14.4.06
A Song For Good Friday
TO BE ALONE WITH YOU- Sufjan Stevens from Seven Swans
I'd swim across Lake Michigan.
I'd sell my shoes.
I'd give my body to be back again
in the rest of room.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
You gave your body to the lonely.
They took your clothes.
You gave up a wife and a family.
You gave your ghost.
To be alone with me.
To be alone with me.
To be alone with me,
you went up on a tree.
To be alone with me,
you went up on a tree.
I've never known a man who loved me
I'd swim across Lake Michigan.
I'd sell my shoes.
I'd give my body to be back again
in the rest of room.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
To be alone with you.
You gave your body to the lonely.
They took your clothes.
You gave up a wife and a family.
You gave your ghost.
To be alone with me.
To be alone with me.
To be alone with me,
you went up on a tree.
To be alone with me,
you went up on a tree.
I've never known a man who loved me
12.4.06
10.4.06
"Thanks to my homegirl at T-Shirts in NYC" and "Shout out to my brothers over at Emmaus Theory"
This draws together a few threads from the blogosphere, which I hope all y'all can enjoy. It's Sufjan so it's bound to please the indie rock contingent. It's a link from "t-shirts" so it's a word of thanks to my NYC peoples (all two of them- unless you count Rudi and Tim- ok it's just two of them). And it's all for love of country and whatnot so it should please both sides of the political aisle.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Wild Lions to Protect Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie's Privacy During Pregnancy
Angelina: [exiting bathroom with pregnancy test in hand] Brad Honey, sit down. I have great news!
Brad: [confused, noticing pregnancy test, but not quite able to connect the dots] You got me some Lick-M-Aid Fun Dip?
Angelina: No Sweetie... I'm pregnant! You're going to be a Daddy!
Brad: Awesome. I'll get the lions.
As you can see, this is a completely reasonable course of action to take.
Note to Self... 100 days of pregnancy left. Be sure to get price quote on Ocelots.
Brad: [confused, noticing pregnancy test, but not quite able to connect the dots] You got me some Lick-M-Aid Fun Dip?
Angelina: No Sweetie... I'm pregnant! You're going to be a Daddy!
Brad: Awesome. I'll get the lions.
As you can see, this is a completely reasonable course of action to take.
Note to Self... 100 days of pregnancy left. Be sure to get price quote on Ocelots.
Come On Feel the B-Sides
Funky Presbyterian's most beloved artist of 2005 promises release of outtakes from Illinoise, the neo-folk masterpiece hailed by everyone and his brother as the best album of the last year. I am giddy with anticipation.
8.4.06
Phone Calls I Don't Make to Radio Talk Shows
Last night the boys and I had our own official men's night out which consisted of lots of jumping, running, and falling off of the big plastic spaceships and planets in the play area of the Tuttle Mall (as Jack's t-ball game was cancelled due to rain), some time at the book store, and of course the official eating of the ceremonial cookie which has traditionally marked the adjournment of the men's night out festivites. It's all very dignified. Next time we hope to incorporate pyrotechnical elements into the closing ceremonies. And probably dancing bears with little hats and vests on, carrying umbrellas. Or midgets boxing. The committee has not yet reached full agreement.
Anyway, as we were driving home and the boys were nodding off in the back seat, I was listeing to local talk radio wherre they were having a Final Four of annoying celebrities. The concept was some kind of bracket, whereby annoying celebrities and public figures were pitted against one another in order to determine just exactly who holds the distinguished title of most annoying person. The names callers proposed were largely predictable: Michael Jackson, Bill O'Reilly, Anna Nicole Smith, Barbara Streisand, Michael Moore... you get the point.
As I was listening, I couldn't help but think how totally awesome it would be to call up and suggest the names of individuals who are regarded with virtually universal respect and admiration. How hilarious would that be? Of course the trick would be to maintain an aura of complete sincerity:
"Yeah, this is T-Bone from the southside. Long time listener first time caller- Love the show, man. Thanks for taking my call. Alright, here's my Final Four-
Nelson Mandela- Ok. We get it. You were wrongfully imprisoned. Get over it already. And what's with the big baggy crazy print shirts? So when you got out of bed this morning you put on regular pants, but left the pajama shirt on? Nelson, buddy... it's called the Men's Wearhouse. Look into it.
