Is "Sing" Really Something to Sing About?

Will I ever get tired of pointing out the fallacies about love and relationships in modern pop music? Probably not. Our ideas of love are integral to our understanding of who we are as human beings, as individuals, couples, families, and communities. In that light, cultivating a proper understanding of love is one of the most important evangelical missions of the 21st century, as emphasized by Pope Saint John Paul II in his extensive work on the "theology of the body". (Isn't it nice to be able to officially call him "saint"? I couldn't resist the opportunity.) This is why I was disappointed with Ed Sheeran's newest single "Sing" (2014), from his upcoming album x, especially after the beautiful honesty and simplicity of his song "Lego House". On a musical level, I was sadly surprised to hear Sheeran abandon his folk-pop sound for the more R&B music stylings of Justin Timberlake. Rather than developing and embracing his signature sound, Sheeran has opted to make himself a musical carbon copy of artists who have already defined and diluted over a decade's worth of pop music. This seems to me to be a musical step backwards, but I don't know anything about music so my opinion is probably moot. What is more troublesome to me is the parallel descent in lyrical content that seems to accompany the musical backsliding. Rather than continuing to explore the depth and intricacy of loving relationships, Sheeran chooses to rehash the same club drivel as everyone else; the only twist is that he's honest about the dancing: "All the guys in here don't really want to dance".

The poet's romantic notions stumble all over the place as he relates his attempts to convince a woman he has met in a club to "love" him. In this case, the word "love" can pretty much be defined as "engage in sexual intercourse with". Opportunities for intellectual, emotional, or personal intimacy are almost non-existent, and the emphasis is on the narcissistic attitude of the poet's sexual desire. The two meet in the back of a club (or maybe a homegrown rave; for simplicity's sake, I'm going to just say "club") where the woman is sitting and drinking tequila from a water bottle. The poet, perhaps humorously, states that he knew she was "the one" because of her generosity in sharing the tequila with him after only just learning his name. Sharing tequila may be the basis for many sexual liaisons, but I doubt it's the secret formula for discovering long-lasting relationships built on mutual respect. The poet then decides to shirk all of his responsibilities (he is supposed to remain sober enough to drive himself home) in order to sit with this woman and wait for her to begin feeding his sexual desire, which happens in due course: "One thing led to another / And now she's kissing my mouth". Of course, the "one thing" that led to "another" was not scintillating conversation, the discovery of likeness in another human being, a frank discussion of life goals and dreams, an invitation to develop the relationship further in different contexts with a mind to futurity and permanence. No, the "one thing" that led to "another" was alcohol. The song's lyrics could read: "We got drunk enough that, if I just sat and waited, your lack of inhibition would eventually give me sexual satisfaction." That would be honest lyric-writing, and be just as distasteful as this entire situation actually is.

Did the lyrics have to go this way? Does the thumping bass-line need to be overwrought with sexy, heavy breathing and falsetto "oohs" and "ahs"? Did this song need to be about sex? It had actually given itself the opportunity to be about something deeper. The poet finds the woman sitting alone in the back of the club, hiding with her tequila, avoiding the dancing that would be expected of her in such an environment. The poet could have asked her why she has removed herself from the spotlight, why she chooses to sit alone. He could have engaged her in a conversation in which they might have discovered something deep about each other and developed a friendship based on like-minded attitudes that may have even inspired a romance. Instead, the poet sits with her either in awkward silence or spouting meaningless one-liners: "I don't really know what I'm supposed to say / But I can just figure it out and hope and pray". Hope and pray for what? That he'll somehow hit on the magic conjunction of syllables that will grant him access to her body? The poet says that "we got nothing to say and nothing to know". How can this be possible? Wouldn't the true lover be hungry to know everything about the beloved? Would he not cherish every word she speaks and desire to tell her everything about himself, what he thinks and feels and dreams about? Instead, the poet reveals his only intentions when he says: "I don't wanna know / If you're getting ahead of the program / I just want you to be mine, lady / To hold your body close". He has no desire to know what she thinks or feels; he doesn't even want to know if she is on board with his plan for the evening or not. She, as a thinking, feeling individual, does not matter to him at all. All he desires is her body.

There is nothing more going on in the poet's mind than the fulfillment of sexual desire, a desire he knows is extremely limited in scope: "This love is a blaze / I saw flames from the side of the stage / And the fire brigade comes in a couple of days". The "love" of sexual desire that the poet experiences will be quenched in a short amount of time, in "a couple of days" at most. His desire for this particular woman will be extinguished, regardless of whether he has sex with her or not. Rather than attempt to squelch his selfish desire to use this woman as a tool for his transitory pleasure and allow time to drown the flames of his sexual drive, he purposely distances himself from her person, keeping her at arm's length spiritually while encouraging her to get closer physically. He demands her to prove her "love" by getting "involved" with him, but the poet doesn't desire her love or personal involvement with him at all. He desires her to feel the rush of sexual desire and to allow their bodies to be intimately "involved" with each other for a brief space of time that night. This is what he is asking her for, this is what he is demanding of her ("If you love me, come on, get involved"), and he co-opts the words of love and relationship in order to do so. It's no wonder so many of us are jaded about the idea of "love". With this kind of rhetoric being employed in order to use other human beings as instruments of sexual stimulation, any idea of romance is bound to become tainted.

This is not a particularly modern or North American endemic, of course. It is part of the fallen human condition that we subject ourselves to our passions and often work toward selfish fulfillment at the expense of others. It is a part of our condition that we have to make a conscious effort to struggle against in order to live a truly fulfilling and fully human life. The abuse of love will always be a part of our human experience in the world, but it is important that we are aware of it and constantly push back against that urge in ourselves and in others. Ironically, the poet himself  gives perhaps the best advice possible to the object of his desire: "Take another step into the no-man's land". Although I'm sure this isn't what he meant, stepping into a land free from the negative influence of this man in particular, or even just putting oneself into a frame of mind free from the selfish priorities of either side, is exactly the kind of movement that would put an end to the foolishness being perpetuated in this song.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

"Beowulf": the Virtues of Kingship

Kings play an important role in the Anglo-Saxon epic poem known as Beowulf, the only extant copy of which exists in a late 10th-century manuscript popularly known as the Nowell codex. There are at least seventeen kings mentioned in the poem, covering a wide range of Scandinavian and Germanic tribes and traditions, but only three are given the epithet of gód cyning, or"good king": Shield Sheafson, Hrothgar of the Danes, and Beowulf. It may not be much of a surprise to readers to discover that the eponymous hero of the poem is named "good king" along with these two lesser -- and somewhat less impressive -- characters, but Beowulf's good kingship is at first far from assured, and his heroic end in the fight against the dragon still generates much controversy as to whether his kingship deserves the title of "good". Much of the early part of Beowulf's story is concerned with teaching him what it means to be a good king, what it means to lead, to protect, to provide, and essentially to father an entire people, through the positive and negative examples provided him in the leadership of other kings. The discussion of the virtues inherent in kingship in Beowulf points to an entire philosophy of leadership that is as poignant today as it has ever been.

The first king given the title "good" is Shield Sheafson (Scyld Scefing), the mysterious founder of the Danish dynasty which will one day be plagued by the attacks of the monster Grendel. The source of Shield's "goodness" as a king can be found in the very meaning of his name: his first name, Shield, denotes his role as protector of his people, while his second name, "son of the sheaf", symbolically points to his ability to provide for his people's needs. Protection and providence are two necessary ingredients of good leadership. A king must be a protector: he must defend his people from all sorts of evil, whether it is from enemy attacks, monsters, civil wars, or feuds. He must also be a provider: he must ensure the prosperity of his people by distributing wealth, putting resources to good use, making just laws, and providing stability for the nation. Shield accomplishes this primarily through his strength of arms and his prowess in battle: "There was Shield Sheafson, scourge of many tribes, / a wrecker of mead-benches, rampaging among foes. / ... In the end each clan on the outlying coasts / beyond the whale-road had to yield to him / and began to pay tribute. That was one good king." Through war, Shield is able to force the surrounding tribes to serve him and his people through the payment of tribute, and a stable peace is formed through Shield's dominance over others. Although to the modern mind his tactics might seem barbaric, Shield is a good king because he ensures both the protection and prosperity of his people. By fathering a son, Shield also works to ensure stability for his people by providing them with a future leader who will follow in his father's footsteps to ensure peace and prosperity. Shield can die in peace, knowing that he has done all that could be asked of him for his people.

