Sunday, January 10, 2010

Terwilliger "Mystery" Mural Inquiry (Part One: A strange allure)


St. Mark Presbyterian Church, Portland, OR
Photo: God, LLC

I've walked and driven-by this mural countless times and it hasn't ceased to puzzle me. It has a strange allure. Not only is it quite well done for what should, by all indications, be an entirely ordinary, vanilla church/daycare mural (poorly-rendered children of all races doing cartwheels comes to mind), but its vivid colors, sharp lines and triumphant winged white lion evoke a certain mysticism, and it's prompted a curiosity in me that has resulted in my first God, LLC "assignment" (self-appointed, of course).

My assignment is to discover the origin and symbolism of this most mysterious mural. How did such a special piece get slapped onto a complex that otherwise exudes only mediocrity? When was it painted and by whom? These answers and more in the coming week.


Mural at St. Mark Presbyterian Church, Portland, OR
Photo: God, LLC

Friday, January 8, 2010

Rethinking "The Lord's Prayer" with Buckminster Fuller

Here's a bizarre video segment, replete with weird glitches, featuring one of history's great polymaths, Buckminster Fuller, as he rethinks his way through The Lord's Prayer. Admittedly, it's difficult to focus on this video because the quality is so poor, but it's worth straining your ears if not your eyes.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Slayer, Nietzsche: No Apologies



I had the thought to review Slayer's infamous God Hates Us All album, and I'm increasingly glad for it. First off, what better way to start out the new year. Secondly, my scant investigations into the band's history and lyrics revealed a number of online treasures, for example, did you know there is a website called darklyrics.com? That's pretty cool. And, surpriseSlayer lyrics are posted there! (as they happen to be some of the darkest lyrics this side of Charles Manson's unpublished Moleskin.)

Also, I think it only fitting that I should touch on the very band whose promo poster hangs neatly on the wall 4 feet to the left of where I typically make these posts.

I'm not telling you this to prove that I am the ultimate Slayer fan, or even a true Slayer fan (in the more dedicated sense). On the contrary, if there's one thing I realized in my brief research, it's that Slayer has a vast history that I'm mostly not privy to, and staring glassy-eyed at the abundance of information on their Wiki page, if anything, dissuaded me from delving much further into it. Suffice it to say, they have a deep catalog and have been playing ridiculously intense music for many, many years.


Did I mention this music is fiendish? Yes. Quite fiendish. Not in the sense that they actually worship the devil, as the the band maintains they do not (that's one thing I did glean from the Wiki article), but there is a reason why legions of mothers—mothers with even the most elementary detective skills—have flipped there tops over their kids listening to Slayer. It's potent stuff. And highly amoral, even by my anemic double-standards.

Actually though, if one tries and tunes their ears to all the anger-stricken yelling of singer, Tom Araya, it's difficult not to acknowledge a resounding Nietzsche influence.* One might imagine the philosopher's hopes of a more scholarly interpretation, but take the lyrics to "Darkness Of Christ" for example:

Mankind in his insatiable search for divine
Knowledge has discarded all biblical teachings

Realizing that the strength of religion is the repression of
knowledge
All structures of religion have collapsed

Life prays for death
in the wake of the horror of these revelations

It was never imagined how graphic the reality that would
be known as the end
of creation
Would manifest itself

We believe all this chaos and atrocity can be traced
Back to one single event

We hold these truths to be painfully self-evident
All men are not created equal
Only the strong will prosper
Only the strong will conquer
Only in the darkness of Christ have I realized
God Hates Us All

Okay, so maybe Nietzsche just gasped in his grave. Really it's more a sort of turbo-Nietzsche—a hybrid—morbidly focused on the most dire aspects of Nietzsche's thought, with a modern, soothsaying twist. Still, Slayer and Nietzsche, if allowed to mingle in some magnificent extra-temporal back-stage area, would surely find common ground in their disdain for Christianity.

Moreover, Nietzsche might find Slayer refreshingly sympathetic to his late-onset insanity—though, they wouldn't coddle him. Here's some lyrics from "Cast Down" (track 5 off God Hates Us All):

No one hears you
You're society's infection
I won't judge you

...