And how about that Stephen Hawking guy- could this guy get any more pretensious? 'Oooh, look at me! I'm so smart. I've made greater contributions to mankind's understanding of the universe than anyone in the world and I did it all without the use of my lower extremities'. He's always doing that robot thing with his voice and he's all like 'I-INVENTED-BLACK-HOLES-AND-TIME-MACHINES-AND-I-CAN'T-EVEN-MOVE-MY-NECK-BUT-YES-I-WOULD-LIKE-FRIES-WITH-THAT-HA-HA-YOU-RETARDS-E=MC2' And what's with the wheel chair? Shouldn't he be able to levitate or something?
Next, I got Ghandi. Dude wait wait wait. It's totally not just cause he's a muslim. Seriously, dude. It's just a fashion thing. Whose this guy's stylist? It's like this, if you're going to roll with the whole "second-century tunic and sandals" vibe that's cool, but then you can't wear the little wire rimmed glasses. It totally breaks character! It's like that guy from cheap trick who wears a suit and tie with a baseball hat. You can't do that. Ghandi, my man. Either lose the glasses or get a coduroy jacket with elbow patches and a turtle neck. And grow a soul patch. You'd look like an english professor or something. Clothes make the man, my friend. Clothes make the man.
Alright and here's my last one: Mother Theresea. 'I help poor people. I give food to people who don't have any. I'm all short and old and whatnot'. I'm kidding! I'm kidding! No, really- I'm all about helping poor people and stuff. She's nice. But Theresea, I've got one word for you:
MOISTURIZER.
EXFOLIATION.
MICRODERM ABRASION.
I mean seriously... yikes.
That's it, dudes. Love the show. Catch you on the flipside. T-bone out!"
But I didn't call and say any of those things.
Anyway, as we were driving home and the boys were nodding off in the back seat, I was listeing to local talk radio wherre they were having a Final Four of annoying celebrities. The concept was some kind of bracket, whereby annoying celebrities and public figures were pitted against one another in order to determine just exactly who holds the distinguished title of most annoying person. The names callers proposed were largely predictable: Michael Jackson, Bill O'Reilly, Anna Nicole Smith, Barbara Streisand, Michael Moore... you get the point.
As I was listening, I couldn't help but think how totally awesome it would be to call up and suggest the names of individuals who are regarded with virtually universal respect and admiration. How hilarious would that be? Of course the trick would be to maintain an aura of complete sincerity:
"Yeah, this is T-Bone from the southside. Long time listener first time caller- Love the show, man. Thanks for taking my call. Alright, here's my Final Four-
Nelson Mandela- Ok. We get it. You were wrongfully imprisoned. Get over it already. And what's with the big baggy crazy print shirts? So when you got out of bed this morning you put on regular pants, but left the pajama shirt on? Nelson, buddy... it's called the Men's Wearhouse. Look into it.
And how about that Stephen Hawking guy- could this guy get any more pretensious? 'Oooh, look at me! I'm so smart. I've made greater contributions to mankind's understanding of the universe than anyone in the world and I did it all without the use of my lower extremities'. He's always doing that robot thing with his voice and he's all like 'I-INVENTED-BLACK-HOLES-AND-TIME-MACHINES-AND-I-CAN'T-EVEN-MOVE-MY-NECK-BUT-YES-I-WOULD-LIKE-FRIES-WITH-THAT-HA-HA-YOU-RETARDS-E=MC2' And what's with the wheel chair? Shouldn't he be able to levitate or something?
Next, I got Ghandi. Dude wait wait wait. It's totally not just cause he's a muslim. Seriously, dude. It's just a fashion thing. Whose this guy's stylist? It's like this, if you're going to roll with the whole "second-century tunic and sandals" vibe that's cool, but then you can't wear the little wire rimmed glasses. It totally breaks character! It's like that guy from cheap trick who wears a suit and tie with a baseball hat. You can't do that. Ghandi, my man. Either lose the glasses or get a coduroy jacket with elbow patches and a turtle neck. And grow a soul patch. You'd look like an english professor or something. Clothes make the man, my friend. Clothes make the man.
Alright and here's my last one: Mother Theresea. 'I help poor people. I give food to people who don't have any. I'm all short and old and whatnot'. I'm kidding! I'm kidding! No, really- I'm all about helping poor people and stuff. She's nice. But Theresea, I've got one word for you:
MOISTURIZER.
