show was cunningly designed to exploit a ridiculous fad in entertainment today, that is, a fascination with the mass-produced, degenerative rap genre.
On Friday, April 4, 2008, I attended the Talent Show at Fort Dorchester High School. It was an in-school event held at the gymnasium that showcased nearly a dozen myriad musical acts. The show was hosted by a charismatic DJ who took the microphone at certain intervals to pump up the crowd. There were also a number of faux celebrity presenters who attempted to announce each act amidst all the incessant noise. The affair was capped by an impromptu address notifying the audience of the winners nominated by the panel of judges.
The Talent Show opened with a performance by a male step team, which conspicuously featured a white guy. This was followed by a female step team; their routine was more elaborate and longer. Then one of the showcase acts, Shooting Shiloh, took the stage. Jerry Jacobs had singing and keyboard duties. They performed a brief romantic ballad, which segued into a rock-oriented version of Usher’s “Yeah,” which allowed Jerry to flesh out his white-boy rap skills. After that band’s bombastic performance, an onslaught of hip-hop-themed dance acts marched out to the stage. Each of them was received with riotous acclaim from the black portion of the student audience, while achieving a noticeably cold reception by the white students. In between the innumerable rap interpretations, other acts who had mustered up the courage to perform displayed their varied musical talents. A rock band did a technically proficient but impassive, with exception to the drummer, rendition of Metallica’s “One.” Out of nowhere, the spotlight was shone on flamenco music when a student wielded an acoustic guitar to play an intricate, instrumental number that was ill-suited to the raucous crowd. There were also girls willing to display their singing prowess during the show. Their songs were characteristically romantic ballads that struggled to capture the attention of the audience.
The talent show ended with yet another overblown dance routine, which ended abruptly. This allowed the DJ to announce the winners. His words fell on deaf ears, though, as students had already begun to file out of the school.
Critique
The Fort Dorchester Talent Show underwhelmed me on all accounts. It pounded me into submission with its monotonous and jumbled cacophony. On the most part, it seemed that the show’s list of performers was specifically catered to appeal to the hip-hop-loving crowd, who responded vivaciously to every pop music reference. Personally, the lack of variety and originality left me numb and blasé; I was left feeling more disappointed than my feeble expectations had prepared me for.
The event began with an impromptu dance performance by the male step team. They did a mix of a capella and music-accompanied steps. This act set the template for many more performances to come. Though these step performances appeared technically proficient, they came off as showboating operations designed to win over a crowd eager for in-your-face visual spectacles. Many of the talents showcased delved into the same genre. I could have just turned on MTV and gotten the same entertainment, except cheaper and with better clarity.
The most disappointing aspect of the over-hyped talent show was the acoustics of the venue. Held in the auditorium, where the cavernous ceiling made it nearly impossible for a performer to project any subtlety or atmosphere whatsoever, I felt sympathetic towards those who tried to connect intimately with the crowd while slightly resentful towards those who exploited the opportunity to revel in unchecked mediocrity. One girl tried to do a coffeehouse-style acoustic number, but was drowned out by the poor sound setup and an indifferent audience. The acts that bravely tried to differ from the predetermined ringtone-rap theme were dismissed as bland and unworthy of the crowd’s attention, which vexed me terribly.
Overall, I could have been spared the over-the-top theatrics, one-note setlist, and dispassionate aura. I felt like this whole show was cunningly designed to exploit a ridiculous fad in entertainment today, that is, a fascination with the mass-produced, degenerative rap genre.
Cultural Event #1 - Once Upon a Mattress play
Summary
On February 27, 2008, I attended the play Once Upon a Mattress, put on by the drama students at Fort Dorchester High School. It began at 8:30 a.m. and ended at about 11:00 a.m. The play is a musical comedy based off the fairy tale The Princess and the Pea. It is set in a medieval kingdom where everyone aspires to marry off the prince because law forbids any wedlock beforehand.
The show opens with a spoken/sung prologue by the Minstrel, setting the stage for the search for a true princess that dominates the play’s storyline. The action begins in what is presumably the royal court. The heads of the kingdom, King Sextimus and Queen Aggravain, are presiding over a series of tests to decide who is the most worthy princess to marry their son, Prince Dauntless. The audience is told that King Sextimus is tormented by a curse that forces him to be silent until “the mouse devours the hawk.” With his disability, the Queen has abused her powers and gone out of her way to keep Prince Dauntless from being married. As the latest princess to face the impossibly high standards of Queen Aggravain, all of the knights and ladies in waiting watch anxiously, for their fates are indelibly tied to the Prince’s. A law rules over the land stating that no one may wed until the prince finds a suitable bride. Unable to answer the final convoluted question given to her by the Queen, the twelfth prospective princess is dismissed. Everyone in the court then breaks into song, lamenting the rejection of yet another princess, which in turn has denied the happiness of all the future newlyweds.
The play then introduces a subplot involving Sir Harry, the most valiant knight of the land, and his girlfriend, Lady Larkin. She breaks the unfortunate news that she has become pregnant, much to the shock of Harry. This is unfortunate news because of the extenuating circumstances involving Prince Dauntless’s fruitless wife hunt. Forced to take bold action, Sir Harry pledges to his beloved to find the last princess in the realm and put an end to all their woes. After a while, he returns with an unconventional but suitable choice, Princess Winifred the Woebegone. She astounds the staunchly traditional queen with her eccentric mannerisms, audacious character, and colorful song-and-dance routines. She hails from the marshlands, where she appeared to have developed her athletic prowess, evidenced by her impressive feat of swimming the moat during her entrance into the kingdom. Prince Dauntless immediately takes a liking to her, as do the rest of the royal house, except Queen Aggravain. She stubbornly refuses to acknowledge any room in her son’s life for a mate. In adhering to her overbearing manner, she devises a scheme to deny Princess Winnifred of Dauntless’s hand in marriage. The queen and her loyal sidekick, the Wizard, come up with a secret test. Before Winnifred goes to bed, they place a pea underneath twenty mattresses. If the princess is unable to sleep because of discomfort, then she will be sensitive enough to marry Prince Dauntless.
On the day of the test, Dauntless and Winnifred fall head over heels in love. Sir Harry and Lady Larkin reach a rough spot in their relationship, only to have it resolved by the sincere charm of Princess Winnifred. Numerous slow ballads are played to emphasize the romantic feeling in the air. King Sextimus, wary of the queen’s cunning plans, enlists the aid of the Minstrel and the Jester to help discover the true test set up for Winnifred. They confront the conceited Wizard, who they are able to flatter enough so that he divulges the blueprint for the princess and the pea evaluation. When Princess Winnifred finally lies down on the twenty mattresses, Queen Aggravain intrudes. In order to help Winnifred sleep easier, and in turn fail the test, the queen sets up a nightengale’s cage in the room to help lure the princess to slumber. Instead, the plan backfires; Winnifred couldn’t get any shuteye because of the godforsaken bird’s shrieking. The following morning, the flabbergasted queen sees the princess still awake. Still, she denies that Winnifred is a true princess. Angered and frustrated by his mother’s circumlocution, Prince Dauntless tells Queen Aggravain to shut up. This fulfills the prophecy that restores speech to King Sextimus, for Dauntless was the “mouse” that devoured the queen, “the hawk.” As payback for ruling as a tyrant, Queen Aggravain loses her own tongue. Everyone in the kingdom, realizing that the chains on matrimony have been lifted, rejoice in a celebratory finale.
Critique
Once Upon a Mattress was a deftly handled play, containing all sorts of humor within the context of the script, a lot of which was hit or miss. Most of the musical numbers were energetic and had deftly satirical undertones. Although some of the performances were a bit hammy and histrionic, the whole event was so light-hearted that the audience hardly even noticed. The set pieces were expertly crafted, which helped lend a sense of realism to the atmosphere. Overall, I enjoyed the play, even though it seemed the acting couldn’t match up to the music.
What I found most glaringly obvious during the play was that many of the actors’ deliveries were stilted and/or pretentious. Natural emotions were few and far between. It was almost as If the troupe had practiced for so long that they weren’t able to inject any fresh vitality into the script. The most grating performance by far was the portrayal of Queen Aggravain by Ashley West. The entire performance was one-note; the idea of a multi-faceted character was thrown out of the window. One acting job that wasn’t entirely botched was Anthony Massarotto’s portrayal of Prince Dauntless. By behaving with impulsive abandon and confidence, he came off less like a self-conscious android and more like a vibrant tour-de-force.
The music was the backbone of the play that kept the wooden acting from boring the life of the audience. Many of the songs were irresistibly catchy and infected with humor. The dance numbers were pulled off impeccably, with nary a hitch. The instrumentation during the musical was essential to the fluidity of the music; flawless percussion seemed to be synchronized with the dancers’ movements.
I discovered a true affinity for high school productions with this musical. However many flaws there were, they didn’t detract from the playful energy that mesmerized the audience. The only thing that really annoyed me was the mental bird that kept croaking for what seemed like eternity; it was a running gag that was barely funny the first time.
On February 27, 2008, I attended the play Once Upon a Mattress, put on by the drama students at Fort Dorchester High School. It began at 8:30 a.m. and ended at about 11:00 a.m. The play is a musical comedy based off the fairy tale The Princess and the Pea. It is set in a medieval kingdom where everyone aspires to marry off the prince because law forbids any wedlock beforehand.
The show opens with a spoken/sung prologue by the Minstrel, setting the stage for the search for a true princess that dominates the play’s storyline. The action begins in what is presumably the royal court. The heads of the kingdom, King Sextimus and Queen Aggravain, are presiding over a series of tests to decide who is the most worthy princess to marry their son, Prince Dauntless. The audience is told that King Sextimus is tormented by a curse that forces him to be silent until “the mouse devours the hawk.” With his disability, the Queen has abused her powers and gone out of her way to keep Prince Dauntless from being married. As the latest princess to face the impossibly high standards of Queen Aggravain, all of the knights and ladies in waiting watch anxiously, for their fates are indelibly tied to the Prince’s. A law rules over the land stating that no one may wed until the prince finds a suitable bride. Unable to answer the final convoluted question given to her by the Queen, the twelfth prospective princess is dismissed. Everyone in the court then breaks into song, lamenting the rejection of yet another princess, which in turn has denied the happiness of all the future newlyweds.