Hrothgar (Hroðgar) is Shield's great-grandson and heir to the responsibility of protecting and providing for the Danish people. Hrothgar, however, does not rely primarily on feats of strength to accomplish this; instead, Hrothgar adds a new dimension to the quality of kingship by using wisdom and prudence as his tools for enacting responsible leadership. Although Hrothgar does not lack military capabilities and is a renowned warrior in his youth, he prefers to end hostilities without causing undue bloodshed by using the wealth of his nation as a method of keeping the peace. The Germanic tribes follow a scheme of blood-payment that often led to outbursts of internecine violence and generational feuding; in order to stave off such forms of instability, Hrothgar would pay a wergild or "man-price" to satiate the family of a murdered man. He does this most significantly for Beowulf's father Ecgtheow (Ecgþeow), who, even though he is a member of a different Germanic tribe known as Geats, finds sanctuary in the hall of Hrothgar and is saved from certain death by the generosity of this good king. This generosity proves itself to be both wise and prudent on Hrothgar's part when it is out of a sense of gratitude that Beowulf himself will come to save Hrothgar from the threat of Grendel. Wisdom and prudence, then, become the second tier in the structure of good leadership. Protection and providence provide the foundation upon which both wisdom and prudence can foster positive growth and stability within the nation. Even though Hrothgar is unable to defeat Grendel by his own strength and must rely on the physical prowess of the hero Beowulf, his great wisdom ensures that "there was no laying of blame on their lord, / the noble Hrothgar; he was a good king".

Before looking into the characteristics of the "good" kingship of Beowulf himself, it is important to also examine the one king who is considered definitively bad. Hrothgar warns Beowulf about the bad kingship and evil end of the king Heremod, who is betrayed, ambushed, and killed by the will of his own people for his mistreatment of them. The bard who sings of the great deeds of the hero Sigemund as an encomium for Beowulf's defeat of Grendel also mentions Heremod and speaks ominously of him with the final phrase: "evil entered into Heremod" (hine fyren onwód). This almost echoes the language used regarding Judas Iscariot in the Gospel of John: "then Satan entered into him" (tunc introivit in illum Satanas). In a sense, King Heremod becomes the traitor to his kingship and to his people through his evil actions, his lack of care for his people, and particularly his selfishness. Hrothgar tells Beowulf: "He vented his rage on men he caroused with, / killed his own comrades, a pariah king / who cut himself off from his own kind, / even though Almighty God had made him / eminent and powerful and marked him from the start / for a happy life. But a change happened, / he grew bloodthirsty, gave no more rings / to honour the Danes. He suffered in the end / for having plagued his people for so long: / his life lost happiness." Heremod had every opportunity to be a good king, it seems, but he traded wisdom and prudence for drunkenness and anger; he forgot the protection and prosperity he was meant to uphold, instead being a scourge to his own nation and denying them their rightful goods. King Heremod is the description of the perfect tyrant, the one who uses his kingship not for the good of others, but for the good of himself. His greed for individual wealth and dominance leads to his loss of happiness and, ultimately, his life. The spiritual dimension is also implied, as "evil entered into him" and he "cut himself off from his own kind". He is no longer living a human life, but a demonic one.

Thus Beowulf's kingship will assert itself in the shadows of these three kings, two good and one bad. Shield's kingship rests on protection and providence, and Hrothgar's builds on that with wisdom and prudence, while Heremod falls into ruin through impetuous anger, greed, and the lust for dominance. Beowulf's kingdom, in order to incorporate the virtues of the good kings and avoid the vices of the bad, will be a kingdom built on the principle of self-sacrifice. Beowulf establishes the protection of his people firstly through his defeat of Onela the Swede, a king who has been a principal instigator of the Swedish-Geatish wars and had been responsible for the death of the young king Heardred, son of Beowulf's lord and predecessor of Beowulf himself. Despite the fact that Heardred's death made it possible for Beowulf to claim the throne, the hero recognizes the danger of Onela's kingship and helps to end it. The next fifty years of Beowulf's reign are peaceful due to his reputation as the man who single-handedly defeated both Grendel and Grendel's mother. Through his heroic deeds as a young man, Beowulf is able to promote peace and demand tribute from other nations without having to resort to any more violence, neatly combining the lessons learned from both Shield and Hrothgar. He learns from the story of Heremod to be a blessing to his people rather than a plague: "Thus Beowulf bore himself with valour; / he was formidable in battle yet behaved with honour / and took no advantage; never cut down / a comrade who was drunk, kept his temper / and, warrior that he was, watched and controlled / his God-sent strength and his outstanding / natural powers." He devotes himself to developing a deep habit of self-control that allows him to give his best for others, rather than give in to the urge to dominate others through his natural strength and ability. Rather than letting evil enter him, as Heremod did, Beowulf acts solely for the good of others. It is this self-denial that allows him to generously exchange his life for the runaway slave who steals a cup from a sleeping dragon and wakes its fury; in order to end the dragon's destruction, Beowulf goes to meet it and "settle the feud", to take the punishment meant for the slave onto himself. His defeat of the dragon ensures that his people will prosper from the treasure freed from the dragon's barrow. In his death, Beowulf can say with confidence: "I took what came, / cared for and stood by things in my keeping, / never fomented quarrels, never / swore to a lie. All this consoles me, / doomed as I am and sickening for death; / because of my right ways, the Ruler of mankind / need never blame me when the breath leaves my body / for murder of kinsmen."

Protection, providence, wisdom, prudence, and self-sacrifice: each of these virtues works to build up a vision of kingship on which historical leaders could model themselves. The vicious behavior and ignoble end of Heremod serve as a warning to the logical outcomes of abusing the power of the king through greed and violence. Ultimately, the power of the king is a mode of service through which the community is given peace, prosperity, and stability through the self-giving work of the man called to take upon himself the mantle of such authority. It would be a decent lesson for modern man, in whatever leadership position he might have or aspire to, to consider the role of such kings in order to "understand true values", as Hrothgar says. Imagine what society might look like if world leaders, CEOs, teachers, and parents all embraced this understanding! As a favorite authority figure of mine once said, "With great power comes great responsibility." Beowulf teaches us that leadership is first and foremost a service, only secondarily a path to glory, and never a means of self-aggrandizement.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Is "Not a Bad Thing" a Bad Thing?

Justin Timberlake's song "Not a Bad Thing", from his 2013 album The 20/20 Experience -- 2 of 2, is perhaps gaining more fame through its use as the backdrop to a documentary journey in which filmmakers search for a couple who apparently got engaged to the song on a train to New York. Honestly, I got bored, so I stopped watching the video, but one thing that stood out to me from it was one of the first statements from the filmmakers, who claimed that the love shown between these two mysterious people on the train just doesn't happen: "You never see that!" Obviously, they have never looked up any surprise engagement videos on Youtube. If they had, they would realize that the whole internet community gets to see this all the time. I'm not trying to belittle the couple on the train in any way; they're in love, they got engaged, and it was a beautiful moment for them and for those on the train who got to share it with them. However, this idea that we "never see" people in love with each other is a rather silly statement. I get to see that my parents and grandparents are very much in love with each other all the time; my sister and brother-in-law are very much in love; I see couples of all shapes and sizes and ages every day holding hands, sharing kisses, sharing food, doing little acts of kindness for the other, exchanging looks and smiles that exude love. Is it really that we "never see" love, or is that we're just not looking for it?

Maybe the truth is that we purposefully put blinders on our eyes so that we don't have to witness the joy of others. In our modern world of easy hookups and speed dating and one-night stands, our hearts have suffered from an unconscionable amount of disappointment, distress, and brokenness. At an earlier and earlier age, young people are discovering the downside of love, the pain and heartache that comes when you realize that the person who was the source of your joy has left an irreparable hole in your life. We spend so much of our lives trying to seal that wound shut with other people, but the hole becomes more and more ragged as those people continue to tear themselves away. Our hearts get heavier, weighed down with the baggage of the past and the fears of the future, oozing suspicion, pessimism, and regret. We begin to despair of ever finding love and experiencing the joy that is its fruit. We become afraid of getting too attached for fear of being hurt; we avoid labels like "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" so that, when things fall apart, we can comfort ourselves by saying there wasn't really a "thing" there to begin with; we date for years on end, afraid to take the plunge into marriage in case that other shoe just happens to drop. We become jaded and bitter, berating the opposite sex for not living up to our expectations, and vilifying fairy tales for building up those expectations to apparently insurmountable heights. We conclude that love is an illusion, as much a fairy tale as princesses and dragons, and that the only constants are the sexual drive and the economic system. Love is nothing more than an instinctual mating call wrapped in roses, diamonds, and candlelight to make us feel better about its emptiness.

No wonder we can't seem to "see" love anywhere. In an effort to protect ourselves, we've gouged our eyes out.

In a world where we hesitate to even say "I love you" for fear of crossing that sacred threshold that will make us both vulnerable to and responsible for another person, that word "love" has almost become a negative moniker, a thing to be sneered at and derided, a state of mind only indulged in by the young and naive, the foolish and unenlightened. Falling in love is a bad thing because it makes your happiness dependent on another person; dependency can only be a bad thing, subjecting you to the whims of another. To be an autonomous island who is responsible for nothing and no one but oneself, so the thinking goes, is the only way to exist contentedly. And I guess that's true, if "content" is all you want to be in this life. But what about being overjoyed? What about overflowing with happiness? What about dancing in the streets and singing in the rain? What about getting engaged on trains, and being so happy you can't help but burst into tears? Is "content" all we really want to be? Or do we want to be fully, deeply, and passionately alive, in love with the world and everyone in it, embracing this one life we have on earth for all that it has to offer, regardless of the vulnerability or the pain? Isn't that the only kind of life that's really worth living?