EXFOLIATION.
MICRODERM ABRASION.
I mean seriously... yikes.
That's it, dudes. Love the show. Catch you on the flipside. T-bone out!"
But I didn't call and say any of those things.
4.4.06
We Home School...
...but we've never suggested that it is the right choice for others. When considering the deicison to home school, private school or public school your children, there are many variables to consider and each situation is unique and there is no "one-size-fits all" correct answer for everyone. However...
THIS---> http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060403/NEWS01/604030389/1002/OPINION
is ridiculous!
THIS---> http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060403/NEWS01/604030389/1002/OPINION
is ridiculous!
3.4.06
2.4.06
Strung out on St Paul's Epistle to the Romans.
I'm so sleepy I can't sleep. I feel all grumpy and tired and wired simultaneously. Who needs drugs when you can just preach every sunday night and have a giant adrenaline high followed by a crash? Tomorrow AM at 7:30 i've got men's prayer group. I'm just about good for nuthin' on Monday's. I feel like I'm emotionally and spiritually drained and like I have nothing left to give anyone. Like my battery is just empty. I should make little beeping sounds like my cell phone just before it's battery dies. That way everyone would know. By Tuesday I'm usually back up to speed. One thing that still surprises me is the toll Sundays take on me physically. On Monday's I physically hurt from preaching on Sunday nights. I move slower. My joints ache.
I can always tell when I need some time off because Sunday nights feel just like this. I even took two days off last week, but I stayed in town and so it didn't really feel like I was off. I wasn't "working" but my brain was still in "go-mode". I know everybody works a lot. I'm not complaining. Just telling.
Goodnight.
I can always tell when I need some time off because Sunday nights feel just like this. I even took two days off last week, but I stayed in town and so it didn't really feel like I was off. I wasn't "working" but my brain was still in "go-mode". I know everybody works a lot. I'm not complaining. Just telling.
Goodnight.
31.3.06
My Blog Has Recieved A Lot More Hits...
ever since I published a post with the words "Britney Spears" and "Naked" in it. ATTENTION 14 YEAR OLD BOYS: DON"T YOU KNOW YOU'LL GO BLIND?
30.3.06
Is You Is Or Is You Ain't? (An Article From Emusic.com)
Is You Is Or Is You Ain't?: Christian Indie-Rock
by Michael James McGonigal
Eight years ago, a reedy-voiced genius from Athens, GA, sang the words "I love you Jesus Christ/ Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do" in a crazy, fuzzed-out pop song. Over a chaotic and beautiful backing music that sounded like a marching band from inside your very best dreams, Mangum stretched those 15 syllables out into many dozens. It was just two lines in one song, "King of Carrot Flowers Part Two," off an album called In the Aeroplane Over the Sea that is filled with alternately disturbing and blissed-out, Blake-ian imagery. Mangum had written much of the album in just a few days after he read Diary of Anne Frank for the first time and "kind of lost it," which is of course the only rational response to the Holocaust.
But seeing as Aeroplane was among the best albums of that year, those lines had a pretty large impact in the indie rock community. Expressing a sincere love, even just a potentially sincere love, for Christ was perhaps the last taboo in indie and alt-rock. The Danielson clan had been doing it since 1995, but they were misunderstood as some sort of outsider/joke band (perhaps aided by the quirky nature of their songs and the fact that they all performed in nurses' uniforms).
I interviewed Mangum for a cover story for alt-rock quarterly Puncture, whereupon he allowed that "a song about God was inevitable, because of my upbringing and the intense experiences I had... at church camps." He continued, citing the age-old divide of God versus church. "My love for Christ has more to do with what Christ said and believed in. The church put this bullshit around it and made it this at-times really evil thing. If you attach man to anything, he's gonna fuck it up somehow," he continued, adding, "You think that's too cynical?" Such words do have a ring of truth for those of us who went to church and never once heard a sermon on why it would be harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven than a camel to enter a needle's eye or whether it really made sense to spend so much of the church's money on these big fancy buildings rather than on outreach, not to mention those of us who still have trouble reconciling such actions as the Holy Crusades (the old ones and the more modern versions) with the words "thou shalt not kill."
But this isn't a freshman religion class, and of course there are a multitude of churches and denominations from which to choose, so, um, back to the music.
