If anyone thinks there is some value to fighting, I’ll have to insist there isn’t. For some reason, people seem to think “standing their ground” or “not taking shit” is worth bludgeoning a man to the ground. Everyone understands and detests pain, and yet people are willing to intentionally inflict it on others for their own good, and perhaps enjoyment. What’s more, is that overcoming the resistance to harm another man is glorified within  the fighting community, and maintaining the reluctance to do so earns someone a label of “pussy.” I myself have been called a “pussy” for my choice to avoid violence, a term which implies I am afraid to get hurt. The truth of the matter is I feel there is no cause worth punishing a man’s face.

It also seems like fighting seems to become only a way to prove who’s more“bad ass” in some cases, an accomplishment that’s sadly really only resultant of physical fitness. I had someone threaten to “beat me up” in 8th grade, solely on the grounds that he believed that I thought I was cooler than I was, going from what he said. Here my ego (regardless of how accurate it was at the time) had nothing to do with him, and still there was some reason to fight me.

The aforementioned arguments, involving you “not take shit” or “stand your ground” are respectable in that it conveys to your enemies that you will not be taken advantage of, but after a fight, this achievement is only obtained at the expense of someone’s well being, a feat which succeeds only in making you a selfish asshole. Even though I’m a Christian, and I consciously try to put others before myself, I don’t see why non-Christians as well couldn’t employ some self-control, forgiveness, and genuine altruism.

Even on the other end, as a victim of muscle-head on a mission to prove his “macho,” I’ll maintain non-violence is the preferable option. Amidst a slew of thrown punches, I’d try to block and move away as best I can, and only if I really cannot begin to deter my own harm would I consider throwing one of my own.

And yes sometimes a serious talk would fail as the only other option to violence (although I have to say this in combination with unexpected kindness most always works in less extreme conditions), but maybe the notion of revenge could be disregarded altogether. Leave your assailant’s justice to karma, out of your own hands, (literally) and be the bigger man.

I wanted to shed some light on this subject, because for some reason it seems to be an awkward topic for musicians. I get the impression that some musicians don’t like to talk about moving on stage because they’re afraid they’ll have to admit they planned on it,  that there is some shame in thinking about about how you’re going to move. I also think there is a general consensus that if someone moves on stage, it can’t be anything more than what they “feel like,” or else that’s being somewhat fake, or trying to be cool.

It could be done for ego purposes, I suppose, but if not, I feel there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it moving, maybe even more so than you feel like. Here’s why:

1)   When people go to a show, they are immersed in sound, hopefully giving them an experience that no home speaker can match. But people forget that the experience is more than just the sound. Lights on stage and the presence of the members of the band give the experience a visual aesthetic as well. Your movement on stage also affects that aesthetic. Now, it would make sense to have your visual aesthetic reflect your musical one, so I don’t think there is any shame in putting a little extra effort into moving during a performance. It can reflect the intensity of your song,  conveying more of the same aesthetic, in a visual way. The fact that you are a visual experience on the stage, and you are a musician even suggests you would encourage your musical journey with some related visual expressions. Besides, I think there is something satisfying  overall, about musical and physical movement. I used to visit my old bands website, that had two videos of songs we played at a show. I found myself watching one video more so than the other, and I realized it was because that video had more movement as a band.

As far as planning goes, I believe it’s ok to have some ideas for what to do when. Why not have the most exiting and interesting movement at one of the most exiting parts of the song? It helps express what you wanted to in the music. I’m not saying plan every movement, but maybe an acknowledgement of a fellow member’s solo or a nice head bang at the most culminating part of the song.

2)   Music is an immense thing. It has people tapping their feet to moshing to dry-humping each other in clubs. Everyone loves to move and express their own musical experience. When people go to a performance, they’re not only buying themselves an experience, but also witnessing other fans and even the band experiencing that same experience. Everybody shares that experience, and let us not forget that the ensemble playing wrote the music, creating that experience. Fans get to share some of their favorite musical experiences with the very maker(s) of it, but more importantly, they get to see that maker have that experience.