The play then introduces a subplot involving Sir Harry, the most valiant knight of the land, and his girlfriend, Lady Larkin. She breaks the unfortunate news that she has become pregnant, much to the shock of Harry. This is unfortunate news because of the extenuating circumstances involving Prince Dauntless’s fruitless wife hunt. Forced to take bold action, Sir Harry pledges to his beloved to find the last princess in the realm and put an end to all their woes. After a while, he returns with an unconventional but suitable choice, Princess Winifred the Woebegone. She astounds the staunchly traditional queen with her eccentric mannerisms, audacious character, and colorful song-and-dance routines. She hails from the marshlands, where she appeared to have developed her athletic prowess, evidenced by her impressive feat of swimming the moat during her entrance into the kingdom. Prince Dauntless immediately takes a liking to her, as do the rest of the royal house, except Queen Aggravain. She stubbornly refuses to acknowledge any room in her son’s life for a mate. In adhering to her overbearing manner, she devises a scheme to deny Princess Winnifred of Dauntless’s hand in marriage. The queen and her loyal sidekick, the Wizard, come up with a secret test. Before Winnifred goes to bed, they place a pea underneath twenty mattresses. If the princess is unable to sleep because of discomfort, then she will be sensitive enough to marry Prince Dauntless.
On the day of the test, Dauntless and Winnifred fall head over heels in love. Sir Harry and Lady Larkin reach a rough spot in their relationship, only to have it resolved by the sincere charm of Princess Winnifred. Numerous slow ballads are played to emphasize the romantic feeling in the air. King Sextimus, wary of the queen’s cunning plans, enlists the aid of the Minstrel and the Jester to help discover the true test set up for Winnifred. They confront the conceited Wizard, who they are able to flatter enough so that he divulges the blueprint for the princess and the pea evaluation. When Princess Winnifred finally lies down on the twenty mattresses, Queen Aggravain intrudes. In order to help Winnifred sleep easier, and in turn fail the test, the queen sets up a nightengale’s cage in the room to help lure the princess to slumber. Instead, the plan backfires; Winnifred couldn’t get any shuteye because of the godforsaken bird’s shrieking. The following morning, the flabbergasted queen sees the princess still awake. Still, she denies that Winnifred is a true princess. Angered and frustrated by his mother’s circumlocution, Prince Dauntless tells Queen Aggravain to shut up. This fulfills the prophecy that restores speech to King Sextimus, for Dauntless was the “mouse” that devoured the queen, “the hawk.” As payback for ruling as a tyrant, Queen Aggravain loses her own tongue. Everyone in the kingdom, realizing that the chains on matrimony have been lifted, rejoice in a celebratory finale.
Critique
Once Upon a Mattress was a deftly handled play, containing all sorts of humor within the context of the script, a lot of which was hit or miss. Most of the musical numbers were energetic and had deftly satirical undertones. Although some of the performances were a bit hammy and histrionic, the whole event was so light-hearted that the audience hardly even noticed. The set pieces were expertly crafted, which helped lend a sense of realism to the atmosphere. Overall, I enjoyed the play, even though it seemed the acting couldn’t match up to the music.
What I found most glaringly obvious during the play was that many of the actors’ deliveries were stilted and/or pretentious. Natural emotions were few and far between. It was almost as If the troupe had practiced for so long that they weren’t able to inject any fresh vitality into the script. The most grating performance by far was the portrayal of Queen Aggravain by Ashley West. The entire performance was one-note; the idea of a multi-faceted character was thrown out of the window. One acting job that wasn’t entirely botched was Anthony Massarotto’s portrayal of Prince Dauntless. By behaving with impulsive abandon and confidence, he came off less like a self-conscious android and more like a vibrant tour-de-force.
The music was the backbone of the play that kept the wooden acting from boring the life of the audience. Many of the songs were irresistibly catchy and infected with humor. The dance numbers were pulled off impeccably, with nary a hitch. The instrumentation during the musical was essential to the fluidity of the music; flawless percussion seemed to be synchronized with the dancers’ movements.
I discovered a true affinity for high school productions with this musical. However many flaws there were, they didn’t detract from the playful energy that mesmerized the audience. The only thing that really annoyed me was the mental bird that kept croaking for what seemed like eternity; it was a running gag that was barely funny the first time.
Song Analysis #4 - "A Time To Be So Small"
“A Time To Be So Small” is a song by Interpol, a post-punk rock band from New York City. The lyrics dominantly pertain to an irresolvable conflict between a father and a son. The story is told abstractly from a third-person point of view; the narrators are figuratively referred to as observant underwater creatures. Much of their musings are directed toward the father. The parent longs to shield his child from the alluring dangers of life, while the rebellious son is anxious to break from paternal protection and explore. He hopelessly despairs as he watches his son’s innocence melt away. The message of the song is that a parent cannot always be there as a moral compass for their child; only with experience and exposure to the harsh realities of life can the child truly be satisfied.
This song is filled with ambiguous figurative language that describes the complicated relationship between father and son. Many of the words are in a broad and philosophical nature. The two central characters’ journey through life is embodied by travel on a boat. The translucent, narrative third party remarks, “We saw you making knots, we saw you get the rope.” This metaphor alludes to the father, who is the captain charged with making sure everything runs smoothly. But despite all his meticulous preparation and management, his son clearly has intentions to disturb the tranquil balance of their existence. When the boy finally matures enough to gain access to the “deck” of adulthood, the father is rattled by his son’s aggressive demand to be free. The father’s erosion of the influence over his offspring is referred to as “the bubble of your interest ready to burst.” He is clearly distraught over his son’s interest in the forbidden fruit of life. The father is described as “a sleeping, slow despair,” characterizing him as the epitome of sadness. The son expresses disillusionment about his outdated father, who once was preserved as an image of immaculate perfection in the son’s eyes. Thus, the father recognizes his limitations as a form of influence. The narrative party, in seeing this situation, addresses the father’s despondency, “A creature is a creature, though you wish you were the wind.” This is a sort of reverse personification; instead of nature obtaining human-like qualities, the man desires to transcend his bodily cage and gain omniscient power, only to have more ability to ward off the horrors that his son associates with.
The title of the song, “A Time To Be So Small,” does a exemplary job of encompassing all of the adverse forces working against the poor father. The bond between the father and his son strains instead of getting stronger over time. As the son grows up, his father’s weaknesses are revealed to him when before nothing could desecrate their familial love. The son, indignant at having been shielded for so long, flies the coop. The narrators refer to him as having “a keen eye for what you (the father) used to be.” This leaves the father to lament the folly of his overbearing guardianship. The attractive vices that the father tried to hide for so long, in a twist of irony, steal away the love of the son. This makes the father feel smaller than what he ever could have conceived.
The tone of the song undergoes a significant change during the account of father versus son. At first, complacency and peace emanate from the lyrics. But foreshadowing to what is to come is evident when the boy is “appearing on the deck and making it lurch.” The son rocks the boat as soon as he gets the chance; this does not bode for the father’s chances to save his son’s soul. The father works tediously to preserve his son’s naiveté and innocence, but these efforts are to no avail. The observant narrators predict, “The boat will not stop moving if you tie him up until the end.” Even if the father made it his crusade to hide the wanton aspects of life from his son, the infiltrative agent of time would reveal them. Towards the end of the song, the tone shifts from anguish and despair to mourning over the father’s loss. The son strays from the path of goodness, and the father is compelled to forsake him. The son has reached the point of no return, evidenced by the presence of “the cadaverous mob”, who “saves its doors for the dead men. He has dirtied his soul so much that there is no chance of redemption.
The father, a tragic hero who receives blow after blow to his heart, goes to great lengths to teach his son between right and wrong, but to no avail. He could not accept that it was not up to him to dictate how his son’s life should be led. In the end, it was a tragedy that could not be overturned. Fatherly guidance proved no match for the temptations of sin. This song preaches that the path to hell attracts those who disregard the advice of caring parents and refuse to recognize the perverseness of their own ways.
Lyrics
We saw you from the urchins’ side, from under the boat / We saw you making knots, we saw you get the rope / The boy appearing on the deck and making it lurch / And the bubble of your interest ready to burst
He whistles and he runs
We saw you in distraction: a sleeping, slow despair / Rehearsing interaction, he wasn't even there/ A creature is a creature, Though you wish you were the wind / The boat will not stop moving if you tie him up until the end
He whistles and he runs so hold him fast / Breathe the burn, you want to let it last / He might succumb to what you haven't seen/ He has a keen eye for what you used to be/ When the cadaverous mob saves its doors for the dead men/ You cannot leave x3
This song is filled with ambiguous figurative language that describes the complicated relationship between father and son. Many of the words are in a broad and philosophical nature. The two central characters’ journey through life is embodied by travel on a boat. The translucent, narrative third party remarks, “We saw you making knots, we saw you get the rope.” This metaphor alludes to the father, who is the captain charged with making sure everything runs smoothly. But despite all his meticulous preparation and management, his son clearly has intentions to disturb the tranquil balance of their existence. When the boy finally matures enough to gain access to the “deck” of adulthood, the father is rattled by his son’s aggressive demand to be free. The father’s erosion of the influence over his offspring is referred to as “the bubble of your interest ready to burst.” He is clearly distraught over his son’s interest in the forbidden fruit of life. The father is described as “a sleeping, slow despair,” characterizing him as the epitome of sadness. The son expresses disillusionment about his outdated father, who once was preserved as an image of immaculate perfection in the son’s eyes. Thus, the father recognizes his limitations as a form of influence. The narrative party, in seeing this situation, addresses the father’s despondency, “A creature is a creature, though you wish you were the wind.” This is a sort of reverse personification; instead of nature obtaining human-like qualities, the man desires to transcend his bodily cage and gain omniscient power, only to have more ability to ward off the horrors that his son associates with.
The title of the song, “A Time To Be So Small,” does a exemplary job of encompassing all of the adverse forces working against the poor father. The bond between the father and his son strains instead of getting stronger over time. As the son grows up, his father’s weaknesses are revealed to him when before nothing could desecrate their familial love. The son, indignant at having been shielded for so long, flies the coop. The narrators refer to him as having “a keen eye for what you (the father) used to be.” This leaves the father to lament the folly of his overbearing guardianship. The attractive vices that the father tried to hide for so long, in a twist of irony, steal away the love of the son. This makes the father feel smaller than what he ever could have conceived.
The tone of the song undergoes a significant change during the account of father versus son. At first, complacency and peace emanate from the lyrics. But foreshadowing to what is to come is evident when the boy is “appearing on the deck and making it lurch.” The son rocks the boat as soon as he gets the chance; this does not bode for the father’s chances to save his son’s soul. The father works tediously to preserve his son’s naiveté and innocence, but these efforts are to no avail. The observant narrators predict, “The boat will not stop moving if you tie him up until the end.” Even if the father made it his crusade to hide the wanton aspects of life from his son, the infiltrative agent of time would reveal them. Towards the end of the song, the tone shifts from anguish and despair to mourning over the father’s loss. The son strays from the path of goodness, and the father is compelled to forsake him. The son has reached the point of no return, evidenced by the presence of “the cadaverous mob”, who “saves its doors for the dead men. He has dirtied his soul so much that there is no chance of redemption.