Timberlake's song "Not a Bad Thing" works to convince the beloved to discard the negative ideas surrounding love in order to remember that love is a good, in fact, the highest good. True love is the most beautiful and joyous thing that exists anywhere at any time. It is the thing that makes us worthy of immortality, of eternal life, of eternal joy. And the poet reminds the beloved of this by pointing to that very idea of "forever" that is inherent in any idea of true love. True love must be forever. The words "break up" or "divorce" cannot exist in the vocabulary of true love. The poet tells the beloved: "all I want from you is to see you tomorrow / And every tomorrow ... / ... is it too much to ask for every Sunday / And while we're at it, throw in every other day". Permanence is an essential part of love that cannot be abrogated or denied. The poet attempts to persuade the beloved that love is something she can trust in, that she can depend on. The poet's love will be true and reliable; his promises will not be broken. The only thing the poet desires is the beloved's person; the only thing the beloved need do is accept this freely given love.

"Not a Bad Thing" emphasizes the fact that love is essentially an act of faith. Just like with religious faith, there is no quantifiable, scientific, material proof that can be offered to assure the beloved that the poet's love is a factual thing. The only way that the beloved can know that the poet's love exists is, first, by hearing his words of love to her and, second, by choosing to trust him, by believing that what he says is true. In the same way that the secular world has denied faith as something that can legitimately be demanded of a person in the realm of supernatural relations, it has also denied that exact same possibility in the realm of human relations. No one can be trusted; no one can be believed. Love is impossible. The only way this can be overcome is by making ourselves vulnerable again, by choosing to trust and to believe that love is a possibility, that it is not something we "never see". In this case, as in the case for religion, seeing can never be believing; believing is the only way by which we can see.

Justin Timberlake's song has been compared to his earlier work with boy band 'N Sync because of its almost syrupy-sweet, bubblegum pop quality. The song is reminiscent of love ballads like "This I Promise You" and "(God Must Have Spent) A Little More Time on You", which tends almost to give it less credibility in many people's eyes. But these are exactly the kind of songs we need to start taking seriously. These are the songs that reveal to us the essence of love, the reality of it that goes beyond our personal insecurities, failures, and letdowns. These songs remind us to take the blinders off, turn our hearts of stone back into hearts of flesh, and take that leap of faith that is needed to truly see that true love can never be a bad thing.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Does "Loyal" Have Anything to do with Loyalty?

Chris Brown's single "Loyal" (2013), from the upcoming album X (2014), is a horrendous
collaboration of colorful language -- racist, misogynistic, degrading, and indecent -- bemoaning the fact that it's impossible to trust women to remain loyal when there are always better offers out there. Along with the added lyrics offered by Lil Wayne and French Montana (East Coast version; there are two other versions of the song featuring other artists), I don't feel comfortable even quoting the majority of the song in this post, so I'll be paraphrasing to get their points across. One may wonder why, if the song is so offensive, I would bother devoting so much time and energy to it. Wouldn't it be better to just ignore it and move on, rather than give it the attention it doesn't deserve? Well, I guess I believe that we can learn important lessons even from the painful and degrading dregs of our human experience -- even Chris Brown's. So let's dive into this waste heap of toxic humanity and see what we can find, shall we?

I think the first thing we should establish is that this song has nothing whatsoever to do with Chris Brown's onetime relationship with Rhianna. After all, it took sixteen writers to bring this lyrical behemoth to birth, and Chris Brown only ranks third in the list of contributors, making it highly unlikely that this song was initially inspired by anything Rhianna may or may not have done in their relationship. Besides, the lyrics to the song vociferously claim that poor women cannot be trusted to be loyal in their relationships because of their desire to gain financial security through wealthy men. I think it's safe to say that Rhianna is not being alluded to here, since I'm pretty sure she is perfectly capable of independently funding each and every one of her worldly desires herself. I would bet Rhianna is not suffering in any financial way, shape, or form from being a single woman. Now that we've got that misconception out of the way, let's look seriously at the lack of loyalty the artists involved in this song are whining and complaining about.

But perhaps a second misconception needs to be debunked before we can really attack the heart of the problem being wrestled with in "Loyal". We may need to let go of the idea that this song has anything to do with loyalty as such. In order to make any claims to loyalty in an intimate relationship between a man and a woman, the idea of love must necessarily be conceived of as a true and complete gift of self. If the relationship between man and woman lacks this idea of love, there can be no foundation for mutual loyalty within the relationship. If the intimacy between man and woman is considered nothing more than an exchange of goods, the woman exchanging access to her body for increased social status and financial gain, and the man exchanging his wealth for sexual satisfaction, then neither party can make any "loyalty" claims on the other. When sexual satisfaction ends, so does the exchange; when social or financial status declines, so does the exchange. The only "loyalty" that is demanded in this conception of intimate relationships is that between business partners: as long as the relationship is mutually beneficial, it will be respected. As soon as it stops being beneficial for either party, neither are obliged to keep it. Since this is exactly the kind of relationship the poet is referring to, the idea that loyalty is something he can legitimately demand on these terms is nonsensical.

This conception of the relationship between men and women is far from a modern phenomenon. It hovers in the background of every one of Jane Austen's novels and shows itself blatantly in Chaucer's "Wife of Bath's Prologue and Tale", and the Greeks were certainly familiar with it if Lysistrata holds any weight. The degradation of the marital union into an exchange of things instead of a gift of persons has been a longstanding enemy of true love between the sexes since the dawn of time, and has brought many abuses of love to birth in adultery, divorce, pornography, prostitution, and rape. In this light, "Loyal" stops having anything to do with loyalty as such within the marital relationship and everything to do with the way we view each other as men and women. As long as we keep viewing the other as a business partner and not the beloved, true intimacy and security in the marital relationship will be impossible to achieve. As long as love is rendered part of an "economy", it will always be subject to the ebb and flow of "market values". As long as this system stands, every woman will be nothing more than a prostitute, and every man nothing more than a john. Rather than addressing this issue and crying out for real love, the poet chooses to sulk like a child and lash out with an inherently misogynistic tirade that only serves to entrench more deeply the very abuse of love that causes the poet's complaint in the first place. Rather than rejecting the consumerist view of sexual intimacy, the poet chooses to throw away marriage, fidelity, dignity, and love altogether in favor of an openly hostile environment of objectification and power struggles that Nietzsche would be proud of. The poet embraces his objectification as nothing more than a source of cash for money-hungry women, and in turn promotes the objectification of women as nothing more than prostitutes.

The objectification on both sides leads to resentment and outright hatred for the opposite sex, which is evident in almost every line of this train wreck as women are referred to in the most degrading of terms. Despite all the macho posturing  and flaunting of wealth referred to in these lyrics (Louis Vuitton, Hermes, Dolce and Gabbana, mink coats, the wealthy Bay area of San Francisco, bottle service, and a lot of marijuana), what is revealed in the heart of this song is a deep-seated fear of being inadequate and a resentment against women for making men feel this way. Rather than finding security in his accumulated personal property, the poet reinforces his misogyny by using his money to buy the so-called loyalty of married women. All three of the collaborators in this song make mention of women taking off their rings or disregarding them in order to allow rich men to have intimate access to them. Lil Wayne says that "she ain't have her ringer or her ring on last night", which allowed him to take the place of the absent husband because of his greater wealth and sexual prowess. Chris Brown scolds women for bringing their husbands with them to the club where he is since he has a lot of money to throw around in exchange for their dancing, a euphemism that quickly dissolves into sexual access. He throws the symbolic fidelity of the wedding ring in the husband's face by tell him that his investment in it was worthless; he has been replaced by someone who can give her more expensive rings. The husband's personal investment in their marital relationship means nothing. French Montana makes the degradation of the "economic exchange" most obvious when, after having been intimate with a woman, he takes back his own property by putting his mink coat back on, while telling the woman to "put a ring back on". The relationship based on economic exchange always devolves into use and abuse; the woman does not gain her financial security despite giving herself. The man has received all he wanted and the contract is broken. She can "put her ring back on" and renew her previous contract with a less satisfying partner. Just as her former contract was easily broken when a better prospect came along, the poet's current contract is broken when he no longer requires the services rendered. When men and women stop being persons in each other's eyes, when the beloved becomes an object, there can be no love but self-love.

The end result of this mess is a generation of men who abuse women out of a fear of being abused in turn. The fear of being inadequate, of being hurt by the beloved, causes the poet to close himself off from any true intimacy or personal investment. A gift of self requires vulnerability, and this personal vulnerability is too risky. It's a bad investment. Lil Wayne asks why he should give his heart to a woman who would rather have money, or why he should involve himself physically with a woman who will willingly be seduced by the very next virile male to come along. He makes a good point: men shouldn't give their hearts away to women who are not willing to make a reciprocal gift of themselves; they shouldn't get involved sexually with women who are not willing to commit themselves totally to the marital union. However, instead of removing himself from the objectification game, he chooses instead to remain within it and objectify in turn. He will continue to participate in these relationships with women, but he will leave his heart out of it; he will assume that the woman will be unfaithful from the get-go and resist any personal attachment to anything about her outside of coitus. French Montana shows where this initial decision leads in the end: "No relation, I don't chase 'em, I replace 'em". The sexual act becomes a faceless interchange of muscle spasms; men and women are relegated to bodies rather than persons, replaced as easily as cell phones; complete apathy takes the place of any notion of real erotic passion. In the end, the insistence on a lack of relationships in intrinsically relational beings brings out the worst in humanity, to the point that the poet says he doesn't know whether he will have sex with women or insult them, which in this case pretty much amounts to the same thing. Love and hate have become indistinguishable. The next logical step from here is violence.