Now, I as a music writer, I would enjoy showing people exactly how I feel during the experience of the song that’s giving it to me. If everyone is watching me play the song that I created to express myself, I’m going to put every last drop of expression I can spare into that experience, or at least try to, keeping in mind I still have to recreate it accurately (not screw up). Don’t forget that people are there to see, not just hear,  the band or ensemble express themselves, and I feel that at the very least, that ensemble should be seen enjoying themselves. They paid to see you perform, so don’t be a bump on a log.

Again with planning, I think it is acceptable for a musician to practice and explore his outward expression, as well as his visual aesthetic, outside of public performances. It can be done at rehearsals or whenever else you’re playing anything. In the end, movement feels good anyway.

So even towards the end of a set, when everyone is sweaty and ready to collapse, a true musician can still move around and be proud of it. Even though he might not physically prefer to move, he cares about the experience of his music and his own self expression, not his ego or “cool” reputation.

I’ve had two revelations about being a musician:

1 I’ve realized lately that I am very satisfied by and in love with whatever works of music I produce now. I’ve always thought of a musicians life as a never-ending growth and battle for satisfaction. Although I maintain that I’ll always be growing in writing and understanding, I’ve found that there seems to have been a point I’ve crossed where I am the musician I want to be. I can write music I’m truly proud of, and feel expresses what I need it to. I can only imagine what new ideas and sounds my works of music will incorporate in the future, but looking at my old tabs, made wasting-away in our messy spare room while struggling to teach myself guitar, I can see that I’ve come a long way as a musician, and now I’ve reached a point where I can accurately express the musical visions that fill my head. Whats more, is I think all writing-musicians with a similar satisfaction share a common ground, in that they all can express themselves, regardless of how creative or respected their material is.

A few years ago, when I was struggling to write music that made little sense and was barely listenable, I couldn’t look at a real musician and feel like I had anything in common with them. Now, comparing myself to any well-known artist, I feel like we are alike in that we both express ourselves musically, in a proficient manner. Even if they are twelve times the musician I will ever be, we both know what we’re doing, when we put pen to paper.

I think music is  primarily about self expression, and everyone has a “vision” or inspiration for what a product of their own musical self-expression might be. The thing is you have to learn to understand and accurately represent it, so that your product actually sounds like what you had in mind (and I think the same could be said of other arts, although I’m only a musician). I feel like once a musician has learned how to express the ideas he gets, he has graduated in a way, to an elite society of accurate inspiration-expressors: a song-writer. I feel like I share something with the great song0writers of the world.

And here I’d like to restate that I don’t mean I’m as good as other musicians, just that we do the same thing.

2 While I’ve already mentioned inspiration and visions for songs, I wanted to share something else feel, pertaining to this matter:

I’ve noticed that sometimes I can literally hear music I want to express. It could be anything from a note I’d like a riff to go to, to a whole song playing in my head when I’m in a near sleep. The later type of inspiration I’ve been fascinated with for a while, wondering how completely original material can fill my head when I’m not even consciously creating it (I’ll elaborate at a later date), but as for the smaller instances of inspiration like notes or rhythms, I’ve noticed that it is not as strong a factor in my music writing process as it use to be, and I miss it.

I used to employ little inspired ideas  quite often, when I was working on writing music better or writing music first, planning to write lyrics later. Now, however I stand by my philosophy that writing lyrics first, and writing the music to that, makes the best song. I used to get inspired by a little riff or set of riffs, and then that idea would shape the motive of the song, and I was free to write the rest of the song around it. Now, with lyrics shaping the song, pointing out just where the verses, choruses, and bridges are, little musical ideas (I mean strictly music, not lyrics) don’t play as big a role in the writing process. I miss that. I’ve had times where a little idea like that was the beginning of the song, for instance when a vocal melody idea became the second song to my alternative rock solo project, but usually my songs start from a devoted time to write lyrics, not a care-free riff. I don’t think this is any “worse” as a musician, because I think the new process I use creates a better product, but the days of simple riffs starting a song process are over, and I guess I’m a little nostalgic of those times.

But whatever, I still feel on top of my game now, in a serious post-hardcore band that has just finished writing a live set. It’s weird – I’ve been involved with music for long enough now that I’ve noticed definite chapters and periods inherent in the pursuit of growing as a musician.

Music is way cool…

For a few weeks now I find myself wondering what it is that non-artists apply themselves to. As a musician (and dabbler of other art) I’m constantly trying to find more ways of expressing myself and making some sort of an impact on the world, and I realized that without art in my life, I don’t really know what I would do. So, then I realized that there are people in this world who aren’t artists, and there’s quite a few of them.