Godless he doesn't care
How you choose to destroy yourself
In a world that feeds on hate
You're left here just to waste away
In your cardboard prison, asphalt wasteland

(read the full lyrics here)

This song is apparently about society's rejects and junkies. It acknowledges that misery exists in abundance, but that it goes largely ignored. And despite what we tell ourselves, and those living on the margins of society to comfort them, there's no case to be made for why this misery is allowed to persist, or how the miserable might come to experience any redemption when all is said and done.

Slayer and Nietzsche believe in this cold reality, and see that there is no supernatural entity handing out blankets. They accept these as our circumstances, and then, perhaps, diverge from there. Neither, however would deny that religion does possess consoling powers, it's just that both see these as unfit delusions. And it angers them.

Quoting from Nietzsche's, The Anti-Christ:

In Christianity neither morality nor religion has even a single point of contact with reality. Nothing but imaginary causes ("God," "soul," "ego," "spirit," "free will"—for that matter, "unfree will"), nothing but imaginary effects ("sin," "redemption," "grace," "punishment," "forgiveness of sins"). Intercourse between imaginary beings ("God," "spirits," "souls,"); an imaginary natural science (anthropocentric; no trace of any concept of natural causes); an imaginary psychology (nothing but self-misunderstanding, interpretations of agreeable or disagreeable general feelings... "repentance," "pangs of conscience," "temptation by the devil," "the presence of God"); an imaginary teleology ("the kingdom of God," "the Last Judgement," "eternal life").

This world of pure fiction is vastly inferior to the world of dreams insofar as the latter mirrors reality, whereas the former falsifies, devalues, and negates reality.

One could easily take Nietzsche to task on the finer points of this tirade, but his passion is downright contagious.

For Slayer fans, Araya's passion too is contagious. It's amazing how many albums a single band has devoted to cursing Christianity; it's akin to standing outside the courthouse every day with a bold-faced sign until the laws change. Or like continuing to pummel someone who has long been knocked unconscious.

In no song [does Araya sound more confused in his anger] than on "Threshold" (track 6, God Hates Us All:

Never wanted bliss never wanted you
Never needed anyone I've polluted
Everything you feel everything you are
Everything you'll ever be you repulse me
It's always about you always come at me
With shit I can't identify you know it makes me
Lose my fuckin' mind all the fuckin' time
Can't control the violence that's spewing from me

This isn't the sort of thing that God, LLC readily relates to, or condones. In fact, Tom Araya would likely benefit from the in-house yoga and monthly Emotional Intelligence Training vouchers I offer all my employees. Still, I marvel at the bands continued existence (see the band's discography for an impression of how much time they've put in. It reads like—well—a Slayer discography.)

In sum, my critical assessment of God Hates Us All has affirmed my feeling that Slayer is important. Aside from their genre-defining metal, they are an important historical artifact; a dark thread without which the human tapestry would be incomplete. They represent an extreme, and they speak a certain vulgar truth. One that, while masquerading as nihilistic scum in order to bolster album sales and increase publicity, cuts to the heart of the human condition.

Listen to God Hates Us All at Lala and read the lyrics.†

Also, as I mentioned, the band has a well-realized Wiki page:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slayer



* Nietzsche. Few names have that sort of economy. Few philosophers have been more twisted by history. To be fair, the ties that I've suggested with Nietzsche are tenuous, and of course one cannot always know where someone is getting their ideas from. But a mere smattering of Nietzsche is enough to pave the way to all sorts of dark trajectories, and I'd be shocked if singer, Tom Araya, hasn't read The Anti-Christ. Perhaps, the very tendency for misinterpretation and scapegoat-ism is something that Slayer and Nietzsche have closely in common. After all, a kid commits suicide and it's Slayer's fault. A ruthless dictator plumbs the very depths of human depravity and it's Nietzsche's.

† Don't hurt yourself or others in doing so. In fact, that's God LLC's new unofficial motto, so don't come asking me about any Slayer-related homicides.

†† I'm giddy over the employment of the cross-like "dagger" symbol in this of all entries.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Magic happens. Or so it appears.



Folks, it's been an interesting year. The world continues to be a place of great mystery and happy predictability. For a minute there, I thought we were entering a new era of optimism and seriousness, a time unfriendly to irony and the like. Well, I regret to report that this does not seem to be the case. Which means God, LLC shall stay in business and continue providing sometimes serious analysis, sometimes not.