So what does all this say to us? Ultimately, it reveals the complete wrongheadedness of thinking that any economic model for relationships between the sexes can be implemented with positive consequences. Forming relationships solely based on the goods to be exchanged can only lead to degradation and breakdown on the personal and interpersonal level, as the beloved is reduced to a mere object. Only the true and complete gift of self to the other as a beloved person can set the standard for fidelity in marriage and maintain the inherent dignity of both sexes. Otherwise, you'll turn out like Chris Brown. And that's a scary thought.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Guest Post! "Gilmore Girls: Choice and Wantedness"

I'm not exactly a television-show-type person. I don't own a TV and I don't have Netflix. I don't own the DVD collection of any television show -- except for the late 90s animated show
Batman Beyond because it was amazing, and I have a couple of episodes on DVD of Transformers Prime, a more recent animated wonder. I also own the He-Man and She-Ra Christmas Special. I am also an overgrown child. So, when it comes to "big people" TV shows, I'm a little behind the times. However, some people are not. So I thought it would be a nice opportunity to talk about TV shows and feature one of my favorite people in a blog post. So here is Rebecca Procure's take on an element of the show Gilmore Girls, re-posted with permission from her blog Catholic Ginger:

GILMORE GIRLS: CHOICE AND WANTEDNESS

Gilmore Girls is probably my favorite show. It premiered in 2000 and went off the air in 2007. On average, I re-watch all seven seasons once a year. Apparently, it is honesty hour on this here blog. Carrying on...

That is a weird way to start a post, I realize, but just go with me.

If you have never seen the show, it is about a mother, Lorelai, and her daughter, Rory, who are making their way in the small, eccentric community of Stars Hollow, Connecticut. Lorelai had Rory when she was 16. And even though it was 1985, and even though it is a full 12 years or so since the American Roe v. Wade decision legalizing abortion, Lorelai chose to keep her baby. She chose to keep the baby even with enormous pressure, and she chose to keep the baby and raise it on her own, without the help of her wealthy parents.

And she and Rory thrived.

Christopher's parents, Rory's paternal grandparents, were unsupportive. They blamed Lorelai for getting pregnant and they suggested the best option would be an abortion. Not once did they express disappointment with Christopher impregnating Lorelai. Not once did they encourage him to own up to his responsibility. They blamed Lorelai and they encouraged her to abort.

In a flashback scene, Emily (Lorelai's mother) and Straub (Christopher's father) go toe-to-toe on the subject:

EMILY: Christopher is just as much to blame as Lorelai is.
STRAUB: Like hell he is.
EMILY: They are in this together.
STRAUB: I don't see why. Why should Christopher sacrifice everything we've planned for him just because --
EMILY: Choose your words extremely carefully, Straub.
FRANCINE: Emily, you know we love Lorelai, you know that. But Christopher's so young, he's a baby.
EMILY: Well, Lorelai's not exactly collecting social security.
STRAUB: Why doesn't she get rid of it?
EMILY: What?
FRANCINE: Straub.
STRAUB: It's an option.
EMILY: It certainly is not an option.
STRAUB: Why not?
EMILY: Because I say so. (Gilmore Girls, Sn. 3, Ep. 13: "Dear Emily and Richard")

And, although Lorelai isn't directly part of this conversation, her opinion is no different:

LORELAI: I know we're all upset here, folks, but maybe we should ask the kids what they think. Lorelai, Christopher, anything to add here?
CHRISTOPHER: Quiet, they'll hear you.
LORELAI: Not likely. I don't know how much longer I can just sit here like this.
CHRISTOPHER: It's okay, let them talk.
LORELAI: They're talking about us.
CHRISTOPHER: They're trying to figure out what to do.
LORELAI: What to do with our lives -- our lives! Yours, mine, and... its." [Emphasis mine]

Both Lorelai and Emily recognized the inherent personhood of Lorelai's unborn child. Rory, although unplanned and inconvenient, was still a person worthy of life in both their eyes.

In a different episode, Season 1, Episode 15: "Christopher Returns", when we first meet Christopher and his parents, Straub and Francine, the following exchange takes place:

STRAUB: If you had attended university as your parents had planned and as we had planned in vain for Christopher, you might have aspired to something more than a blue collar position. [In reference to Lorelai stating she runs an inn and is happy in how her life turned out]
CHRISTOPHER: Don't do this.
STRAUB: And I wouldn't give a damn about you derailing your life if you hadn't swept my son along with you.
LORELAI: [to Rory] Honey, go into the next room. Go, go.
RICHARD: I'm going to have to echo Christopher's call for civility here. A mutual mistake was made many years ago by these two, but they have come a long way since.
STRAUB: A mutual mistake, Richard? This whole evening is ridiculous. We're supposed to sit here like one big, happy family and pretend that the damage that was done is over, gone? I don't care about how good a student you say that girl is --
LORELAI: Hey!
STRAUB: Our son was bound for Princeton. Every Hayden male attended Princeton, including myself, but it all stopped with Christopher. It's a humiliation we've had to live with every day, all because you seduced him into ruining his life. She had that baby and ended his future.

Again we are seeing Christopher's parents, who, even 16 years later, are still blaming Lorelai and Rory for how Christopher's life turned out. They view Rory as unwanted and don't acknowledge that Christopher, as it is alluded to over the course of the show, was hardly in Rory's life. Christopher's parents are looking to blame someone and don't hold their own son accountable, even though he wasn't in Rory's life, so Rory did not prevent him from going to Princeton.

But I have strayed off the point. In the "Christopher Returns" episode, we see Rory's existence reaffirmed by both her mother and grandmother. They confirm her wantedness:

EMILY: None of this means anything, Rory.
RORY: Oh, I know.
EMILY: ... Rory, I know you heard a lot of talk about various disappointments this evening, and I know you've heard a lot of talk about it in the past. But I want to make this very clear: you, young lady, your person and your existence have never, ever been -- not even for a second -- included in that list. Do you understand me?

...

RORY: They don't even want to know me, do they?
LORELAI: That is not true. They are just so full of anger and stupid pride that stands in the way of them realizing how much they want to know you.
RORY: Yeah.
LORELAI: Their loss, and it's a pretty big one.
RORY: I'm going to bed now.
LORELAI: Hey. No regrets -- from me or your dad.

Lorelai chose life for Rory because she was wanted. Lorelai acknowledged her personhood from the beginning and, even though it was inconvenient and the pressure from Christopher's parents was loud, and even though her own parents were disappointed, she wanted Rory, so she kept her.

But does that really define a fetus? Is an unborn child only a person if they are wanted? Why does a wanted child have more rights than an unwanted, unborn child? Even Abby Johnson, in her book Unplanned, reflected on the difference. While working at Planned Parenthood, she referred to unborn children as fetuses and medical waste, but, while she herself was pregnant, Abby referred to her fetus as a baby.

But fetuses are all the same. A fetus is always an unborn child. From the moment of conception, the only potential that fetus has is whether or not it becomes a female child or a male child. But it always is and always will be human.

Whether or not a child is wanted doesn't affect its inherent dignity and its indisputable personhood.

This is why abortion is such a travesty. It kills innocent children. That is all it does. Abortion kills.

Anyone who looks can find a person who would turn an unwanted child to a wanted child through adoption. Adoption is a hard choice, but there are far less complications and risks with adoption than with abortion. And adoption always brings joy to the people who choose it.

The real "war on choice" comes from people who dismiss adoption as a viable option.

The real "war on choice" comes from people who dismiss science, evidence, and growing public opinion that life begins at conception. Who arbitrarily decide that a person is only a person if it is wanted, or only if it was conceived in ideal circumstances.

Adoption is a real choice. It is a loving, selfless choice; it is everything abortion isn't. It creates wanted children because every child is a wanted child. Sometimes a family is not made by blood, but by choice.

Choosing life creates families; choosing abortion kills them.

View the original post @ catholicginger.wordpress.com

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Is "Best Day of My Life" Really the Best?

"Best Day of My Life", from the debut album Oh, What a Life (2013) by American Authors, is an upbeat, catchy indie song that provides a lyrical basis for what might be considered a "best day" for any young person or aspiring rock band: dreams coming true, spending time with friends, staying out all night. You get the idea. It's nothing very new or radical. What interested me about this song was the strange combination of images: monsters and the moon and dreams, on the one hand, and the sun, the soul, and epiphanies on the other. It's a strange gamut of symbols, and the audience isn't quite sure whether they're supposed to be set in opposition to each other or work together somehow. Is the sun the enemy to the monsters and the howling at the moon, or is it a friend who stays up till midnight to party with all the other stars? Is the idea of dreaming an attempt to escape from reality or is the reality of life so good that it's being likened to a dream? The lyrics puzzled me, so I thought I'd take a closer look.