So I want to learn about what other people apply themselves to and think about everyday. Altruism? Success Recognition? Money? Religion? I’m just curious what other people consider their purpose in life to be, so I can recognize other forms of purpose in the world. I might post this again with a different title to hear from more people

So please comment. I wanna hear what everyone has to say about this.

Thanks

Thanks a lot.
I’ve been disadvantaged from the start
He constrict the veins heading straight to my head,
Rerouted the blood to my heart instead (x2)

I am braindead,
Thinking in strictly in blues and reds.
Oh, I’m in enough trouble man,
Oh man, I’m in trouble again
Cause everyone’s ears are watching me,
But I never, ever felt that this would be
Anything more than a makeshift personal I.V.

(Chorus)
I fall three times as hard
If it’s from nothing at all
You all seem twice as tall as I will ever be.

And I feel terribly small
When my head works too hard
When you think with your chest,
There’s not a thing that you don’t see.

I’m hardly capable of half the damage
That I would like to do
I could swear that I don’t care,
But you know I’m too full of shit
To think this through.

So look at me,
I pray to God
But curse too much to be considered true.
I’m just like me,
I’m just like me,
So who the hell are you?
(End of chorus)

I’m but a boy,
Just like the rest of these thieves.
And I borrow phrases from
Dusty, faded, record sleeves

The story is the same,
I’ve just personalized the name
But if it’s all you need,
Then I’d be more than happy to confess my shame’

(Chorus)

I know you think you know,
But these eyelids are windows
That shut you out from all the things
That I don’t want you to know.
And I refuse to tell you
One single secret I own.
‘Cause you’ll find I’m petrified
Of your eyes.

I’m hardly capable of half the damage
That I would like to do.
I could swear that I don’t care,
But you know I’m too full of shit
To think this through.

I’ve read the book,
I prayed to God,
But cursed too much to be considered true.
I’m just like me,
I’m just like me,
So who the hell are you?

Lyrics courtesy LyricsMode.com

For some reason I have been fascinated with this song for the past couple of days. The song acknowledges some of the thoughts of musicians, and non-surprisingly stirs a lot of emotions in myself, having such a dedication to music. To me, the song brings up this issue:

A true musician wants nothing more than to express his/her true self to as many people as possible. Living in a world where the de-evolution of music is broadcasted everyday on the radio, a musician finds himself struggling between writing more popular, likable music, to hopefully gain more fans and listeners to express to, and writing the most natural, creative, and individual music they can, which in this biased world is often shunned and scoffed at, limiting the amount of people the musician can express his or herself to. It’s something any true musician, as well as myself has thought about. I found it especially Ironic that I never had the idea to right a song about this struggle, and when I finally witnessed such a song, it was quite an ironic slap on the forehead.

I believe the song uses the heart and brain as symbols for the musicians truest musical endeavors, and the material or expressions that are employed to increase popularity, respectively. It also acknowledges the musicians desire for many people to express himself to, comparing himself to the largely successful and well known bands (“You all seem twice as tall as I will ever be,”"I’m hardly capable of half the damage that I would like to do” – damage meaning expression on a mass scale).

I have to say, however, that I might be over-reading on this, or interpreting a completely different meaning, because the beginning part seems contradictory to the rest, in my eyes. The beginning seems to proclaim that he is a true musician, (“I am braindead, thinking in strictly blues and reds”) whereas later on he admits that he wants to be more famous, meaning having more people to express himself to, and thought with “his brain” and wrote likable music, at some expense of his true desires (“And I borrow phrases from dusty, faded, record sleeves. The story is the same, I’ve just personalized the name, but if it’s all you need, then I’d be more than happy to confess my shame”). Here is where I could use some comments… (hint)

As far as the actual song goes, it’s a great piece of music, and the singer does a great job of conveying feeling in his voice. One thing that struck me as particularly likable about this song is the endof the bridge when the singer admits “I’m petrified of your eyes.” I’d argue that the word eyes is the climax of the song. I found myself wondering why exactly that part was so aesthetic, and then I realized that that is the only time the singer ends the last syllable of a phrase on a strong beat. I went back and listened to all of the voice melody and really noticed that most ends of lyrical phrases are on the 2nd or last 8th note of the measures, never really landing strong. Although some phrases do START with a word on a strong beat, it only really ends on a strong beat on “eyes”. It’s o satisfying to hear I think.