The father, a tragic hero who receives blow after blow to his heart, goes to great lengths to teach his son between right and wrong, but to no avail. He could not accept that it was not up to him to dictate how his son’s life should be led. In the end, it was a tragedy that could not be overturned. Fatherly guidance proved no match for the temptations of sin. This song preaches that the path to hell attracts those who disregard the advice of caring parents and refuse to recognize the perverseness of their own ways.
Lyrics
We saw you from the urchins’ side, from under the boat / We saw you making knots, we saw you get the rope / The boy appearing on the deck and making it lurch / And the bubble of your interest ready to burst
He whistles and he runs
We saw you in distraction: a sleeping, slow despair / Rehearsing interaction, he wasn't even there/ A creature is a creature, Though you wish you were the wind / The boat will not stop moving if you tie him up until the end
He whistles and he runs so hold him fast / Breathe the burn, you want to let it last / He might succumb to what you haven't seen/ He has a keen eye for what you used to be/ When the cadaverous mob saves its doors for the dead men/ You cannot leave x3
Song Analysis #3 - "God's Away on Business"
“God’s Away on Business”
“God’s Away on Business” is a tune by American singer-songwriter Tom Waits. It is a bitter commentary on how society, and mankind in general, has degraded to such a despicable level. The singer delivers world-weary remarks about the absence of moral values that has led to the rise of greed and misanthropy. The resounding theme appears to be that God has forsaken man for wallowing in sin, and has abstained from intervening, viewing the earth’s perpetual state of entropy as irreversible.
In this song there is a plethora of literary devices meant to perceive the world through abstract means. Imagery is employed when Waits sings the refrain, “The ship is sinking.” This is meant to evoke a foreboding sense of dread. It relates to the decline in human nature, perhaps a harbinger of the point of no return. The singer refers to “the ones that we kept in charge” as “killers, thieves and lawyers. These labels are metaphors that represent the ruling government and its corrupt hierarchy. This harsh accusation does not specifically name the U.S. government, but there are certainly some people who could fit the bill, more or less. Another metaphor is utilized to symbolize the alluring temptation to do evil. Waits scathingly declares in an attempt at sarcasm, “There’s always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby.” This slogan implies that leading sinful lives has its consequences, but the deviant pleasures that go with them are more than worth it.
A deftly-placed allusion to Hamlet is also found in the lyrics of “God’s Away on Business.” During one of the verses the main character laments, “Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick, it’s a job.” This alludes to the graveyard scene in Hamlet when the two apathetic clowns calmly talk about death and mortality, having been numbed by their exposure to such subjects. These characters perfectly embody the attitude of the singer, who feels so forlorn and without hope. Any optimism he previously had for the future was blown away with the ashes of the dead by the wind.
The tone of the song begins as being palpably despondent beyond comprehension to becoming even more woebegone with no hope for salvation. Waits displays shockingly listless apathy for the wellbeing of his fellowman. A general urgency of ‘every man for himself’ permeates through every line. The singer has been disillusioned through experience; his faith in mankind and in himself has been shattered. Embodying this lack of morality is the singer’s cold condescension, “I’d sell your heart to the junkman, baby, for a buck.” Through these stinging remarks Waits tries to inject his pessimism into the mind of the listener. In the middle of the song he intones, “It’s all over, it’s all over,” to squash any remaining faith or optimism. One last stab at the dignity of mankind is released when the singer snarls, “I narrow my eyes like a coin slot, baby,” presumably toward the plight of any suffering human being. He is consumed with greed and repulsed by the thought of philanthropy, a most petty waste of time for someone like him.
“God’s Away on Business” is a medium for Tom Waits to mercilessly pass judgment on those who commit atrocious deeds. It seems that he has searched far and wide for a redeeming trait of humanity, and has come up empty. With the banality of evil and the lack of preventive measures, it appears that God has gone away on a business trip to shield his eyes from the depravity of his children.
Lyrics
I'd sell your heart to the junkman baby/ For a buck, for a buck / If you're looking for someone to pull you out of that ditch / You're out of luck, you're out of luck
Ship is sinking / The ship is sinking / The ship is sinking
Bridge
There's a leak, there's a leak in the boiler room / The poor, the lame, the blind / Who are the ones that we kept in charge? / Killers, thieves and lawyers
Chorus
God's away, God's away, God's away on business, business
God's away, God's away, God's away on business, business
Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick / It's a job, it's a job / Bloody moon rising with a plague and a flood / Join the mob, join the mob
It's all over, it's all over, It's all over
Bridge
Chorus
Godddamn there's always such a big temptation / To be good, to be good / There's always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby / It's a deal, it's a deal
Chorus
I narrow my eyes like a coin slot baby/Let her ring, let her ring
Chorus
“God’s Away on Business” is a tune by American singer-songwriter Tom Waits. It is a bitter commentary on how society, and mankind in general, has degraded to such a despicable level. The singer delivers world-weary remarks about the absence of moral values that has led to the rise of greed and misanthropy. The resounding theme appears to be that God has forsaken man for wallowing in sin, and has abstained from intervening, viewing the earth’s perpetual state of entropy as irreversible.
In this song there is a plethora of literary devices meant to perceive the world through abstract means. Imagery is employed when Waits sings the refrain, “The ship is sinking.” This is meant to evoke a foreboding sense of dread. It relates to the decline in human nature, perhaps a harbinger of the point of no return. The singer refers to “the ones that we kept in charge” as “killers, thieves and lawyers. These labels are metaphors that represent the ruling government and its corrupt hierarchy. This harsh accusation does not specifically name the U.S. government, but there are certainly some people who could fit the bill, more or less. Another metaphor is utilized to symbolize the alluring temptation to do evil. Waits scathingly declares in an attempt at sarcasm, “There’s always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby.” This slogan implies that leading sinful lives has its consequences, but the deviant pleasures that go with them are more than worth it.
A deftly-placed allusion to Hamlet is also found in the lyrics of “God’s Away on Business.” During one of the verses the main character laments, “Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick, it’s a job.” This alludes to the graveyard scene in Hamlet when the two apathetic clowns calmly talk about death and mortality, having been numbed by their exposure to such subjects. These characters perfectly embody the attitude of the singer, who feels so forlorn and without hope. Any optimism he previously had for the future was blown away with the ashes of the dead by the wind.
The tone of the song begins as being palpably despondent beyond comprehension to becoming even more woebegone with no hope for salvation. Waits displays shockingly listless apathy for the wellbeing of his fellowman. A general urgency of ‘every man for himself’ permeates through every line. The singer has been disillusioned through experience; his faith in mankind and in himself has been shattered. Embodying this lack of morality is the singer’s cold condescension, “I’d sell your heart to the junkman, baby, for a buck.” Through these stinging remarks Waits tries to inject his pessimism into the mind of the listener. In the middle of the song he intones, “It’s all over, it’s all over,” to squash any remaining faith or optimism. One last stab at the dignity of mankind is released when the singer snarls, “I narrow my eyes like a coin slot, baby,” presumably toward the plight of any suffering human being. He is consumed with greed and repulsed by the thought of philanthropy, a most petty waste of time for someone like him.
“God’s Away on Business” is a medium for Tom Waits to mercilessly pass judgment on those who commit atrocious deeds. It seems that he has searched far and wide for a redeeming trait of humanity, and has come up empty. With the banality of evil and the lack of preventive measures, it appears that God has gone away on a business trip to shield his eyes from the depravity of his children.
Lyrics
I'd sell your heart to the junkman baby/ For a buck, for a buck / If you're looking for someone to pull you out of that ditch / You're out of luck, you're out of luck
Ship is sinking / The ship is sinking / The ship is sinking
Bridge
There's a leak, there's a leak in the boiler room / The poor, the lame, the blind / Who are the ones that we kept in charge? / Killers, thieves and lawyers
Chorus
God's away, God's away, God's away on business, business
God's away, God's away, God's away on business, business
Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick / It's a job, it's a job / Bloody moon rising with a plague and a flood / Join the mob, join the mob
It's all over, it's all over, It's all over
Bridge
Chorus
Godddamn there's always such a big temptation / To be good, to be good / There's always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby / It's a deal, it's a deal
Chorus
I narrow my eyes like a coin slot baby/Let her ring, let her ring
Chorus
Song Analysis #2 - "Calm Like a Bomb"
“Calm Like a Bomb” is a song by Rage Against the Machine, a rock band based out of Los Angeles. The lyrics can be synopsized as an extensive diatribe on the decrepit state of American society. He issues a number of vitriolic criticisms pertaining to the irreparable treatment of the poor and unfortunate classes. The song acts as a rallying cry for the dispossessed to get behind and demand immediate change. The major theme that permeates this tune is that outrage at the dark history of America is justified and should precipitate a revolution to overthrow the tyrannical rule that has corrupted the country for so long.
Zack de la Rocha employs a whole arsenal of figurative language to help convey the furious indignation fueling through his lyrics. He boastingly opens the song with the proclamation, “I be walkin’ God like a dog.” This metaphor represents his belief that God should not be elevated as justification or divine support for governmental policies, like it has been done countless times in the past. Immediately he sets the record straight by condemning the fire-and-brimstone hypocrites that populate the world. While introducing himself, Zack boasts, “Yes, I spit fire.” This is a metaphor used to describe his censorious speech that is figuratively scorching with its shocking and indelible truths. Zack also uses plenty of allusions in “Calm Like a Bomb.” During the song, he comments, “Word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris.” He is alluding to the exploits of James Baldwin, a writer and civil rights advocate who returned to participate in the Civil Rights Movement in America after living in seclusion as an expatriate for years. Zack is likening his verbal attack to Baldwin’s during the mid-20th century.
The title serves as an adequate slogan that embodies all of the frenetic ideals that underlie this particular song. “Calm Like a Bomb” is a extreme oxymoron that is such a contradictory statement that it further persuades listeners to recognize the urgent conviction of the singer’s message and help empathize with the anger and frustration that is so interlaced with his stream of thought. It also has a very visceral impact with the comparison to a bomb, an explosive device capable of literally destroying everything in its path. But in this song, a positive connation is subtly lent to the bomb, which is less portrayed as a weapon of fear and more like a tool of the radicals who want to shake the foundations of the United States to its very core. Thus, being calm like a bomb is a natural side effect of the rebels who wield their agitprop like a sword of justice.
The tone of the song undergoes myriad changes as Zack de la Rocha vents his anger at the broken American system and searches for an answer amidst all the suffering. In the beginning, he makes inflammatory comments about the injustices committed to the poor and impoverished. He accuses the government of neglecting the people with insufficient care. Zack laments the “same bodies buried hungry, but with different last names,” referring to the ongoing inhumane treatment of American citizens who struggle to put food on the table every day. The incorrigible avarice of profiteers and capitalists are represented as “vultures robbin’ everything, leave nothing but chains.” These uncomfortable truths evoke feelings of indignation and sympathy towards the people who have been viewed with indifference for so long. Then the tone shifts from having resentful and furiously antagonistic undertones to containing an urgent demand for a better life and future. Zack foresees “America’s demise,” that is, the downfall of the current system of capitalism. He utters, “Hope lies in the smoldering rubbles of empires.” So with the occurrence of a massive revolution against a heartless government, a new, equal world order can be forged from the ashes, where all people are treated equally. Thus, the song ends on a more idealistic note, while at the same time reiterating the ongoing calamities.