I was first interested in the use of monster imagery. As I'm sure we're all aware, the supernatural and the unnatural have been taking up a rather large portion of the pop culture imagination over the past decade or so, from the increased interest in the fantasy and superhero genres to the vampires, werewolves, zombies, and dragons we see cropping up around every corner. Even the supernatural imagery of the Bible, via blockbuster films like Noah (2014) and the forthcoming Exodus (2014), is feeding this popular desire for something beyond the merely normal and rational, beyond the urban and mundane. There is a current within the human imagination that is searching after something beyond us, and not only beyond us. We are searching for something beyond us that surges through us and sweeps us up into its otherworldly existence. Bella is the object of desire of both vampires and werewolves; she is their center. Magic courses through the veins of seemingly "normal" Muggles who turn out to be wizards. Seemingly ordinary Hobbits "carry the fate of us all". Supernatural abilities are bestowed on Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, and Hal Jordan; Clark Kent discovers he is Superman; Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark become more than merely human; mutants are born. Even the horror of zombies involves a fascination with being "the survivor", the one who beats the odds, the super-man. In amongst the fascination with the supernatural is a desire to be the focus of all the supernatural activity. The Force flows through you.

Why the interest in the supernatural, in the monstrous? Why do we "stretch our hands out to the sky" for the aliens, the heroes, the monsters to come and take us? Why do we desire to "dance with monsters through the night" and "howl at the moon with friends"? We are creatures ordered towards something beyond ourselves, something great and mysterious, ultimately, to God. Whether we acknowledge it or not, as human beings we are hardwired for religion, for worship, for contact with the Divine. In our secular, materialistic world, we are not provided many opportunities for fulfilling this part of ourselves, this longing for participation in mystery. Stories of magic and gods and heroes and monsters that willingly interact with us, for better or for worse, aims to put something into that empty space inside us that God should fill. We are searching for the mystery of God; we respond to the mystery of the unnatural or supernatural. We desire it, as well as the things that stand for it, like the night and the moon. These images are much more mysterious because they are shrouded in darkness, in veils of the unknown; thus, we enter into mystery. Every act of cultic behavior is a response to our natural desire to be in communion with something beyond ourselves and beyond the natural scope of reality.

What I found most interesting about the way this idea is portrayed in "Best Day of My Life" is the development of the theme throughout the stanzas. The first stanza initiates the theme of dreaming. It is in the dream rather than the reality that the poet "jumped so high I touched the clouds"; he leaves the earth, the natural world, behind to enter into a different landscape, a different mode of reality. This is where the poet can meet with monsters: "I stretched my hands out to the sky / I danced with monsters through the night". In looking up and out beyond the confines of nature, the poet can meet with the supernatural and "dance" with them, form a communion with them. This is the dream from which the poet does not want to be woken, this mystic experience of participation in something beyond the self, beyond the natural. This is the best day of his life.

Something interesting happens in the second stanza, however. As the poet "howled at the moon with friends", "the sun came crashing in". The idea of howling at the moon tends to take on two different meanings in our idiomatic language. On the one hand, to "howl at the moon" can mean "to enjoy oneself without restraint". According to this definition, the sun can be seen as an enemy of the pleasures of the night. When the sun imposes itself on us, when the daylight of reality comes back into our lives, the dream is over, the fun is over, and the humdrum world comes back into focus. On the other hand, another idiomatic use of "howling at the moon" is to chase after something unattainable, to cry out to something that has no capability of answering. In this sense, the sun crashing in puts an end to the useless crying to something that cannot answer; it puts an end to chasing after the unattainable. In this sense, the sun itself provides something attainable and responsive. The brightness of the moon, after all, is only a reflection of the radiance of the sun. According to this rendering of the idiom, the poet was only chasing after a reflection of the true mystic experience in his dances with monsters and his communion with the night. The true mystical presence is experienced when the Sun comes crashing in. The poet seems to support this last reading of the lyrics with the following lines: "But all the possibilities / No limits, just epiphanies". The sun does not render the cultic impulse null and void; it does not impose limits on the unrestrained joy of the poet. In fact, it provides "epiphanies" that the moon and the night did not. An epiphany can refer to any sudden insight or revelation, but most specifically it refers to the manifestation of a deity. In an epiphany, God makes Himself manifest, He reveals Himself to humanity. In this sense, the sudden appearance of the Sun, the "crashing" into our lives of God Himself, is a moment of epiphany. In amongst all the longing for communion with the supernatural in all of the cultic impulses in all places throughout the world, even in our post-modern, materialist, secularist, rational, 21st century urban center of the universe, God reveals Himself in answer to our desire for Him. When it is time to wake from the dream, the reality will be even better than we could have imagined.

The final stanza brings this spiritual dimension into play: "I hear it calling outside my window / I feel it in my soul". It is no longer the poet who searches for divinity, who reaches his hands up to the sky to pull mystery down to himself. Mystery and Divinity have come to him, are calling to him, are tugging at that empty space inside his soul, longing to fill it. It is now God Himself who invites the poet to communion, who says, "Come and dance with Me." The natural world has been changed, infused with the mystery of the supernatural: "The stars were burning so bright / The sun was out 'til midnight". The sun and stars are visible together; the light of epiphany and the darkness of mystery have met. And the poet's response to this is: "I say we lose control". When faced with the glory of Divinity, humanity loses itself in the dizzying joy of being swept up into the dance. We "lose control" over our lives and our destinies in the sense that we give over our entire beings to the One who, as Dante says at the end of his Divine Comedy, where he experiences himself the ecstasy of the Beatific Vision, "moves the sun and other stars". In the same way as Dante felt "my desire and my will / were being turned like a wheel", the poet feels his own human idea of self-will being given over to the One whose will is all. When the joy of the Divine Love is discovered, how can one do anything else but give up everything to chase after Him and join the dance?

Of course, this is just one interpolation of the lyrics to this song. And, according to that reading, it is definitely the "best day of my life". Naturally, this song could also just be about the excitement of achieving success as musicians in the modern music market. It could also simply describe the natural joys provided by the pleasures of this world in the presence of those friends who make life so worthwhile. Neither of these interpretations of the song would be inappropriate or "bad", to say the least. However, I wouldn't call them the "best" either.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Should We Turn Down "Turn Down for What"?

Do you mind if I take this opportunity to complain a little bit about music and lyrics? You don't? Okay, good, because I want to comment briefly on DJ Snake and Lil Jon's single "Turn Down for What" (2013). At first, I wasn't even going to bother with it because, let's face it, I'm interested in what people have to say and this song doesn't say anything, really. If you're interested in the lyrics, I'll post them here for you: "Fire up that loud / Another round of shots / Turn down for what". That's it. No joke. And I'm acting like I'm going to write a post about its meaning.

In all fairness, maybe I should point out that this song falls into the electronic/dance genre, so the argument may be made that the main point of the music is primarily dancing and not necessarily sending verbal messages. Its focus is on encouraging physical movement via the musical impetus provided by DJ Snake, so Lil Jon's addition via the lyrics is really just there as an added instrument and not as an appeal to any sort of rational communication. And I will admit openly that I have no appreciation for or comprehension of electronic, dance, dub, "trap", or any other other kind of music out there that emphasizes bass beats and whatever else is involved in producing the seething, sweating behemoth of modern clubs and after-hours raves. I am in many ways musically challenged, and I have off-beat, eclectic tastes, and I primarily enjoy individual songs for their lyrical content rather than for their musical qualities. So, if DJ Snake's music is good to dance to for those people who enjoy that kind of thing, that's wonderful. I guess my question is, if you just want to dance, then why do these kinds of songs need any lyrics whatsoever? If it's "all about the music", why don't you just let the music speak for itself? Classical music is "all about the music", and it gets along just fine without any lyrics whatsoever. Why can't this sort of electronic music do the same?

If we really want to look at the lyrics to "Turn Down for What", it is possible to actually say a couple of brief things about it. Before Lil Jon joined DJ Snake on this project, the only lyrical addition was the phrase "bang the underground". I'll leave it to your own interpretive skills to uncover the meaning of that one. Lil Jon, however, said that he wanted to make the song "hip and current", and the phrase "turn down for what" was what came to mind. With a few additional lyrics, the song had become "hip and current". So what is "hip and current" to Lil Jon's mind? Well, turning music up really loud and drinking a round of shots, that's what. And they'll turn down for what? ..... Nothing. The answer is nothing. They'll turn down for nothing. Nothing and nobody is going to make them turn the music down. Music and drinking is what is hip and current nowadays. It's not that different from what's been hip and current since the ancient Greeks, really. What might be a little bit different, however, is exactly that Nothing obliquely referred to by Lil Jon. The nothingness of the lyrics reflects the nothingness of what's hip and current, the nothingness of the kind of lifestyle that revolves around loud music and drinking, the nothingness of the kind of lifestyle that refuses to live for anything else. There is a great, big Nothing at the center of this song that reveals itself in the lack of meaning in the lyrics themselves. There is a stubborn desire to leave rationality and responsibility and reality behind in favor of the thoughtless, euphoric, chaotic lifestyle that is measured in individual experiences of pleasure rather than a unified life ordered to a purposive end. There is an escapist mentality that truly wants to believe that "nothing matters", that our actions can be separated from their natural consequences, that our lives can be freely shaped from moment to moment as we please, that doing what satisfies the senses is enough to satisfy the whole person. This is truly what is "current" and "hip" nowadays, and it is one of the most dangerous states of apathy one can possibly get into. As Josef Pieper brings out so profoundly in his essay on love, "The true antithesis of love is not hate but despairing indifference, the feeling that nothing is important. ... The radical attitude of 'not giving a damn' in fact is in some way related to the state of mind of the damned." This escapist fantasy, this wishful thinking that wants to reduce to "nothing" the most profound and meaningful created thing in existence, namely, the human person, treads on the path to damnation, where, in fact, this fantasy will become a reality. In Hell, you can truly become Nothing.