Now, if the above musical tactic was done on purpose, then that rocks for the band/singer putting in that much effort. If not, then it must have happened naturally in the music that the band/singer wrote, and that rocks just as much, if not more.

I’m sure you’ve already deducted that I think this is a great song. Check it out. There’s an album download at http://www.alternative2punk.net/2009/05/envy-on-coast-lucy-gray.html

And lastly I just want to acknowledge that in an earlier blog I mentioned that I didn’t know of any other bands besides Between The Buried And Me that wrote about music in their songs (The blog was called “My thoughts on BTBAM lyrics.” Creative, right?).  I guess since I’ve become the frontmanfor my post-hardcore band, and I’ve been paying more attention to lyrics in songs, I’ve come across more bands that actually do acnowlege their musicianship in their songs. It’s cool. I actually started doing it myself.

Comment!

People are exposed to the idea of balance on a regular basis, usually associated loosely with your ability to do something. You might hear someone say “I’m not going near that skateboard. I don’t have balance,” or “He can’t even stand up straight, he must be drunk.” It arises in conversation but isn’t usually thought about in it’s own right. If you think about it, balancing is its own activity, one which I happen to enjoy. It is odd to think about balancing in general as sort of a hobby, but I guess I’ve always been attracted to doing so, whether it was consciously or unconsciously.

So I was hoping the extensive intro above would limit the odd feeling I feel like you’ll get when I say I pretty much am drawn to and seek out things to balance on/with. I’m not saying I count the minutes everyday until I get home to balance on something, but if i come across a new opportunity to balance on something, you can bet I’ll hop onto it, with a smile as big as a candy-pacified toddler. I don’t really know when it started (although my dad told me a story that when I was born, I had managed to sit in an upright position and support and balance my own upper body, a skill which babies aren’t supposed to be able to develop for a few months. I’m not sure how credible the tale is, though), but my earliest memory of balancing was crawling on top of a cylindrical, puffy, mat-thing, they had at Discovery Zone (which was the best place ever). It was probably over a couple feet off the ground, and I was not afraid to crawl on top of it and roll it across the ground, as my aunt watched in a somewhat nervous manner. I think I actually managed to stand up on it as well. I don’t remember how old I was (I’m the worst with guessing ages below middle school, because I don’t have any young relatives probably) but I must have been somewhat young if it was back in the days of Discovery Zone and I was at an appropriate age to belong there.

I also used to balance some long object, upright on my palm or finger, like baseball bats or yard sticks. I had developed the skill before I had even seen anyone else do anything similar, and soon could even flip whatever long object I was balancing over 180 or 360 degrees. The ability was soon shared by my chin as well as my hands. I remember waiting for the buses, looking like a complete tool, balancing tree limbs on my chin, much to the delight  of the “cool kids”. haha. My chin-balancing career highlight was probably either a ladder, or a recycling bin. I’m not sure which.

I had a skateboard for a while I kept indoors and would sit and keep in a manual position with my feet, as I watched tv, did homework, or even under the table as I ate dinner with my family.

I’m just listing stuff now I guess

I found this balance training thing in a surf shop that was basically a board balancing on a ball. That was right up my alley.

When my mom had foot surgery there was a wheel chair around the house that I would sit in and of coarse do a wheelie in. It’s actually quite an easy thing to balance on. I managed to watch TV for an hour once, the whole time maintaining a two-wheel balance, without a foot touching the ground. When I went to visit my aunt in the hospital, I couldn’t help myself from taking the opportunity to balance in another wheelchair, which eventually prompted this blog.

I skateboard occasionally, but don’t often do regular tricks (kick-flips etc) I just ride around and manual or board-slide. I can like truckstand and pogo and stuff.

The latest is probably this thing called slack lining. It’s hard to explain, but it’s more or less just balancing on a rope. It’ll make sense if you youtube it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxBRMCxxcG0&feature=related

Idk I intended this to be more about how interesting of a thing balance is, and not so much a story of all the things I’ve balanced on, but I guess I used that to demonstrate the different things you can do with it. I think it’s really fun. Any situation is better to me with something under my feet to balance myself on.