Whatever the impact of that one song by Neutral Milk Hotel, it was just one song. Today, though, some of the most interesting and celebrated musicians in the "secular indie" scene are devout Christians. But is the music they make Christian music or not? How to address this stuff from the vantage point of Christian music? Should it even be addressed at all? I'm feeling particularly fed up with genre definitions as I search for ways to address the strange but devotional music of the promising new band Page France and the celebrated musician Sufjan Stevens.
I'd already decided to write about this subject of Christian music being made in the indie-rock commuity, when Chris Dahlen wrote about this very thing in a column for the influential website Pitchfork this past January. "I don't know why hipsters hate Jesus," he began. Of course, that's not true, that hipsters hate Christ, though the problem with discussing hipsters is that you'd be very hard-pressed to find a hipster who'll acknowledge he or she actually is one.
Dahlen ends his piece by suggesting folks be more open-minded, to not "shoot the messenger," which sounds good to me. It does concern me that some of the most talented musicians of our day — who are Christians but not operating within the CCM community — do not feel comfortable discussing their faith for fear of being thought of as "stupid, or worse," as a musician friend of mine (who is amazingly talented and worshipped on websites and touted by NPR as a great talent and who unfortunately wishes to remain anonymous) put it while visiting last week.
What I am asking for is an expansion of the definition of Christian music, to also include amazing devotional songs that might not even be written by people within the CCM community. I want more weirdness! I want more questioning! I want better music! I want rock bands that are as great at being rock bands as the Swan Silvertones were at being a vocal quartet! Knowing that God is everywhere, and yeah it's a crazy cliché but that God works in mysterious ways, I'm more interested in hearing amazing songs of devotion than the purported great faith of this or that person. I'm not here to take inventories. I'm less concerned with whether or not Amy Grant had an affair or not, but when it comes to her music, is it any good, as gospel? Does it inspire joy, or make me think about faith in a new way? As such, I would rather listen to the Velvet Underground's gorgeous ballad "Jesus" (a song written by a junkie New York Jew!), or Sufjan's pretty and plaintive "Oh God, Where Are You Now?" than anything in, say, dcTalk's catalog. (Let's face it, they were an important band in the evolution of CCM, but their music was as ridiculously hokey as the best of Vanilla Ice crossed with the worst of U2.)
One of the latest songs to cause ripples within the indie-rock community is "Jesus" by the band Page France. Page France has the makings of greatness, as a single listen to the song "Spine," will attest, seeing as it brings to mind Elf Power playing with Tom Verlaine during his instrumental period. And while some of the band's work is too precious, too twee, as if the group were really holding something back, with time they could be the equal of their influences. They always have interesting lyrics that are clearly Biblically inspired, with blood from stones and burning bushes and angels and lines like "You were made out of my ribs/ We share a heart."
Anyway, this song "Jesus" might upset your mother, but it's clearly a spirited, spiritual song. The three and a half minute number begins with some pleasant acoustic guitar and organ before heading into these sweetly-sung words that have confused many listeners: "And Jesus will come through the ground so dirty/ With worms in his hair and a hand so sturdy/ To call us his magic, we call him worthy." Some might bristle at the tune and call it sacrilege, but I find it one of the more interesting, if not a tad literal, interpretations of the Resurrection.
Perhaps we need a new category for this kind of stuff? We could call it Alt-Alt-Christian rock? No, that's awful. Think of a name and send it in, I beseech thee
by Michael James McGonigal
Eight years ago, a reedy-voiced genius from Athens, GA, sang the words "I love you Jesus Christ/ Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do" in a crazy, fuzzed-out pop song. Over a chaotic and beautiful backing music that sounded like a marching band from inside your very best dreams, Mangum stretched those 15 syllables out into many dozens. It was just two lines in one song, "King of Carrot Flowers Part Two," off an album called In the Aeroplane Over the Sea that is filled with alternately disturbing and blissed-out, Blake-ian imagery. Mangum had written much of the album in just a few days after he read Diary of Anne Frank for the first time and "kind of lost it," which is of course the only rational response to the Holocaust.
But seeing as Aeroplane was among the best albums of that year, those lines had a pretty large impact in the indie rock community. Expressing a sincere love, even just a potentially sincere love, for Christ was perhaps the last taboo in indie and alt-rock. The Danielson clan had been doing it since 1995, but they were misunderstood as some sort of outsider/joke band (perhaps aided by the quirky nature of their songs and the fact that they all performed in nurses' uniforms).