In one encompassing song, Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine takes a obstinately one-sided look at all of the corrupt and immoral dealings that have been going on in America for a long time. According to him, the lower class’s right to live is being threatened by supercilious Corporate America, and if things do not change, then a revolt against the status quo can be expected and embraced.
Lyrics
feel the funk blast,feel the funk blast,FEEL THE FUNK BLAST,a yo-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo, check it out yo-yo-yo
I be walkin god like a dog My narrative fearless Word war returns to burn Like Baldwin home from Paris, Uh Like steel from a furnace I was born landless Yes its tha native son Born of Zapatas guns Stroll through the shanties And tha cities remains Same bodies buried hungry But with different last names The vultures robbin everything Leave nothing but chains Pick a point on the globe Yes tha pictures tha same
Theres a bank, theres a church, a myth and a hearse A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth Theres a widow pig parrot A rebel to tame A whitehooded judge A syringe and a vein And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What? (x4)Calm like a bomb
This aint subliminal Feel the critical mass approach horizon Tha pulse of the condemned Sound off Americas demise Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker Yes I spit fire Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains Same bodies buried hungry, uh-huh With different last names, uh-huh The vultures robbin everyone Leave nothing but chains Pick a point here at home Yes the pictures tha same
Theres a field full of slaves Some corn and some debt Theres a ditch full of bodies Tha check for the rent Theres a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone The numb black screen That be feelin like home And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What?(x4)Calm like a bomb
There's a mass without roofs There's a prison to fill There's a countrys soul that reads post no bills There's a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill There's a right to obey And a right to kill x2
Zack de la Rocha employs a whole arsenal of figurative language to help convey the furious indignation fueling through his lyrics. He boastingly opens the song with the proclamation, “I be walkin’ God like a dog.” This metaphor represents his belief that God should not be elevated as justification or divine support for governmental policies, like it has been done countless times in the past. Immediately he sets the record straight by condemning the fire-and-brimstone hypocrites that populate the world. While introducing himself, Zack boasts, “Yes, I spit fire.” This is a metaphor used to describe his censorious speech that is figuratively scorching with its shocking and indelible truths. Zack also uses plenty of allusions in “Calm Like a Bomb.” During the song, he comments, “Word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris.” He is alluding to the exploits of James Baldwin, a writer and civil rights advocate who returned to participate in the Civil Rights Movement in America after living in seclusion as an expatriate for years. Zack is likening his verbal attack to Baldwin’s during the mid-20th century.
The title serves as an adequate slogan that embodies all of the frenetic ideals that underlie this particular song. “Calm Like a Bomb” is a extreme oxymoron that is such a contradictory statement that it further persuades listeners to recognize the urgent conviction of the singer’s message and help empathize with the anger and frustration that is so interlaced with his stream of thought. It also has a very visceral impact with the comparison to a bomb, an explosive device capable of literally destroying everything in its path. But in this song, a positive connation is subtly lent to the bomb, which is less portrayed as a weapon of fear and more like a tool of the radicals who want to shake the foundations of the United States to its very core. Thus, being calm like a bomb is a natural side effect of the rebels who wield their agitprop like a sword of justice.
The tone of the song undergoes myriad changes as Zack de la Rocha vents his anger at the broken American system and searches for an answer amidst all the suffering. In the beginning, he makes inflammatory comments about the injustices committed to the poor and impoverished. He accuses the government of neglecting the people with insufficient care. Zack laments the “same bodies buried hungry, but with different last names,” referring to the ongoing inhumane treatment of American citizens who struggle to put food on the table every day. The incorrigible avarice of profiteers and capitalists are represented as “vultures robbin’ everything, leave nothing but chains.” These uncomfortable truths evoke feelings of indignation and sympathy towards the people who have been viewed with indifference for so long. Then the tone shifts from having resentful and furiously antagonistic undertones to containing an urgent demand for a better life and future. Zack foresees “America’s demise,” that is, the downfall of the current system of capitalism. He utters, “Hope lies in the smoldering rubbles of empires.” So with the occurrence of a massive revolution against a heartless government, a new, equal world order can be forged from the ashes, where all people are treated equally. Thus, the song ends on a more idealistic note, while at the same time reiterating the ongoing calamities.
In one encompassing song, Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine takes a obstinately one-sided look at all of the corrupt and immoral dealings that have been going on in America for a long time. According to him, the lower class’s right to live is being threatened by supercilious Corporate America, and if things do not change, then a revolt against the status quo can be expected and embraced.
Lyrics
feel the funk blast,feel the funk blast,FEEL THE FUNK BLAST,a yo-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo, check it out yo-yo-yo
I be walkin god like a dog My narrative fearless Word war returns to burn Like Baldwin home from Paris, Uh Like steel from a furnace I was born landless Yes its tha native son Born of Zapatas guns Stroll through the shanties And tha cities remains Same bodies buried hungry But with different last names The vultures robbin everything Leave nothing but chains Pick a point on the globe Yes tha pictures tha same
Theres a bank, theres a church, a myth and a hearse A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth Theres a widow pig parrot A rebel to tame A whitehooded judge A syringe and a vein And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What? (x4)Calm like a bomb
This aint subliminal Feel the critical mass approach horizon Tha pulse of the condemned Sound off Americas demise Tha anti-myth rhythm rock shocker Yes I spit fire Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires Yes back through tha shanties and tha cities remains Same bodies buried hungry, uh-huh With different last names, uh-huh The vultures robbin everyone Leave nothing but chains Pick a point here at home Yes the pictures tha same
Theres a field full of slaves Some corn and some debt Theres a ditch full of bodies Tha check for the rent Theres a tap, tha phone, tha silence of stone The numb black screen That be feelin like home And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What ya say? What ya say? What ya say? What?(x4)Calm like a bomb
There's a mass without roofs There's a prison to fill There's a countrys soul that reads post no bills There's a strike and a line of cops outside of tha mill There's a right to obey And a right to kill x2
Song Analysis #1 - "Cello Song"
“Cello Song” is a tune by Nick Drake, an English singer-songwriter who made melancholic folk music about the highs and lows of life. His songs were plainspoken and insightful, while possessing a mystic quality all the while. Drake’s life was cut short when he died from an overdose of anti-depressants. This song that I chose seems to represent a definitive perspective on the folly of life from an artist that struggled to find any optimism at all in it. What starts off as a bittersweet tribute to a fallen friend morphs into deep contemplation about what is awaiting Nick after death; he hopes that it is a heaven that will put an end to all of his suffering and reunite him with his blissful friend.
In the first stanza, Drake makes a vague allusion to a key component of the Biblical tales of old: Heaven. The speaker of the song admires his friend’s calm serenity and pure nonchalance, attributed no doubt derived from a rock solid faith in the existence of a final destination that underplays life as simply a means to an end. He enviously asserts, “You have nothing to fear / for the dreams that came to you when so young / told of a life / where spring is sprung” (4-7). God’s kingdom is portrayed as the light at the end of the tunnel; Drake isn’t so steadfast as his friend, leaving him susceptible to the daily emotional tumult that plagues him. Then, when his beloved friend passes away, “(sailing) to the sky on the crest of a wave” (13-14), Drake imagines the deceased’s transcendence from confined body to freed soul.
In telling the tale of his companion’s tragic end, Drake inevitably compares the liberties of someone else to his own incessant calamities. Metaphorical language is employed to describe the mental conflicts that the speaker faces within his mind. His dark bouts of depression are described as that time “in the cold of the night / when the armies of emotion go out to fight” (9-10). While Drake tries to keep his personal demons at bay, he fears for the safety of his friend, saying, “You would seem so frail.” But the friend, who piously places faith in salvation, manages to evade the inner turmoil that invades Drake’s consciousness.
The tone that permeates the first half of the song is strongly mournful and regrettable, not solely because of the death of the speaker’s close friend, but because of the wondrous escape through death that occurred, leaving him to wallow even more in his doubt and misery. Drake carries a negative aspect on most things, as evidenced by the forlorn proclamation, “The earth sinks to its grave” (12). With pessimism abound, he can only dream about a better existence that can possibly offer solace and nurture his emotional pain. Towards the closing of the song, the attitude of the singer slightly alters. With a heavy note of resignation, Drake resolves to ignore his pitiful state and “forget this cruel world” (15) and focus on perseveringly pouring out the blues in music, which may somehow dull the pervasive pathos. He aspires to wait it out, hoping that one day he’ll spot the hand of his long lost friend, who’ll lead him into a newly discovered paradise.
This mellow song deeply resonates as ample representation of the sad heart of a man dissatisfied and let down by all of life’s banality. It plays on the heartstrings of anyone who’s ever felt traumatized and despondent. Through the envious eyes of a restless man, death is portrayed not as a foreboding end, but a benevolent savior that will whisk one away to a place where expectations are met, not battered away into oblivion.
Lyrics
Strange face, with your eyes / So pale and sincere / Underneath you know well / You have nothing to fear / For the dreams that came to you when so young / Told of a life / Where spring is sprung
You would seem so frail / In the cold of the night / When the armies of emotion / Go out to fight / But while the earth sinks to its grave / You sail to the sky / On the crest of a wave
So forget this cruel world / Where I belong / I'll just sit and wait / And sing my song / And if one day you should see me in the crowd / Lend a hand and lift me / To your place in the cloud.
In the first stanza, Drake makes a vague allusion to a key component of the Biblical tales of old: Heaven. The speaker of the song admires his friend’s calm serenity and pure nonchalance, attributed no doubt derived from a rock solid faith in the existence of a final destination that underplays life as simply a means to an end. He enviously asserts, “You have nothing to fear / for the dreams that came to you when so young / told of a life / where spring is sprung” (4-7). God’s kingdom is portrayed as the light at the end of the tunnel; Drake isn’t so steadfast as his friend, leaving him susceptible to the daily emotional tumult that plagues him. Then, when his beloved friend passes away, “(sailing) to the sky on the crest of a wave” (13-14), Drake imagines the deceased’s transcendence from confined body to freed soul.
In telling the tale of his companion’s tragic end, Drake inevitably compares the liberties of someone else to his own incessant calamities. Metaphorical language is employed to describe the mental conflicts that the speaker faces within his mind. His dark bouts of depression are described as that time “in the cold of the night / when the armies of emotion go out to fight” (9-10). While Drake tries to keep his personal demons at bay, he fears for the safety of his friend, saying, “You would seem so frail.” But the friend, who piously places faith in salvation, manages to evade the inner turmoil that invades Drake’s consciousness.