This isn't to say that electronic music is inherently bad or anything of the sort. But we do need to recognize that many genres of music -- pop, rap, rock, country, punk, even classical -- tend to get attached to a certain lifestyle. All of them create and promote and maintain an ideological lifestyle that many listeners, especially the young, identify with in the same way that they identify with the musical genre. The music becomes a mode of personal self-expression, and the lifestyle publicly reinforces it. This is a far from unfamiliar experience for most people, myself included. I've been a punk rock fan since high school, and I wore the black eyeliner and studs and chains and safety pins and combat boots. It was a means of identifying with what moved me emotionally, and publicly attached me to the music I listened to. In fact, most of the time nowadays when I receive comments such as "I wouldn't have thought you were a punk rock fan", what people really mean is "You're not dressed or you don't act like someone who listens to punk rock". For me, the clothing was a mostly harmless phase, but there are a lot of other less harmless ideologies and lifestyle choices attached to punk rock that could have landed me in a world of hurt if I had chosen to pursue them. I'm sure you can think of a genre or two on your own, regardless of their musical merit, that have claimed their fair share of both bodies and souls.

Are the musicians that produce this music responsible for their fans' actions or the lifestyles that are created around them? Not necessarily. But it is important, both as musicians and listeners, to be self-reflective when it comes to the music that we feel defines us. Our lives are not nothing; the things we do really matter. Are your musical tastes and influences shaping you into the fullest human person you can be, or are they relegating you to the base, the animalistic, and the escapist? Then you can decide whether you should be turning down for something.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

"The Ruin": Seeing the Beginning in the End

The Anglo-Saxon poem "The Ruin" is found in the Exeter Book, which was compiled during the later tenth century as part of the English Benedictine revival under the bishopric of St. Dunstan. It is the largest extant collection of Anglo-Saxon works, and its contents can be split into three major genres: religious poetry, gnomic poetry or riddles, and elegies. "The Ruin" is considered one of these elegies, as it expresses a mournful lament over the loss and deterioration of, not just one particular ruined city, but for all life in all times and places. All things must change and know decay. The poet, as he regards the ruined stones of what was once a great city, feels this keenly and laments that it must be so.

The poet moves back and forth between lamenting the state of the ruined city as he gazes upon it, to praising the builders of it and the greatness it must have had when it was at the height of its glory. Throughout the poem, we see this dual motion, back and forth between the present decay and the past decadence. The poet allows us to experience this kind of double-vision effect in which we can see at the same time the ruins he sees with his physical eye and the bright city he sees with the eye of his mind or his imagination. We are given this kind of overlay effect in which the image of a bustling, lively city is laid over its ruined foundations. The poet uses this to marvelous effect, because what are ruins if you have no knowledge of what they once represented? Without the knowledge of the past, ruins are just a heap of rocks stacked together. But, if you are aware somehow of the original purpose of the ruin, the people who lived there, how they lived there , what their lives were like before, you are given some sort of connection with the place itself and it becomes so much more than a pile of rocks. It becomes instead a monument. Those stacked stones become a memorial of a people, a culture, a human connection that stirs our own humanity to reach out across time and greet our ancestors, the past members of our human family.

I felt this very strongly when I was in England myself; I was really able to feel the difference between those two states of mind at certain sites of ruins. I had no interest in Stonehenge. Stonehenge, to me, was nothing but stacked rocks. They may be impressive to look at, but they meant nothing to me. I couldn't tell what they were for, why anyone would have built them, or what kind of function they were supposed to have in people's lives. I couldn't find any human connection to them, so I felt no interest in seeing them. When I went to visit the ruins of Whitby Abbey, however, I was overwhelmed by the sense of connection to people from another time. I walked the main aisles of what used to be the chapel of the abbey, and I could look around it and say to myself, "This is where the high altar would have been. And this is where all the monks and nuns would have knelt for prayer. And this is where the chantry would have been. And this is where the dormitories were." In every stone I touched, I felt the very real and very human presence of my brothers and sisters in Christ from over a thousand years ago, saying the same prayers and worshiping in the same way and attending the same Mass. When I touched the stone of a ruined pillar that used to hold the roof of the abbey up, I would think to myself, "Abbess Hild may have touched this exact same stone. And Caedmon may have walked these exact same floors." There was that experience of seeing the abbey come alive before my eyes and watching the Benedictines go about their lives in the 7th or 8th century.

The poet, too, allows us to experience this sort of imaginative passage through time in which we see the city as it might have looked before it was ruined. We are given images of a bright and prosperous city. Everything is beautiful and well-built: "Bright were the city-houses, many the bathhouses, / high the horn-treasure, great the army-noise" and "many a man, / glad-hearted and gold-bright, adorned in glory, / proud and wine-flushed, his war-gear shone; / he looked on treasure, on silver, on crafted gems, / on riches, on goods, on precious stones, / on this brights city, broad of rule". This is a beautiful and thriving place. But, as the poet relates, there was a plague and all the people died. The poet uses an incredible metaphor to talk about this in which he says that the city was "broken into a barrow": the entire city had been transformed into a grave. These ruins are a monument to the dead. Perhaps a more depressing way of looking at it is that these people built their own tomb.

There is a type of elegaic writing that is characterized by the Latin phrase ubi sunt? -- where are they now? The ubi sunt elegaic poetry reflects on the splendor of the past and laments its absence in the present, asking where all of these splendid things have gone. Tolkien provides us with a beautiful version of such ubi sunt elegies in the voice of King Theoden in The Two Towers when he recites the poem that begins "Where now are the horse and rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?" In this scene, Theoden is lamenting the glorious past of the Rohirrim, the greatness of his forefathers, and how, if the battle for Helm's Deep goes ill, everything his forefathers worked so hard to create will be lost forever. We see this sentiment also in "The Ruin". The poet reflects on the accomplishments of these great men of the past, but where are they now? They are all dead and everything they built has come to ruin. There is a pragmatic realism in this, although somewhat dreary, because it is impossible to escape the mutability of time and change. It is impossible to escape death and decay. No matter what we build today, we will be gone tomorrow. All that remains are ruins and bones, and eventually even those will disappear. The poet reflects on the temporary nature of greatness, of beauty, and of life: it all must come to an end.

This poet does not give us any real hope for the future, which is typical of the pagan Anglo-Saxon mindset, in which the best thing you could do with your life is die gloriously so you will be remembered. A glorious memory is the only kind of immortality you can achieve. However, this is also the point where Christianity will step in to bridge the gap between death and triumph by revealing the triumph of Christ over death itself. The glory of the Anglo-Saxon man is no longer to be found in the memory of battle-glory, but in the reality of heavenly glory where he will feast in triumph with his Lord and his ancestors forever. This mentality emerges in many of the Anglo-Saxon elegies, such as "The Sea-Farer", "The Wanderer", and most especially in "The Dream of the Rood".

In meditating on today's ruins, we are brought back to the glory of the past, of youth, it brightness, its vibrancy, and its hope. In contemplating these memorials of the past, we see the reality of our future: this world is passing away, and so are we. To place our hope in this world is to place our hope in folly. No one can escape the reality of death and decay, no matter how great the civilization they might build for themselves. Even memory is not a good enough guarantor of immortality; after all, no one remembers who built Stonehenge or why. Although the poet of "The Ruin" offers what help he can in immortalizing the people who lived in his ruin through his poetic imagination, it is left to later Christian writers to add a new dimension of supernatural hope to the human question of ubi sunt? -- where are they now?

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

What Counts in "Counting Stars"?

"Counting Stars" by OneRepublic, from their third album Native (2013) offers an odd kaleidoscope of thoughts, emotions, decisions, and non-decisions concerning a wide array of issues: consumerism, religion, morality, and the paralysis of youth. I find it interesting that the music video depicts the band playing beneath some sort of Christian revival meeting in which those attending are being revitalized, artistically "slain in the Spirit", and are in some sense rediscovering themselves through the passionate "preaching" of a spiritual leader. Whether this is meant to be a parody of Christian revival practices or not, I think it provides a key to understanding some of what is going on in this song. "Counting Stars" exhibits a common mantra among the young people of this generation who are tired of living a meaningless life and are looking for something deeper and more real to fulfill them.

