So far for the past couple of days I’ve been coming home to quiet, empty traps, cheese still intact, springs still locked. I think I’ll be leaving them out for a bit more, just in case more little guys decide to show up. Last two BSC bowls of the season came and went, pretty crazy, triple OT in the Orange, and a shootout in the Rose resulting in a new national champion. Good way to end the college football season, and to set up the NFL playoffs.
Hit the gym today for the first post-holiday session, aside from the extra poundage I put on from the break, I’m still at a decent level of conditioning in terms of strength and endurance. Hopefully my class schedule this semester will make it easier for me to get 2-3 workouts per week. For this past semester I was only able to make it down on average once a week, usually on a friday, which made me kind of anti for the most of the season.
Spring semester assignments are coming in online already, time to stretch out the brain and get ready for round 2. Probably stop by the school later this week to pick up some books, find my classrooms, and then it’s back to business as usual.
Lately I’ve been listening to the sounds of Matisyahu, a Hassidic reggae singer. He has an interesting story to how he got his start, especially the elements reggae music as being rooted in religion, and how he rediscovered his faith and ultimately found his voice. A very uplifting and positive story of religion, a rare gem in this age of terrorism and war.
Food for thought, it might in part explain the appeal that certain types of music has, feeding off the creative energy that the musician taps into, as well as the political and historical roots of the music itself. Reggae, Hip-hop, and Jazz all fall into this category well, in expressing the struggles of race, class, and culture, not necessarily in that order, or course. And like popular music and culture, the true message and meaning has the tendency to get lost as the medium gets popularized and commercialized.
The analogy can be made in the watering down and commercialization of music today by the big recording companies. The artist as a preacher/prophet sending the message, the fan base as the flock of the faithful, all searching for inspiration, answers to life’s questions, perception, a connection with other human beings, a heartbeat, a soul. It starts of simply, humbly, a lone song heard on a street corner, surrounded by poverty. As people are drawn to the message they are willing to travel far and wide to hear more, and are willing to pay to hear more. Eventually as enough people are drawn to the message, an bureacracy forms to administer and better market the message, the sole purpose of this entitity is to consolidate the marketplace of ideas and maximize the profits in number of converts/customers. Inevitably, the organization soldifies and classifies the “message” in the form of credentials and rituals, divides the faithful and the ultra-faithful. In the end the corporate interests subplant any truth or rightousness in the original message and it is mass produced in instructional dating videotapes and top 40 music stations. With an insatiable appetite for more followers and the means to gain additional converts, the organization infultrates other social institutions as a means for poltical and social influence. Campaign contributions and political action groups are formed, and wars are waged both abroad and at home.
At the root of this mess is the over-emphasis on transcendence from the rest of humanity as just another excuse of obtaining an elitist view of the world, when maybe what we really need is the realization how interconnected we all are. There is a tendancy to associate anything human in nature as being inherantly evil, essentially denying who and what we really are in exchange for the elitist illusion that we are better than the non-believer or sinner.
The price to pay of this illusory elitism is the constant fear of those lessers around you who you are now convinced wish to harm you with their dirty human nature. So we trade a life of unknown in the afterlife for a life of fear in the present.
Sounds more like a hell of one’s own creation to me.