The tone that permeates the first half of the song is strongly mournful and regrettable, not solely because of the death of the speaker’s close friend, but because of the wondrous escape through death that occurred, leaving him to wallow even more in his doubt and misery. Drake carries a negative aspect on most things, as evidenced by the forlorn proclamation, “The earth sinks to its grave” (12). With pessimism abound, he can only dream about a better existence that can possibly offer solace and nurture his emotional pain. Towards the closing of the song, the attitude of the singer slightly alters. With a heavy note of resignation, Drake resolves to ignore his pitiful state and “forget this cruel world” (15) and focus on perseveringly pouring out the blues in music, which may somehow dull the pervasive pathos. He aspires to wait it out, hoping that one day he’ll spot the hand of his long lost friend, who’ll lead him into a newly discovered paradise.
This mellow song deeply resonates as ample representation of the sad heart of a man dissatisfied and let down by all of life’s banality. It plays on the heartstrings of anyone who’s ever felt traumatized and despondent. Through the envious eyes of a restless man, death is portrayed not as a foreboding end, but a benevolent savior that will whisk one away to a place where expectations are met, not battered away into oblivion.
Lyrics
Strange face, with your eyes / So pale and sincere / Underneath you know well / You have nothing to fear / For the dreams that came to you when so young / Told of a life / Where spring is sprung
You would seem so frail / In the cold of the night / When the armies of emotion / Go out to fight / But while the earth sinks to its grave / You sail to the sky / On the crest of a wave
So forget this cruel world / Where I belong / I'll just sit and wait / And sing my song / And if one day you should see me in the crowd / Lend a hand and lift me / To your place in the cloud.
Persuasive Analysis #4 - "Tobacco Free Hall County"
“Tobacco Free Hall County” is an anti-smoking advertisement that attacks secondhand smoke, one of the more dominant side effects of cigarettes. It features a disheveled, young soccer player sitting on a bench in what appears to be an empty locker room. His face is covered with grime and appears inwardly anxious, as if awaiting the outcome of a decisive match. To the left side of the athlete is a subtitle that bluntly says, “Secondhand Smoke Kills”, while underneath are some facts pertaining to the casualties of smoking. They point to chain smoking parents as the main culprits behind childhood asthma. In the bottom right-hand corner the advertisement offers two phone numbers, presumably so that the curious audience can discover more information about the plague of secondhand smoke.
In this pertinent advertisement against smoking and the collateral damage that it incurs, logical reasoning is relied on heavily to enforce the idea that smoking is deadly and has vast repercussions. It gravely states, “[secondhand smoke] increases the number of asthma attacks and the severity of asthma by 20%." Positioned at the forefront of the ad, these words greatly perturb the conscience of the reader, whether he or she is a smoker or a non-smoker, because the reader is presented with irrevocable hard facts that support the claim of secondhand smoke’s lethality. But while the inclusion of quantitative data helps in convincing the audience of the validity of the argument, there is some faulty logic present that is reinforced by obvious fallacies. The inventors of this ad are guilty of begging the question; it is apparent that secondhand smoke is portrayed as the ultimate, if not sole, perpetrator of asthma attacks. It leads the audience on to believe that smokers should be charged with spreading an epidemic of asthma, while ignoring other contributing factors like genetics and environmental pollution, thus predetermining the conclusion of the argument before the reader can do so.The severity of secondhand smoke is also overstated through the use of evocative imagery. In the advertisement the soccer player is sitting behind two barred windows, creating a sense of impending doom. This is a deft way of using ethos to appeal to the audience. Anyone with an open mind could easily be moved by such a harrowing representation of the hazards of smoking.
Source: http://www.jasonkobs.com/images/design/advertising_anti-smoking.jpg
In this pertinent advertisement against smoking and the collateral damage that it incurs, logical reasoning is relied on heavily to enforce the idea that smoking is deadly and has vast repercussions. It gravely states, “[secondhand smoke] increases the number of asthma attacks and the severity of asthma by 20%." Positioned at the forefront of the ad, these words greatly perturb the conscience of the reader, whether he or she is a smoker or a non-smoker, because the reader is presented with irrevocable hard facts that support the claim of secondhand smoke’s lethality. But while the inclusion of quantitative data helps in convincing the audience of the validity of the argument, there is some faulty logic present that is reinforced by obvious fallacies. The inventors of this ad are guilty of begging the question; it is apparent that secondhand smoke is portrayed as the ultimate, if not sole, perpetrator of asthma attacks. It leads the audience on to believe that smokers should be charged with spreading an epidemic of asthma, while ignoring other contributing factors like genetics and environmental pollution, thus predetermining the conclusion of the argument before the reader can do so.The severity of secondhand smoke is also overstated through the use of evocative imagery. In the advertisement the soccer player is sitting behind two barred windows, creating a sense of impending doom. This is a deft way of using ethos to appeal to the audience. Anyone with an open mind could easily be moved by such a harrowing representation of the hazards of smoking.
Source: http://www.jasonkobs.com/images/design/advertising_anti-smoking.jpg
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Persuasive Analysis #3 - "Where Education and War Coexist"
"Where Education and War Coexist” is a print advertisement found within Rolling Stone magazine. It depicts a black man with his back on the camera, wearing a ragged white bandana and t-shirt. He is holding a rifle behind his head and above his shoulders while also wearing a backpack bearing the clearly legible words, “Stay in school.” The background is out of focus and indistinguishable, although it vaguely resembles a ramshackle building, similar to the ones found in Africa. The man has noticeably defined muscles, but at the same time he appears young, maybe in his early twenties. In the bottom right-hand corner of the ad is the location of the title, positioned at a diagonal slant.
In this visceral advertisement, certain fallacies in reasoning are used to persuade the audience to stay in school. A harrowing and effective bifurcation is presented to the reader when one reads the statement “stay in school” on the black man’s bag. It asserts that a dangerous and unpredictable future awaits anyone who drops out of school, as if as soon as they leave the haven of education they are swept up by the claws of violent self-destructive behavior. The advertisement seems to imply that if one does decide to remain in school, then he or she has a much better chance of leading a successful life. This heavy-handed argument doesn’t represent the other side of the story, like the rags-to-riches tales of people who escape their past and create a happy life through self-determination. Ethos through ethos is also clearly employed; one could classify it as a thinly-veiled form of race-baiting disguised as social concern. Despite the wide variety of ethnicities that have fallen through the cracks of society, a black man is represented in this ad, as if he is the epitome of all that is ruthless and corruptible. This plays on the audience’s emotions, such as their preexisting apprehensions toward gun-toting blacks and their ultra-violent behavior (i.e. South Central, Los Angeles). Thus, this advertisement is very flawed in having been designed as an ultimatum to either save the dispossessed black race, or witness uncontrollable atrocities.
Source: http://www.wackyarchives.com/offbeat/best-rolling-stone-ads.html
In this visceral advertisement, certain fallacies in reasoning are used to persuade the audience to stay in school. A harrowing and effective bifurcation is presented to the reader when one reads the statement “stay in school” on the black man’s bag. It asserts that a dangerous and unpredictable future awaits anyone who drops out of school, as if as soon as they leave the haven of education they are swept up by the claws of violent self-destructive behavior. The advertisement seems to imply that if one does decide to remain in school, then he or she has a much better chance of leading a successful life. This heavy-handed argument doesn’t represent the other side of the story, like the rags-to-riches tales of people who escape their past and create a happy life through self-determination. Ethos through ethos is also clearly employed; one could classify it as a thinly-veiled form of race-baiting disguised as social concern. Despite the wide variety of ethnicities that have fallen through the cracks of society, a black man is represented in this ad, as if he is the epitome of all that is ruthless and corruptible. This plays on the audience’s emotions, such as their preexisting apprehensions toward gun-toting blacks and their ultra-violent behavior (i.e. South Central, Los Angeles). Thus, this advertisement is very flawed in having been designed as an ultimatum to either save the dispossessed black race, or witness uncontrollable atrocities.
Source: http://www.wackyarchives.com/offbeat/best-rolling-stone-ads.html
Persuasive Analysis #2 - "When the Whip Comes Down"
“When the Whip Comes Down” is an article by Matt Haber, a writer from GQ magazine. It chronicles the subjugation of men to the domineering women who have manipulated them to cater to every feminine whim. References are made to certain historical figures who have been controlled by the leash of their female partners, such as John Lennon and Ronald Reagan. Then to further support the claim of the rule of women, Haber turns to modern-day examples that demonstrate the current trend of powerful and influential females who exert their control over their husbands/mates. Couples whose exploits are reported in the tabloids are the primary sources for proving that men are currently being whipped to a laughable extent. The history behind relationships like Eminem and his wife and Madonna and Guy Ritchie showcase how men undermine their masculinity in a variety of ways to satisfy the wishes of their beloved. Observations on reformed behavior and rapid character transformations are just a few of the incidents that reinforce the notion that female dominance is alive and well.
There are many persuasive elements that assist in proving Matt Haber’s assertion that women have an undeniable influence on the men they are with. Pathos in a vividly humorous way is utilized when the author recounts how Yoko Ono used to subject John Lennon to her authority when she left “cat turds in his path.” This description of such a preposterous situation may make some readers feel incredulous, but it is that same preposterousness that sways the audience toward the opinion of the writer. Then Haber tells about the obvious signs of women’s dominance, like “pathological obedience, public humiliation, couples Pilates.” These occurrences are not as rare and obscene as the author suggests they are. Thus, the article invokes blatantly faulty cause to justify the existence of men and women living their lives harmoniously while doing things they body enjoy. Haber also employs ethical reasoning to support his claim, such as when he describes one of the highlighted relationships in his article: the estranged union between Marshall Mathers (Eminem) and Kim Mathers. Eminem used to document his vehement hatred for his ex-wife through his acidic rap albums; now, after a long period of bitter feuding, he decides to marry “the women he’s spent years openly fantasizing about killing, then he goes and marries her again.” Ethos is the dominant persuasive device because the commonly held perception of Eminem as an ignorant, twisted misogynist is shattered by such a selfless, reconciliatory act. This does wonders to convince the reader that women truly have obtained the upper hand in relationships, no matter what the circumstances.