The chorus begins the questioning of consumerism with the words: "Said no more counting dollars, / We'll be counting stars". The chorus sets the tone for the entire song in its desire for a more real existence beyond a certain level of economic fulfillment. The poet spends his life earning money so that he can participate in the meaningless collection of goods, but this ultimately leaves him feeling lifeless and empty. The consumerist lifestyle has become the new religion of the 21st century, which the poet expresses in this first stanza: "In my face is flashing signs: / Seek it out and ye shall find". The consumerist mentality has appropriated the words of Christ from Matthew's Gospel to serve its own purposes; rather than searching for God, people are encouraged to search for the answers to their problems in the flashing signs of advertisements for new articles of clothing, new technologies, new foods, new entertainments, and new trinkets. This is the new gospel of the 21st century modern lifestyle: all problems can be solved by earning money and buying things with it. You can fill all voids in your life with "things". Later in the stanza, the poet insists that he doesn't "think the world is sold, / I'm just doing what we're told". There is a sense that people, the youth particularly, don't fully recognize the problems inherent in self-indulgent consumerism. This is the world they have been born and brought up into, and so it seems normal to them. They receive instructions from the media, the television and the radio, billboards and celebrities, on how best to live their lives and how to make the most of this world. They follow along because they are not told any differently. People continue to seek after material possessions as if they held the key to happiness because they haven't been told anything else. No other options have been offered.

Although all people can find themselves trapped in this consumerist rut, the poet fixes principally on the youth, and I think for a very important reason: youth symbolizes hope and vitality. Unfortunately, hopeful and vital are exactly what modern 21st century youth are not. The poet speaks of being "old" even though he is not old in years; there is a feeling of tiredness and hopelessness that settles upon young people at an earlier and earlier stage in their lives as they come face to face with personal emptiness. They are "young, but not that bold": they lack the vital exuberance owed to youth that is willing to challenge the status quo and seek after true meaning and happiness. Instead, the youth are anxious to please, looking to their peers and celebrities for cues on how to be as happy, popular, and successful as they are, despite the fact that it is obvious they are far from any of those things in any meaningful way. The youth of the modern world are too afraid of missing out on something that might be happiness to take a chance on a road less traveled. The poet refers to life as a "swinging vine", which he desires to grab a hold of and "swing my heart across the line". Whatever line he might be crossing, whether this is a spiritual or physical line, is less important than the fact that the youth of today are too scared to do it. They are too cowed by public opinion to do something as risky as swing on a vine to the other side. There is too much risk involved. How do I know the vine is safe? What if it breaks while I'm swinging across? Are my friends doing it too? Has some celebrity already done it before me and guaranteed that it is a good experience? What if I don't like what's on the other side? What if I can't get back? Youth are paralyzed by self-doubt and an earnest fear of "missing out" in some way, especially when it comes to the big decisions of life. Rather than taking hold of the vine and swinging out into the unknown, full of hope and vitality, the youth of today live in a paralyzed state of permanent indecision. The only choice they can safely make is the economic one: earn money, spend money, repeat.

The poet encourages young people to make the big decisions with confidence: "Hope is our four-letter word". He encourages the youth to dream about the possibilities of life and all of the potential they possess. There is an incredible world around us, calling out to us to put our unique talents to work within it, asking us to impress our unique personalities onto the lives of others. We are called to a life of love and we know it: "I feel the love / And I feel it burn". We are called to love all those we meet in a truly meaningful and life-giving way; we are built for relationships of love, not economic convenience. The poet admits that he has been "praying hard" to make the choice to leave the chase for economic "freedom" behind in order to count stars, to truly see the beauty in the world around us and passionately chase after it instead. The courage to live life to its fullest comes from prayer, from communication with Being itself, the One who creates all things and sustains them in existence. The source of all Being will give us the courage to seek out true being in our own lives; He will give us courage to truly seek with hope and vitality, and truly find. In this sense, we can understand the repeated words of the song: "I feel something so right by doing the wrong thing / And I feel something so wrong by doing the right thing/ ... Everything that kills me makes me feel alive". We can now hear these words in their proper context: going against the world, doing what is foolish or useless in the eyes of the world, resonates within our souls as doing what is right, while following along with what the world says is wise or useful creates within us a sense of vital wrongness. All those things that seem to be acting against our own self-interest -- giving money to the poor, visiting the infirm or elderly, devoting ourselves to the care of others to our financial detriment, quitting lucrative jobs when they are unjust towards others, giving our lives to love others in marriage, in parenthood, in religious service, in charitable work -- all those things that are instances of self-sacrifice, of little "deaths", are the very things that give us the greatest vitality and bring the deepest meaning to our lives.

"Counting Stars" asks us to "Take that money / Watch it burn". It asks us to have the courage to grab the swinging vine and cross over to a new way of living in the world. It asks us to enact our being by dying to self. It asks us to dream about all that we could be, and then move to bring that dream into reality with courage and hope, without counting the cost. Instead, we can count the stars.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

Should We Stick it to "The Man"?

The song "The Man", written by the American singer-songwriter known as Aloe Blacc from his album Lift Your Spirit (2013), is meant to be seen as more than just the usual self-inflated, egotistical display of hubris that most rap and R&B "empowerment" songs generally are. In the music video, Blacc emphasizes this by showing the evolution of the social opportunities of black Americans from the 50s to the present day. What begins with civil rights riots ends with America's first black president. In this context, the song is meant to be interpreted as a voice of empowerment, confidence, and celebration for the accomplishments that have been achieved by fearless black men and women. In the midst of the inner city violence, poverty, and racism that still exist for many American blacks today, Aloe Blacc encourages them to stand tall and be fearless in achieving a life of dignity and justice.

However, songs exist without their respective videos, and I think the majority of people today still experience music primarily aurally without any sort of visual aid. And I think most people enjoy certain songs for their musical or lyrical quality far more than any sort of visual quality of the videos attached to them. So what does "The Man" have to say beyond the confines of the powerful message the video conveys? What does it say to the world at large? Does it have universal qualities that can make all people, regardless of racial or ethnic background, relate to it on a personal level?

The poet expresses a sense of personal empowerment in the first stanza by being thankful for the life he has been given and the strength he had to live it out as best he could. Although there is an admission to telling lies and stealing hearts, the poet reveals that, even in these moments of potential failure to live up to his own standards, his intentions were to be the best he could be. He truly believed what he said even though it turned out to be a lie. He may have stolen hearts, but he paid for every one of them afterward. There is a sense of making reparation for all the ways he has failed to be the best man he can be. In this sense, he can truly be proud of the fact that he has not given up on himself and that he has given his best even in the worst situations of his life. He insists that "life is a test"; life is a task to be accomplished, not a series of experiences to enjoy. Life actually has a telos, an end goal, which is "to be a king when kingdom come". He refers here to the final accomplishment of God's plan in the world and the institution of the kingdom of heaven on earth. In order to "be a king when kingdom come", the poet must pass the test provided by life itself; he lives this out by seeking after self-perfection in all of his actions. His ability to do so is attributed to the grace of God: "God made my mold different from the rest, / Then He broke that mold, so I know I'm blessed". God has created the poet in a unique way, given him unique talents and abilities to enable him to pass the test of life. The poet knows that his person and his life on this earth is a blessing from God in the very fact of its uniqueness. This does not necessarily mean that the poet is perfect or is incapable of making mistakes, but that God has given him the grace and ability to overcome all trials and difficulties that life may test him with. If the poet puts his trust in the Lord, there is no obstacle in life that cannot be overcome. If he is able to pass the test of life, through the grace of God, he will become a king, a saint, in the heavenly kingdom. The poet will, in a sense, be able to rejoice and proclaim to everyone that he is "the man", the perfect man that God intended him to be.

The second stanza seems to revert to a predictable mode of rap hubris in its repetitive insistence on the superiority of the poet to all others: "I got all the answers to your questions / I'll be the teacher, you can be the lesson / I'll be the preacher, you be the confession / I'll be the quick relief to all your stressin'". On first glance, these lines only seem to be the expressions of pride common to such personal empowerment songs. But perhaps we can see this in another light if we add another man to the mixture, "the Man", as it were. If we put these words instead in the mouth of Christ, the God-become-man in whom we are all able to say "I'm the man" if we conform ourselves to Him, then these lines of the song begin to take on a different quality. Through the words of the poet, Christ himself expresses to us His ability to provide answers to our serious questions about life; He is the Teacher who instructs our souls in the lessons they should imitate; He is the holy preacher in whom we confess our faith in His ability to save; He is the divine healer who provides our souls with relief from anxiety, fear, and despair. In this context, the poet allows us a chance to embrace the same God who has broken the mold in the creation of each of His unique children; we are encouraged to recognize both the blessing and the test that our lives are; we are shown how ultimately empowering it is to become "a king at kingdom come". According to the rest of the stanza, only three things are asked of us to pass the test of life: to choose love over hate, to live in the truth rather than in falsity, and to stand firm in the faith. If we can accomplish those things, we will have passed the test, become kings, and can rejoice in the fact that we truly are "the man".