"There is no history of mankind, there is only an indefinite number of histories of all kinds of aspects of human life."
-Karl Popper

Friday, December 25, 2009

Notes on Midnight Mass

It wasn't planned, but Christmas Eve found my brother and I bleary-eyed and watching Midnight Mass. There's something soothing about the soft-glowing candles, the rhythmic camera fades, placid slow-pans, rich choruses and pageantry of this most holy of services. But while it began as a mere tranquilizer—something gently cupping me in my food-induced somnolence—my interest spiked when my brother told me that the Pope had been tackled earlier in the ceremony.

Having my computer nearby I looked up the incident online. Sure enough, Captian Frailty himself was downed by a red-hooded villain—a "mentally unstable" woman as it was uncommunicatively reported.

With renewed interest, I tuned back to the service on CTV.

The Pope did indeed appear shaken (as the news had stated) but he continued to look deeply despondent as the procession wore on. This solemnness was hard not to notice. It hung like a dark cloud over the ceremony leading up to and into his pope-ly address, which consisted of a predictably luddite and regretful appraisal of modernity and the impediments it poses on the path to righteousness. Basically, the speech was an appeal to the people of the world to open their minds and their hearts to God, or as he put it "Lord, open the eyes of our hearts."

Now, I don't have much experience observing Popes—I know them as slow-moving and decrepit creatures, with special transportation needs. But it would seem that if a Pope should be one thing, it's joyful. Joyful in the knowledge that they have truth, love and God on their side and everlasting life to look forward to. Benedict looked anything but. If there was passion in him, it was completely unavailable this Christmas Eve.

So where's the joy, Bene-boy? You're supposed to be a model of the endowment of religious faith, filled with Christ-love. People should look to you and think, what's his secret? how does he get along so well? But you looked like the embodiment of doubt and regret, cast of compressed resin from the bottom of Mother Teresa's guilt-stricken subconscious. I must say it didn't bode well. My advice to you would be to be a lot more like a really likable Grandpa-like figure. Draw people in with your radiance and make them feel that they too could achieve such a glow.

To avoid being any meaner to an old man who has just been accosted, allow me to continue in a different direction.

It occurred to me somewhere in my watching that if there's one thing uniting all religions at present, it's ensuring the stop-loss of wavering faithfuls and the corresponding rise of secularism. All Abrahamic religions, for example, despair at the ebbing away of the shared memes that keep their institutions vital (and subsidized!—god knows it costs a lot of money to clean the high-vaulted ceilings of the Vatican!)

In this sense, religion is engaged in an era of maintenance—stuck in a bid to convince a new generation of followers that faith is desirable to begin with. In this disparaging battle, even warring sects find common ground. Of course, if they do succeed in reversing the trend toward secularization, the fight over which doctrine should be adopted and which God worshiped will surely resume in earnest.

As it stands though—and this is evidenced by the defeated tone of Pope Benedictus' Christmas sermon (maybe too by the tackling incident)—these are hostile times for religion; we live in a markedly secular age, despite the supposed billion-odd Catholics bespeckling the earth.



Tackling incident:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_depth/8430406.stm

Midnight Mass in full:

http://vod.vatican.va/messa24122009.mov

Monday, December 14, 2009

Santa Claus: Gateway to skepticism



For many of us westerners, Santa Claus—along with the Easter Bunny—represent two archetypal disillusionments we must suffer on our path from credulity to greater enlightenment. After this of course it's all downhill, and the universe becomes a place increasingly void of fantastical entities, be they paternal or bunny-like.

Still, if you've maintained as I haven't, the notion that Santa maybe really does exist, or you're simply interested in witnessing the spectacle of truth-manufacturing—oh, and you live in Brooklyn—then don't miss tonight's lecture "Beyond Belief: A Philosophical Proof of Santa Claus," presented by Open City Dialogue, at Pete's Candy Shop in Williamsburg.

Sure to employ much truthiness, the interactive lecture aims to "restore the idea of Santa Claus to those who have suffered its loss. Using historical fact, ontological argument, and inductive reasoning, we will prove the existence of Santa Claus in a passion play for the non-believer."

Friday, December 11, 2009

Petty Friday: Don't knock it till you've tried it...


I followed a link that landed me at a slick propaganda machine courtesy of Scientology.org. Next thing I know, I'm about four informational videos deep being thoroughly overwhelmed by details of the life accomplishments of church founder, L. Ron Hubbard.

Proportionately underwhelmed, however, by the church's pie-in-the-sky precepts:

see Scientology.org's "Video Channel."