Source: http://men.style.com/gq/features/landing?id=content_6697
There are many persuasive elements that assist in proving Matt Haber’s assertion that women have an undeniable influence on the men they are with. Pathos in a vividly humorous way is utilized when the author recounts how Yoko Ono used to subject John Lennon to her authority when she left “cat turds in his path.” This description of such a preposterous situation may make some readers feel incredulous, but it is that same preposterousness that sways the audience toward the opinion of the writer. Then Haber tells about the obvious signs of women’s dominance, like “pathological obedience, public humiliation, couples Pilates.” These occurrences are not as rare and obscene as the author suggests they are. Thus, the article invokes blatantly faulty cause to justify the existence of men and women living their lives harmoniously while doing things they body enjoy. Haber also employs ethical reasoning to support his claim, such as when he describes one of the highlighted relationships in his article: the estranged union between Marshall Mathers (Eminem) and Kim Mathers. Eminem used to document his vehement hatred for his ex-wife through his acidic rap albums; now, after a long period of bitter feuding, he decides to marry “the women he’s spent years openly fantasizing about killing, then he goes and marries her again.” Ethos is the dominant persuasive device because the commonly held perception of Eminem as an ignorant, twisted misogynist is shattered by such a selfless, reconciliatory act. This does wonders to convince the reader that women truly have obtained the upper hand in relationships, no matter what the circumstances.
Source: http://men.style.com/gq/features/landing?id=content_6697
Persuasive Analysis #1 - "Open Letter to Lou Dobbs"
“Open Letter to Lou Dobbs” is an article written by the editorial staff of GQ (Gentleman’s Quarterly) addressed to Lou Dobbs, a CNN news anchor and talk show host. It focuses on the repetitiveness of Dobbs’ impassioned argument against illegal immigration, aiming to persuade readers of his ineptitude. The authors of the article satirically say that his rants have become filled with platitudes and clichéd remarks. With tongue in cheek, they applaud Dobbs for having capitalized as a fervent demagogue who employs fear-mongering tactics so skillfully that everyone in the media world wants to be friends with him. Some of his anti-immigration argument is acknowledged, such as the need to secure jobs for Americans first and protect the feeble economy against a flood of illegal aliens. But the GQ staff reminds Lou Dobbs that immigrants are an integral part of America; they allude to the fact that the country was founded by immigrants. Then the article cites the inane solutions proposed by Republican presidential candidates, making Dobbs appear to be just another general voice in the fray. At the end of the open letter, four recommendations are given to Lou Dobbs. Half-jokingly, it is suggested that Dobbs spend some time with the Beckham soccer family to get a feel of what it is like to be an immigrant. GQ also advises him to tone down on the hardball tactics, á la Bill O’Reilly.
Throughout “Open Letter with Lou Dobbs,” the GQ editorial staff employs plenty of fallacies and other persuasive techniques to convince the reader of the errors of Lou Dobbs’ ways. A non sequitar is used to undermine the validity of the subject of criticism, in which the authors complain that Dobbs’ conversations have “gotten so boring we’d rather watch pro hockey” (8-9). Although this doesn’t follow in line with the source of the criticism, it appeals to the reader’s sense of humor and helps melt away any reservations or biases the reader holds. There is a faulty analogy present that also serves to discredit Lou Dobbs, in which a nonsensical reference states that “there are plenty of workers out there who are struggling to find jobs. Aaron Brown. Paula Zahn. Tucker Carlson” (21-22). It indirectly portrays Dobbs as an arrogant pundit who has no authority to offer discourse on the state of jobs when he is currently in possession of a comfy, high-paying one. Then, towards the end of the article, sweeping generalizations are made about the sort of people that share Dobbs’ ideals and what they have in store for America as presidential nominees. The writers say that “Huckabee will ask Jesus what he would do, and then he’ll get back to us” (30). These broad stereotypical comments do everything to prevent the validation of Lou Dobbs’ nativist crusade by likening him to uber-conservative right-wingers who tremendously overreact to the immigration problem, making it easier for the audience to easily dismiss Dobbs as an outlandish, hypocritical person without a pint of compassion for the plight of immigrants.
Source: http://men.style.com/gq/talkback/openletter/archive/0802
Throughout “Open Letter with Lou Dobbs,” the GQ editorial staff employs plenty of fallacies and other persuasive techniques to convince the reader of the errors of Lou Dobbs’ ways. A non sequitar is used to undermine the validity of the subject of criticism, in which the authors complain that Dobbs’ conversations have “gotten so boring we’d rather watch pro hockey” (8-9). Although this doesn’t follow in line with the source of the criticism, it appeals to the reader’s sense of humor and helps melt away any reservations or biases the reader holds. There is a faulty analogy present that also serves to discredit Lou Dobbs, in which a nonsensical reference states that “there are plenty of workers out there who are struggling to find jobs. Aaron Brown. Paula Zahn. Tucker Carlson” (21-22). It indirectly portrays Dobbs as an arrogant pundit who has no authority to offer discourse on the state of jobs when he is currently in possession of a comfy, high-paying one. Then, towards the end of the article, sweeping generalizations are made about the sort of people that share Dobbs’ ideals and what they have in store for America as presidential nominees. The writers say that “Huckabee will ask Jesus what he would do, and then he’ll get back to us” (30). These broad stereotypical comments do everything to prevent the validation of Lou Dobbs’ nativist crusade by likening him to uber-conservative right-wingers who tremendously overreact to the immigration problem, making it easier for the audience to easily dismiss Dobbs as an outlandish, hypocritical person without a pint of compassion for the plight of immigrants.
Source: http://men.style.com/gq/talkback/openletter/archive/0802
Monday, April 28, 2008
Works Cited - (All for nothing!, oh well)
Interpol. "Leif Erikson." By Paul Banks. Rec. Sept. 2004. Antics. Matador, 2004.
Interpol. "No I in Threesome" By Paul Banks. Rec. Aug. 2007. Our Love to Admire. Capitol Records, 2007.
Interpol. "Specialist." By Paul Banks. Rec. June 2002. Interpol EP. Matador, 2002.
Morrison, Jim. The American Night. Vol. 2. New York: Vintage Books, 1990. 133.
"Negrodamus." Chappelle's Show. Comedy Central. CC. Apr.-May 2003.
Rage Against the Machine. "Fistful of Steel." By Zack De La Rocha. Rec. Nov. 1992. Rage Against the Machine. Epic Records, 1992.
Rage Against the Machine. "Wake Up." By Zack De La Rocha. Rec. Nov. 1992. Rage Against the Machine. Epic Records, 1992.
Scissor Sisters. "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" By Jake Shears. Rec. May 2005. Ta-Dah. Universal Records, 2006.
Soundgarden. "Jesus Christ Pose." By Chris Cornell. Rec. Oct. 1991. Badmotorfinger. A&M, 1991.
Traveling Wilburys. "Like a Ship." By George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, and Bob Dylan. Rec. May 1988. Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1. Warner Bros., 1988.
Interpol. "No I in Threesome" By Paul Banks. Rec. Aug. 2007. Our Love to Admire. Capitol Records, 2007.
Interpol. "Specialist." By Paul Banks. Rec. June 2002. Interpol EP. Matador, 2002.
Morrison, Jim. The American Night. Vol. 2. New York: Vintage Books, 1990. 133.
"Negrodamus." Chappelle's Show. Comedy Central. CC. Apr.-May 2003.
Rage Against the Machine. "Fistful of Steel." By Zack De La Rocha. Rec. Nov. 1992. Rage Against the Machine. Epic Records, 1992.
Rage Against the Machine. "Wake Up." By Zack De La Rocha. Rec. Nov. 1992. Rage Against the Machine. Epic Records, 1992.
Scissor Sisters. "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" By Jake Shears. Rec. May 2005. Ta-Dah. Universal Records, 2006.
Soundgarden. "Jesus Christ Pose." By Chris Cornell. Rec. Oct. 1991. Badmotorfinger. A&M, 1991.
Traveling Wilburys. "Like a Ship." By George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, and Bob Dylan. Rec. May 1988. Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1. Warner Bros., 1988.
Literary Devices
1. The Traveling Wilburys sing, “Like a weepin’ willow tree, her love hangs over me” (“Like a Ship”).
This is an example of a simile that likens a woman’s affection for a man to a weeping willow. It is used to characterize the love as something inescapable, a ubiquitous entity that follows the man everywhere he goes.
2. Paul Banks of Interpol sings, “My love’s a laboratory, I set all my pets free” (“Specialist”).
This is a pair of metaphors that are used to represent both the singer’s love and the various charms and romantic tactics that are entailed with it. His love is compared to a laboratory because it has been kept under wraps and tinkered with; finally he can release his inhibitions and become Romeoesque, which is embodied by the release of the pets.
3. Paul Banks of Interpol sings, “She feels that my sentimental side should be held with kids gloves” (“Leif Erikson”).
This is an example of personification, in which the singer’s sentimental side, an abstract, emotional quality, is treated as something life-like. The literary device is used to show that his sentimentality is a domineering facet of his personality; it deserves to be represented as an entirely separate being that needs special treatment.
4. Jim Morrison says, “Fear is a porch where winds slide thru in the North” (“Fear is a Porch . . .”).
This is a metaphor that compares fear to a porch that suffers the brute force of raging Northern winds. Morrison characterizes the emotion of fear as a vulnerable, exposed entity, like a rickety porch that has cracks for the wind to attack.
5. Negrodamus, a fictionalized character on Chappelle’s Show, prophesizes, “Arsenio Hall will have a new show called ‘Good Morning, Black America.’ It will be played at noon throughout the country.”
This is satire of the racial misconception about blacks that stereotypes them as listless, jobless bums that litter the ghettos of America. The famous talk show host Arsenio Hall is predicted to host a morning show that’s televised at noon, presumably to accommodate blacks that wake up incredibly late because they don’t have jobs, who in fact don’t represent the majority of the black population.
6. Jake Shears of the Scissor Sisters sings, “You got so many colours, make a blind man so confused” (“I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’”).
This is an example of a hyperbole that describes a girl’s apparel as being so vibrant that it discombobulates a blind man. It is an overt exaggeration to help convey the flashy and vibrant nature of the girl’s appearance to the listener.
7. Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine sings, “Something about silence makes me sick'Cause silence can be violent sorta like a slit wrist” (“Fistful of Steel”).
This is an example of a simile that compares the violence of silence to a slit wrist. Zack attempts to explain how silence, the epitome of complacence, can lead to grisly results. He likens it to the demise of suicide to show those who refuse to speak out the error of their ways.
8. Paul Banks of Interpol sings, “I see your lips are on fire, and life is wine” (“No I in Threesome”).
This is a couplet that contains both a hyperbole and a metaphor. The singer describes a woman’s lips as being on fire, an extreme exaggeration used to convey the passionate lust within her. Then he describes life as being wine, the quenching drink for all of her decadent desires. This is perhaps an enticement to tempt the woman to try something new.
9. Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine sings, “Set the groove, then stick and move like I was Cassius” (“Wake Up”).
This is an example of a simile that compares the lyrical prowess of Zack to the agile boxing ability of Cassius Clay, later known as Muhammad Ali. The singer boasts he can throw barbs at his targets like Ali could throw punches at his opponents.
10. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden sings, “But you’re staring at me like I need to be saved, in your Jesus Christ pose” (“Jesus Christ Pose”).
This is an example of an allusion to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Chris accuses someone of trying to garner excessive sympathy or pity, when in fact the person in question doesn’t carry a burden that warrants those sentiments.
This is an example of a simile that likens a woman’s affection for a man to a weeping willow. It is used to characterize the love as something inescapable, a ubiquitous entity that follows the man everywhere he goes.
2. Paul Banks of Interpol sings, “My love’s a laboratory, I set all my pets free” (“Specialist”).
This is a pair of metaphors that are used to represent both the singer’s love and the various charms and romantic tactics that are entailed with it. His love is compared to a laboratory because it has been kept under wraps and tinkered with; finally he can release his inhibitions and become Romeoesque, which is embodied by the release of the pets.
3. Paul Banks of Interpol sings, “She feels that my sentimental side should be held with kids gloves” (“Leif Erikson”).
This is an example of personification, in which the singer’s sentimental side, an abstract, emotional quality, is treated as something life-like. The literary device is used to show that his sentimentality is a domineering facet of his personality; it deserves to be represented as an entirely separate being that needs special treatment.
4. Jim Morrison says, “Fear is a porch where winds slide thru in the North” (“Fear is a Porch . . .”).
This is a metaphor that compares fear to a porch that suffers the brute force of raging Northern winds. Morrison characterizes the emotion of fear as a vulnerable, exposed entity, like a rickety porch that has cracks for the wind to attack.
5. Negrodamus, a fictionalized character on Chappelle’s Show, prophesizes, “Arsenio Hall will have a new show called ‘Good Morning, Black America.’ It will be played at noon throughout the country.”
This is satire of the racial misconception about blacks that stereotypes them as listless, jobless bums that litter the ghettos of America. The famous talk show host Arsenio Hall is predicted to host a morning show that’s televised at noon, presumably to accommodate blacks that wake up incredibly late because they don’t have jobs, who in fact don’t represent the majority of the black population.
6. Jake Shears of the Scissor Sisters sings, “You got so many colours, make a blind man so confused” (“I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’”).
This is an example of a hyperbole that describes a girl’s apparel as being so vibrant that it discombobulates a blind man. It is an overt exaggeration to help convey the flashy and vibrant nature of the girl’s appearance to the listener.
7. Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine sings, “Something about silence makes me sick'Cause silence can be violent sorta like a slit wrist” (“Fistful of Steel”).
This is an example of a simile that compares the violence of silence to a slit wrist. Zack attempts to explain how silence, the epitome of complacence, can lead to grisly results. He likens it to the demise of suicide to show those who refuse to speak out the error of their ways.
8. Paul Banks of Interpol sings, “I see your lips are on fire, and life is wine” (“No I in Threesome”).
This is a couplet that contains both a hyperbole and a metaphor. The singer describes a woman’s lips as being on fire, an extreme exaggeration used to convey the passionate lust within her. Then he describes life as being wine, the quenching drink for all of her decadent desires. This is perhaps an enticement to tempt the woman to try something new.
9. Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine sings, “Set the groove, then stick and move like I was Cassius” (“Wake Up”).
This is an example of a simile that compares the lyrical prowess of Zack to the agile boxing ability of Cassius Clay, later known as Muhammad Ali. The singer boasts he can throw barbs at his targets like Ali could throw punches at his opponents.
10. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden sings, “But you’re staring at me like I need to be saved, in your Jesus Christ pose” (“Jesus Christ Pose”).
This is an example of an allusion to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Chris accuses someone of trying to garner excessive sympathy or pity, when in fact the person in question doesn’t carry a burden that warrants those sentiments.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Poem #4 - Forgettable End Days
This leviathan circus beckons me to strip recognition
A wooly brim covers the eyes of a man sans diction
Why bother resuscitating the pale, stone wings in tow
When I look like a lost puppy begging for quid pro quo
Ancient prose makes love to conscience, the penultimate soothsayer
Heavenly reservations rain from the sky, a pious cat says, “Where?”
Faceless judges point their loaded markers at frolicking youth
The Bloody ritual is consummated in the monotonous booth
We should all crowd around the fatalistic, the owls in sight of sun
All the toothpick shanties await divine castigation, it’s almost done
Slimy, blinding, gapless teeth are positioned for the take
While some impale pretensions and dive wristfully into the lake
A wooly brim covers the eyes of a man sans diction
Why bother resuscitating the pale, stone wings in tow
When I look like a lost puppy begging for quid pro quo
Ancient prose makes love to conscience, the penultimate soothsayer
Heavenly reservations rain from the sky, a pious cat says, “Where?”
Faceless judges point their loaded markers at frolicking youth
The Bloody ritual is consummated in the monotonous booth
We should all crowd around the fatalistic, the owls in sight of sun
All the toothpick shanties await divine castigation, it’s almost done
Slimy, blinding, gapless teeth are positioned for the take
While some impale pretensions and dive wristfully into the lake
Poem #3 - Luscious Dissenters
Oceans blue lie in regrettable dew, a hypnotizing daze
They peacefully fidget asleep on your cerulean face
Pulsating heart takes a leap, then falls in a heap
I murder my essence and anguish seeps
Fifty-six ways I can make no one happy
It’s like keeping the house of a dog-lover cat-free
Articulation is your trade, you do it so well
Prose flows out like melted honey from a shell
These days my brooding is just ode to my woe
While you float above petty grass like a doe
New dawn Juans cry out, “Divine!” in a torrent
They peacefully fidget asleep on your cerulean face
Pulsating heart takes a leap, then falls in a heap
I murder my essence and anguish seeps
Fifty-six ways I can make no one happy
It’s like keeping the house of a dog-lover cat-free
Articulation is your trade, you do it so well
Prose flows out like melted honey from a shell
These days my brooding is just ode to my woe
While you float above petty grass like a doe
New dawn Juans cry out, “Divine!” in a torrent
In your world I’m a woodsman lost in the forest
I’d love to be a disenchanted boy in an ebullient garden
And soothe the cowering ruffles that wilt at your whim
It’s hard to hug a cadaverous leaf, sadly
But I scheme to navigate the labyrinth like Señor Wily
I’d love to be a disenchanted boy in an ebullient garden
And soothe the cowering ruffles that wilt at your whim
It’s hard to hug a cadaverous leaf, sadly
But I scheme to navigate the labyrinth like Señor Wily
Poem #2 - Downfall
The oily, black serpent crawls out of the ground
Mothers shield their babies, fathers jump town
The trail to Perdition shows the visage of the lightning messiah
Who beckons them to cut their morality wire
Dystopian highways intersect through the sacred forest
Where mutilated nymphs cry out in a woeful chorus
The foaming hoards spoil the milk of God’s ancient crusade
With their greed, ambition, and clever grey shades
Samuel the Despot reveals his crooked grin
He’s a huckster toward the people and a saint toward his kin
Killing comes easy for the forsaken wielder of Thor’s hammer
Practice makes perfect as he guts the helpless debtors
The emblazoned preacher hurls his cross at anyone in his path
Slashing their dignity into ribbons; for pious leeches it’s simple math
In the gleam of the fanatical eyes one sees quixotic pleasures waiting
Once he devours the first tender soul allured to the baiting
Mothers shield their babies, fathers jump town
The trail to Perdition shows the visage of the lightning messiah
Who beckons them to cut their morality wire
Dystopian highways intersect through the sacred forest
Where mutilated nymphs cry out in a woeful chorus
The foaming hoards spoil the milk of God’s ancient crusade
With their greed, ambition, and clever grey shades
Samuel the Despot reveals his crooked grin
He’s a huckster toward the people and a saint toward his kin
Killing comes easy for the forsaken wielder of Thor’s hammer
Practice makes perfect as he guts the helpless debtors
The emblazoned preacher hurls his cross at anyone in his path
Slashing their dignity into ribbons; for pious leeches it’s simple math
In the gleam of the fanatical eyes one sees quixotic pleasures waiting
Once he devours the first tender soul allured to the baiting
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Train Insane
Train Insane – A Start-stop Rollercoaster
Train Insane is a song formed out an imagined fantasy involving a guy longing to be with a girl who completely ignores him because of his lack of attractive qualities. The lyrics approach the situation from the woeful man’s point of view, as he tries to persuade the girl of his dreams of his hidden yet worthy value. The protagonist yearns for that elusive mutual love, pulling out all the stops to gain her attention. Then during the third verse, he turns more despondent and basically gives up all hope. The closing line, repeated over and over, pay tribute to the hopeless, ludicrous dance that lovers partake in to achieve fulfillment.
In order to convey the raging emotions of the central character, I aimed to create a blend of melodic rhythm and abrasive squalls of noise. When one of the verses falls apart into an extended series of screeching guitar notes, this is meant to symbolize the frustration of someone who is continually snatched from the jaws of victory. I implemented the use of a drum machine and a bass guitar so that the added percussion would add more urgency and forcefulness to the song. For the guitar solo, I devised its entrance to be unannounced and standing alone, similar to how the earnest love-sick boy feels all the time. It could be likened to a mating call, perhaps out of desperation, because the idolized girl probably has given up on him by now.
In a nutshell, Train Insane is just blithe and frothy commentary on how the innocent game of love can be based on such faulty notions like conceit and ignorance. If everyone were as selective and unyielding as the suggested ice-queen of this song, then humans would never be able to procreate.
Lyrics
I sure do like your striped cotton sweater
I think it'd make an earnest mermaid wetter
Don't reproach these face-saving acts of love
You could always pull the plug with a shove
I wish you wouldn't file me away
Always trying to hold my lust at bay
You float me like a cadaver on a dirge
But I'll reciprocate, like a tortoise on the surge
Daring social manuevers abound
Have you ever heard of a girl so wound?
Oh well, I pleaded with your porcelain face
I guess my straw ambitions will go to waste
Kraut passion flows out of your fingertips
The prodigal Poseidon craves your luscious lips
Those quizzical brows must look past me being shy
If not then what is there for me but to die
Whirling glib tribal dances, like scornful generals armed with lances
Train Insane is a song formed out an imagined fantasy involving a guy longing to be with a girl who completely ignores him because of his lack of attractive qualities. The lyrics approach the situation from the woeful man’s point of view, as he tries to persuade the girl of his dreams of his hidden yet worthy value. The protagonist yearns for that elusive mutual love, pulling out all the stops to gain her attention. Then during the third verse, he turns more despondent and basically gives up all hope. The closing line, repeated over and over, pay tribute to the hopeless, ludicrous dance that lovers partake in to achieve fulfillment.