Of course, it's entirely possible not to understand this song in the way just described. But, given the options, this interpretation seems to me to allow for the most positive and universal sense of empowerment. Let's all live our lives so as to become kings when kingdom come.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!

And the Oscar Goes to ... "Wings"

Wings (1927) has the distinction of being the first film in history to win the Academy Award for Best
Picture. It also has the distinction of being the first silent film I have ever seen. The experience was an interesting one. I was fascinated by how a story could be told in such a way that I could both laugh out loud and be moved to tears while only understanding a fraction of the dialogue between the characters. I'm no historian so I can't say whether director William A. Wellman's portrayal of warfare during the first World War was accurate, but I was impressed by his ability to depict both the glories of victory and valor, as well as the real brutality and senselessness of war. The almost offhand comment from two characters nearing the end of the film -- "That's war!" -- served to set the tone for a world coming out from under the shadow of one of the most horrific moments in human history. You may accidentally be responsible for the death of your best friend -- "That's war!" You may get incredibly drunk on leave in Paris and do things you regret as you try to forget the horrors you've faced -- "That's war!" The unanimous desire by the end of the film is to leave the Great War in the past and move on with hopes for a brighter future. No matter what you've done wrong for the sake of your country, you can leave it behind now that the war is over.

I found myself questioning this logic throughout the film, particularly as I pondered the actions of the film's major protagonist, Jack Powell. Is it true that all's fair in love and war? Is no one responsible for their actions when they are caught up in the midst of the violence of battle? Should ethical and moral codes be sidelined in favor of "doing what needs to be done"? When Jack returns to America a hero, he brings the medal and teddy bear of his best friend David Armstrong back to David's parents to pay his respects and to apologize. Jack had been unwittingly responsible for David's death and he comes to seek their forgiveness for his actions. David's mother responds: "I wanted to hate you, Jack. But it's not your fault -- it was the war!" Is it the war's fault David died? Maybe so. After all, David was flying a German plane when Jack shot him down. Jack was only doing what the war required of him. But Jack's character is impulsive and selfish, and his ignorance is often self-imposed. At the beginning of the film, Jack expresses his love for Sylvia Lewis despite the fact that it is more than obvious she has bestowed her affections on David. David and Sylvia are sitting on a swing together as she plays music for him, when Jack comes and physically removes Sylvia so he can take her for a ride in his new roadster. He does not apologize for intruding on the couple, he does not ask Sylvia if she would like to ride in his car, and he does not really even offer her a choice. He selfishly assumes that she wants what he wants, and then impulsively forces her to live up to his expectations. Unfortunately, David and Sylvia are both kindhearted and reserved people, so neither make a move to correct Jack. The same thing happens when the two men are making ready to leave for Europe to take part in the Great War as aviators. Sylvia is preparing a locket for David so that he can carry her picture with him into war. Jack arrives before David, intending to ask Sylvia if he might have her picture and assuming that she will say yes. When he sees the locket on her desk, he once again makes the self-centered assumption that the locket is for him and impulsively takes it from her without asking for permission or clarification. Sylvia starts to explain that there's been a misunderstanding, but then David arrives and the antagonism between the two rivals is palpable. Jack leaves with the locket, and Sylvia is left to try to explain to David why she has nothing to give to him but her heart.

The same behavior continues when Jack and David begin training as war pilots. During a training exercise, Jack repeatedly and maliciously stomps on David's hat while pretending it's only an accident, despite the fact that David has done nothing to him and tells him to stop. Jack is in no way punished for this behavior. In fact, as the two men attempt to settle their differences in a boxing match (again, as part of training), Jack knocks David to the ground three times while barely suffering a blow himself. Along with the triumph of having bested his rival in a feat of strength, the two men immediately become best friends after this. Again, Jack receives no backlash for his self-centered and impulsive behavior. While on leave in Paris, Jack indulges in some stereotypically negative army behavior by getting completely intoxicated and spending the evening in the arms of a flirtatious Parisian woman. When his old next-door neighbor and secret admirer, Mary Preston, arrives to sober him up with the news he must return to the frontlines immediately, it's all she can do to get him away from women and champagne, and into bed to sleep off the effects. While Mary saves Jack from at least one moral danger, she herself is implicated in indecency and is forced to resign her post as a military medical driver. Once again, Jack acts impulsively and selfishly, and other people are forced to suffer punishment on his behalf.

The final scene of the war contains perhaps the trickiest example of Jack's self-centered behavior. Jack becomes angry with David before their last flight together because David has torn up his picture of Sylvia, which had fallen out of the locket. The reason David does this is because Sylvia had written a love note on the back of the picture to David, and David does not want to hurt Jack by revealing that Sylvia is not really in love with him. When Jack refuses to let David replace the picture in the locket himself, David tears up the photo rather than allow Jack to learn the truth. Jack refuses to speak to David afterwards and takes to the sky angrily. As they meet German opposition in the skies, Jack leaves David to dogfight with three German planes, while Jack attacks the blimps. David does not return from this dogfight, and the Germans claim that they have killed him. Believing his best friend to have died, Jack regrets his former anger and vows revenge against as many German enemies as he can claim. He goes into the last battle in an impetuous rage of vengeance and attacks anyone he can find: foot-soldiers, gunners, balloons, and planes. He abandons his squadron so that he can fly behind enemy lines and attack the Germans head on and alone, feeding his grief and his desire for revenge. Unbeknownst to him, David has survived and has managed to steal a German plane in order to get back to the American lines. Before he can do so, he is spotted by Jack. Despite his urgent cries and waving in hopes that Jack will recognize him, the narrative intertitles specifically note that Jack is "blinded" by his desire for vengeance so that he is unable to recognize his friend. This blindness results in David's death. Once again, Jack faces no consequences for his actions against David beyond his own sorrow and guilt at having been instrumental in his demise. David excuses Jack completely of any fault in the matter, as does the French commander, who blames the war. On his return home, Jack is greeted with accolades and a parade, and even David's parents can say nothing more than that nothing is his fault. Jack doesn't even bother to visit Sylvia to convey his condolences or offer some sort of apology for his behavior. Instead, he finds Mary and apologizes to her for his actions during a drunken night in Paris that he doesn't even really remember. It's the closest thing to an apology that Mary will ever get for the trouble he has put her through, but I guess Jack makes her full reparation in finally giving her his love, which is what she's wanted since the opening scene.

Mary's response to Jack's apology is to leave the past in the past. David's parents say that nothing is his fault. David himself says that Jack didn't shoot him, but just the German plane. Is anyone going to hold Jack responsible for his actions, for his choices to act maliciously, get drunk, and kill in a blind rage? Were these choices forced on him by the war, or is he morally culpable for these decisions? Even though the film insists that Jack left for war a boy, but has come home a man, there is not very much evidence that his character has improved.

But perhaps we're viewing this film through the wrong lens. Perhaps this movie is not so much about the building up of a moral character as it is about the capacity for forgiveness despite the most unforgivable of tragedies. War in general provides a myriad of opportunities for this kind of heroic forgiveness; the scars and pain of having to spend one's youth learning to hate a brutal enemy in order to brutalize him in return opens up an infinite gulf of guilt and despair. How can one possibly be forgiven for the atrocities committed in the depths of such darkness? Curiously, the film's one overtly religious moment happens at the very climax of the film as David's broken body and smoking plane crash to the ground in rural France. A woman and her child are depicted praying before a crucifix in a small grotto outside their home. They are forced to take shelter when David's plane crashes directly into their home. His body is taken inside to be cared for, and Jack's plane lands soon after so that he may exult over his kill. It is only when Jack places his hand upon the miraculously undamaged crucifix in order to see the pilot he has killed that he recognizes him as his friend. It is in the shadow of this same crucifix that Jack receives the heroic forgiveness of his friend, who tells him that it was not him he killed but the evil his plane represented. There is an opportunity to make a beautiful parallel between David's words and Christ, the incarnate God who became sin for our sakes so that He could defeat our evil once and for all. Similarly to Jack's unspeakable error, we also had been so blinded by our sins that we could put to death our loving God, a crime that should brook no forgiveness; and yet, it is through this death that we are granted the ultimate forgiveness, the release from sin and death, and the welcome into the heavenly kingdom. In this sense, the forgiveness Jack receives from all those he has harmed reflects the salvific mercy of Christ who, while we were still sinners, was willing to die for us. Even though Jack is still flawed and guilty, those around him are able to put aside their pain, their regret, and their hatred in order to reveal the beauty of mercy.

As a war movie, Wings offers that same mercy to those still suffering the effects of a war that helped to bring out the worst in so many people. The film offers something like forgiveness to those who feel the weight of their part in the violence; it does not excuse what has been done in the name of freedom and justice, but it does offer a share in that impossible forgiveness that stems from the Cross of Christ by insisting that we leave the bitterness behind and move forward in hope.

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The point of this blog is not to tell anyone what they should or should not consider entertaining, nor what films, books, lyrics, or television shows are morally or artistically good or bad. The point is to engage with the stories that are creating our culture on an intellectual level, to meet the morals with our minds before they go to our hearts. Once you know what's in the entertainment you imbibe and you're aware of how it may be shaping your perceptions of the world around you, well then, imbibe away!