I interviewed Mangum for a cover story for alt-rock quarterly Puncture, whereupon he allowed that "a song about God was inevitable, because of my upbringing and the intense experiences I had... at church camps." He continued, citing the age-old divide of God versus church. "My love for Christ has more to do with what Christ said and believed in. The church put this bullshit around it and made it this at-times really evil thing. If you attach man to anything, he's gonna fuck it up somehow," he continued, adding, "You think that's too cynical?" Such words do have a ring of truth for those of us who went to church and never once heard a sermon on why it would be harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven than a camel to enter a needle's eye or whether it really made sense to spend so much of the church's money on these big fancy buildings rather than on outreach, not to mention those of us who still have trouble reconciling such actions as the Holy Crusades (the old ones and the more modern versions) with the words "thou shalt not kill."
But this isn't a freshman religion class, and of course there are a multitude of churches and denominations from which to choose, so, um, back to the music.
Whatever the impact of that one song by Neutral Milk Hotel, it was just one song. Today, though, some of the most interesting and celebrated musicians in the "secular indie" scene are devout Christians. But is the music they make Christian music or not? How to address this stuff from the vantage point of Christian music? Should it even be addressed at all? I'm feeling particularly fed up with genre definitions as I search for ways to address the strange but devotional music of the promising new band Page France and the celebrated musician Sufjan Stevens.
I'd already decided to write about this subject of Christian music being made in the indie-rock commuity, when Chris Dahlen wrote about this very thing in a column for the influential website Pitchfork this past January. "I don't know why hipsters hate Jesus," he began. Of course, that's not true, that hipsters hate Christ, though the problem with discussing hipsters is that you'd be very hard-pressed to find a hipster who'll acknowledge he or she actually is one.
Dahlen ends his piece by suggesting folks be more open-minded, to not "shoot the messenger," which sounds good to me. It does concern me that some of the most talented musicians of our day — who are Christians but not operating within the CCM community — do not feel comfortable discussing their faith for fear of being thought of as "stupid, or worse," as a musician friend of mine (who is amazingly talented and worshipped on websites and touted by NPR as a great talent and who unfortunately wishes to remain anonymous) put it while visiting last week.
What I am asking for is an expansion of the definition of Christian music, to also include amazing devotional songs that might not even be written by people within the CCM community. I want more weirdness! I want more questioning! I want better music! I want rock bands that are as great at being rock bands as the Swan Silvertones were at being a vocal quartet! Knowing that God is everywhere, and yeah it's a crazy cliché but that God works in mysterious ways, I'm more interested in hearing amazing songs of devotion than the purported great faith of this or that person. I'm not here to take inventories. I'm less concerned with whether or not Amy Grant had an affair or not, but when it comes to her music, is it any good, as gospel? Does it inspire joy, or make me think about faith in a new way? As such, I would rather listen to the Velvet Underground's gorgeous ballad "Jesus" (a song written by a junkie New York Jew!), or Sufjan's pretty and plaintive "Oh God, Where Are You Now?" than anything in, say, dcTalk's catalog. (Let's face it, they were an important band in the evolution of CCM, but their music was as ridiculously hokey as the best of Vanilla Ice crossed with the worst of U2.)
One of the latest songs to cause ripples within the indie-rock community is "Jesus" by the band Page France. Page France has the makings of greatness, as a single listen to the song "Spine," will attest, seeing as it brings to mind Elf Power playing with Tom Verlaine during his instrumental period. And while some of the band's work is too precious, too twee, as if the group were really holding something back, with time they could be the equal of their influences. They always have interesting lyrics that are clearly Biblically inspired, with blood from stones and burning bushes and angels and lines like "You were made out of my ribs/ We share a heart."
Anyway, this song "Jesus" might upset your mother, but it's clearly a spirited, spiritual song. The three and a half minute number begins with some pleasant acoustic guitar and organ before heading into these sweetly-sung words that have confused many listeners: "And Jesus will come through the ground so dirty/ With worms in his hair and a hand so sturdy/ To call us his magic, we call him worthy." Some might bristle at the tune and call it sacrilege, but I find it one of the more interesting, if not a tad literal, interpretations of the Resurrection.
Perhaps we need a new category for this kind of stuff? We could call it Alt-Alt-Christian rock? No, that's awful. Think of a name and send it in, I beseech thee
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