In order to convey the raging emotions of the central character, I aimed to create a blend of melodic rhythm and abrasive squalls of noise. When one of the verses falls apart into an extended series of screeching guitar notes, this is meant to symbolize the frustration of someone who is continually snatched from the jaws of victory. I implemented the use of a drum machine and a bass guitar so that the added percussion would add more urgency and forcefulness to the song. For the guitar solo, I devised its entrance to be unannounced and standing alone, similar to how the earnest love-sick boy feels all the time. It could be likened to a mating call, perhaps out of desperation, because the idolized girl probably has given up on him by now.
In a nutshell, Train Insane is just blithe and frothy commentary on how the innocent game of love can be based on such faulty notions like conceit and ignorance. If everyone were as selective and unyielding as the suggested ice-queen of this song, then humans would never be able to procreate.
Lyrics
I sure do like your striped cotton sweater
I think it'd make an earnest mermaid wetter
Don't reproach these face-saving acts of love
You could always pull the plug with a shove
I wish you wouldn't file me away
Always trying to hold my lust at bay
You float me like a cadaver on a dirge
But I'll reciprocate, like a tortoise on the surge
Daring social manuevers abound
Have you ever heard of a girl so wound?
Oh well, I pleaded with your porcelain face
I guess my straw ambitions will go to waste
Kraut passion flows out of your fingertips
The prodigal Poseidon craves your luscious lips
Those quizzical brows must look past me being shy
If not then what is there for me but to die
Whirling glib tribal dances, like scornful generals armed with lances
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
"Across the Universe"
“Across the Universe” – A Quintessential Beatles Song
I chose to do a cover of “Across the Universe” because it speaks to me on innumerable levels. Written during the Beatles’ Transcendental Meditation period, the lyrics are an encompassing, omnipotent reflection on mankind’s existence in the world and everything beyond it. The words are so fluidly poetic, like something that has emerged from a tranquil dream. John Lennon wrote these lyrics to maybe underline people’s insignificance in the face of a massive, unknown universe. The tone is effervescent and melancholic at the same time; the song champions the vivacious human spirit, while lamenting the outpouring of grief and sorrow that surrounds us. I relate to this song because I also feel overwhelmed by the immeasurable gravitas of life and by a muddled perception of the unknown. The Sanskrit phrase “Jai guru deva,” which roughly translates to “All hail the God divine,” is a fitting tribute that I have often found myself longing to express. Whoever listens to this song and understands what presence it’s alluding to should be incredulous of anyone not in perpetual awe of the creator of such an universe.
For my rendition of “Across the Universe,” I tried to keep my arrangement as sparse as possible. It’s not even feasible for someone to come close to the atmosphere of excellence that the Beatles reigned in during all their songs. I just tried to do the song justice by conveying supple empathy while keeping mellow undertones in the background.
I chose to do a cover of “Across the Universe” because it speaks to me on innumerable levels. Written during the Beatles’ Transcendental Meditation period, the lyrics are an encompassing, omnipotent reflection on mankind’s existence in the world and everything beyond it. The words are so fluidly poetic, like something that has emerged from a tranquil dream. John Lennon wrote these lyrics to maybe underline people’s insignificance in the face of a massive, unknown universe. The tone is effervescent and melancholic at the same time; the song champions the vivacious human spirit, while lamenting the outpouring of grief and sorrow that surrounds us. I relate to this song because I also feel overwhelmed by the immeasurable gravitas of life and by a muddled perception of the unknown. The Sanskrit phrase “Jai guru deva,” which roughly translates to “All hail the God divine,” is a fitting tribute that I have often found myself longing to express. Whoever listens to this song and understands what presence it’s alluding to should be incredulous of anyone not in perpetual awe of the creator of such an universe.
For my rendition of “Across the Universe,” I tried to keep my arrangement as sparse as possible. It’s not even feasible for someone to come close to the atmosphere of excellence that the Beatles reigned in during all their songs. I just tried to do the song justice by conveying supple empathy while keeping mellow undertones in the background.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Warbling Bytes
Warbling Bytes - Intricate Squabble
Warbling Squabble is a song built around a grooving beat that I found so irresistible that the rest of the song is built around. I imagine the drums being played by some powerhouse performer like Neil Pert from Rush. The song opens with some eloquent noodling, then delves into a riff that I came up while listening to the country legend Hank Williams. It sounds a bit formulaic and recycled, but it’s a solid and reliable riff that carries the song. The lyrics are brief, and are open to interpretation. I dabbled in some accusations toward petty souls that are satisfied to watch atrocities from a distance. I also throw some barbs at the religious hypocrisy that has consumed so many. Then I belt out a face-melting solo just for kicks. I advise listeners to wear protective gear before exposing their ears to such grandiosity. After that, I took an old drum sample and played it in reverse, creating a vacuum sound that came out pretty epic, like something from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Once again I borrowed something, this time from Radiohead, specifically their OK Computer album. The robot voice from “Fitter Happier” proved to be a haunting interlude that leads to the most ludicrous closer that I could possibly imagine. First, there’s a sound bite from a skit involving Will Ferrell. Lasting for a few seconds, it contains an originally gleeful laugh that sounds rather sadistic placed in the context of my song.
Saving the best for last, I ended with a doleful and Oscar-worthy moment. I created an imaginary dialogue between me and Daniel Plainview, the megalomaniac from There Will Be Blood. I plead with him to spare my metaphorical milkshake, which really alludes to anything one wants it to. My efforts are to no avail; in the end Daniel, filled with gluttony, slurps up my milkshake. Then he calls the waiter for another one, just to rub it in my face.
Lyrics
What are you going to sue for
Waiting for your charred soul
Your compassion crumpled up like a useless doll
Don't your hands turn cold when you see them hollow eyes
The rusted fence hides the blood of innocents
Run now and don't look back at the outdated book
Till there's nothing left
Of your precious naivete
Warbling Squabble is a song built around a grooving beat that I found so irresistible that the rest of the song is built around. I imagine the drums being played by some powerhouse performer like Neil Pert from Rush. The song opens with some eloquent noodling, then delves into a riff that I came up while listening to the country legend Hank Williams. It sounds a bit formulaic and recycled, but it’s a solid and reliable riff that carries the song. The lyrics are brief, and are open to interpretation. I dabbled in some accusations toward petty souls that are satisfied to watch atrocities from a distance. I also throw some barbs at the religious hypocrisy that has consumed so many. Then I belt out a face-melting solo just for kicks. I advise listeners to wear protective gear before exposing their ears to such grandiosity. After that, I took an old drum sample and played it in reverse, creating a vacuum sound that came out pretty epic, like something from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Once again I borrowed something, this time from Radiohead, specifically their OK Computer album. The robot voice from “Fitter Happier” proved to be a haunting interlude that leads to the most ludicrous closer that I could possibly imagine. First, there’s a sound bite from a skit involving Will Ferrell. Lasting for a few seconds, it contains an originally gleeful laugh that sounds rather sadistic placed in the context of my song.
Saving the best for last, I ended with a doleful and Oscar-worthy moment. I created an imaginary dialogue between me and Daniel Plainview, the megalomaniac from There Will Be Blood. I plead with him to spare my metaphorical milkshake, which really alludes to anything one wants it to. My efforts are to no avail; in the end Daniel, filled with gluttony, slurps up my milkshake. Then he calls the waiter for another one, just to rub it in my face.
Lyrics
What are you going to sue for
Waiting for your charred soul
Your compassion crumpled up like a useless doll
Don't your hands turn cold when you see them hollow eyes
The rusted fence hides the blood of innocents
Run now and don't look back at the outdated book
Till there's nothing left
Of your precious naivete
Draconian Picket Plunge
Draconian Picket Plunge - An Exercise in Bombast
I came up with this song while I was thinking of a way to create a fusion of genres that I am particularly fond of (ie. folk, house). The lyrics of the songs were written in a flurry, as sort of a cautionary tale about the evils of humanity and how greed can seduce a person’s soul. Then, thinking that simple, frugal words and a strummed guitar weren't sufficient enough in conveying the desperate tone, I applied my voice through a vocoder at certain moments. Although one may think that that decision was a schlocky, whimsical touch, I intended it to project an extension of melancholy sentiment I threw in an ominous synthesizer during the supposed breakdown midway through the song. This section was imagined as a funeral dirge in memory of the death of goodwill; it later evolves into a requiem of insanity/corruption. To create an eerie and subversive undertone, I played my voice in reverse over the synthesizer, which came out sounding ritualistic and demonic in nature. Then, at the end of the song, all hell breaks loose, figuratively and in a way literally. This portion was conceived in my mind as a sort of house party in hell. The unnamed hero of the song has been tempted by Satan and has decided to let loose his inhibitions, so appropriately, the end comes off as a hedonistic sonic narrative of a lost soul who inevitably joined the tormenters he could not defeat.
The title, as confusing and inadvertent as it sounds, describes the futile efforts of people who try to rise against the system, then are merciless crushed. Their hopes and ideals are squashed by the totalitarian, stentorian voice of authority. The protagonist, once a moralizer and fighter for rights, is horribly scarred from experience, and ends up a disillusioned man who revels in decadence, a postmodern Lord Henry.
Lyrics
Verse
What are you waiting for?
The sun is glistening for you
But the luster, well it blinds me
And binds me, till my hands caress no one
Chorus
All the willows are burning in their irreparable debt
They’ll lure you and betray you with a check
Verse
Oh, permit the trespass against the beggar
Cause soon…
The art of squinting points you toward cheerful killings
The black gasoline coalesces both sin & virtue
Chorus
Friday, April 11, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Poem #1 - Surreal
I’m wandering for my celestial providence
Putrid doors seen to follow me everywhere
Lucid pig grins are piled on dense
Through Shiva’s embrace I let my heart tear
To search for the sepulchral agent of chaos
It’s wingful madness, I suppose
But I’ve ran hard in the labyrinth boss
“Game’s over,” bellows the cloud and smites me in boast
I will claw out of this postmodern cage
Coalesce my eagerness with the dew-laden leaves
Strike a deal with the swindling mage
And get my kicks before they find my brain of weaves
Long ago I lost the gilded rudder
That used to fend off those she-devils of damnation
So I dolefully board the train covered by cemented shutters
It will drag me to the laconic reptilian exhibition
Putrid doors seen to follow me everywhere
Lucid pig grins are piled on dense
Through Shiva’s embrace I let my heart tear
To search for the sepulchral agent of chaos
It’s wingful madness, I suppose
But I’ve ran hard in the labyrinth boss
“Game’s over,” bellows the cloud and smites me in boast
I will claw out of this postmodern cage
Coalesce my eagerness with the dew-laden leaves
Strike a deal with the swindling mage
And get my kicks before they find my brain of weaves
Long ago I lost the gilded rudder
That used to fend off those she-devils of damnation
So I dolefully board the train covered by cemented shutters
It will drag me to the laconic reptilian exhibition
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