What do you think? Does anyone else share an interest in balance?

Yeah. quite the experience. Let me walk you through it

So I show up and pay my share of 5 bucks to cover the cost of 6 kegs, a tub full of jungle juice, and a seemingly infinite amount of red cups, and there are already over a hundred people there. I start schmoozing and talking it up with everyone, and have a stunning realization that these people are cool. Having gone to countless parties with hollister-clad gangsters and a soundtrack of “no air” and “disco stick” at every turn, I was thrilled to be in a new atmosphere of a party, with just cooler people. I’d say over three quarters of people I talked to were musicians of some sort, and the chaps with bands even had them play in the house. I found myself more at home at a party where the attendees collectively liked music as much as myself. I made lots of new friends and networked and plugged for my band everwhere.

The bands playing at a party rocked. By the end of the night, people had moshed, knocked non-moshers down the stairs, put at least 3 giant holes in the surrounding walls, and even spilled beer on one of the guitarists guitar. I’m not even exaggerating when I say mosh-resultant shock-waves rippled outwards and spilled drinks from the hands of people in other rooms, beside the “living room” (barely) where the moshing was going on. I didn’t actually get to watch more than a half an hour or so of the four bands that played, and I counted at least 5 drinks that spilled on me.

But wait, it’s not a party until fists are thrown, and that they did. I stayed away from it all, but I’m estimating 3ish fights happened, involving probably close to 20 people, maybe 30 if you count the pull-backers. One guy got pushed into the campfire and burnt his arm, another nailed a girl in the face, and someone else tackled a guy down the same stairs the moshing-reluctant bystander did earlier (all to my enjoyment, mind you).

Then of course the cops came, and not just a couple of cars. Try seven. I counted seven cars in the driveway with my own eyes, and I heard they had roadblocks straddling the house at either end of the block. When they first arrived. though, I went with the people I was talking with at that moment to the darkened corner of the yard and into the bushes, where our under-aged selves could lie low until the cops left. After probably 20 minutes or so, drunken/high groupthink-paranoia set in and soon there were worries of searchlights and dogs, much to my disapproval (and I think I might have heard someone mention a helicopter. haha)

So we collectively buried ourselves further into the dark recesses of a neighboring field, following a forest/hedge line back, away from the house. It wasn’t long before the process started over, and the group motion was to get further away (which I thought was to a pretty ridiculous point). This time we dispersed and lost members of our now fugitive group, and I was left with two younger girls. Then of course soon we needed to meet back up with their friends so we had to cross the forest we were following before, and to no avail. I wasn’t as paranoid as they were, and I wanted to go and find my own friends, but at this point one of the girls had left, and we both didn’t want to leave her by herself to find her way through the forest by herself.

So we crossed… oh wait… Did I mention it was raining out? It was. I was wet as Phuk.

Anyway, we crossed the forest, which was really muddy and wet and vine-filled, only to discover that her friends were on the other side of the field we just crossed onto. So (and I’m abbreviating through countless cycles of “we’re fine here” and then “nope we have to get further away”) we rounded the huge field to the “left side of the field” where her friends told her they would be. When we got there she was told that they were on the other side of yet another forest, and this one made the first look like Dakota Fanning next to Arnold shwarzablahblah. We had no choice but to navigate this one, which had way more shrubbery to hit us in the face, and even vines that we  would get caught in every once in a while. At one point I was completely embraced by vines and I was leaning at a near 45 degree angle before I broke free.

At this point the rained had produced some pretty sinister mud, and it was nearly above the rim of my shoes, which I non-surprisingly ruined. I wasn’t too thrilled with this girl for being such an expert navigator, but we pressed on, even when she wanted to go back. I was like “No. We’re almost all the way through; I’m not turning around now.”

So now completely soaked and muddy to the waist we found ourselves beyond the forest in an open field, but completely void of any landmarks, and not even in sight of the road the house was on. She started to panic but I just aimed for a bright light I saw and figured it would be a house that would lead us to the road, which would in turn lead her to her friends, who were waiting behind a shed of a clueless neighbors a few houses over. The field we were in now had really tall grass, but it was nothing compared to the vines and puddle-streams from the forest.

Blah blah, we walked the probably-haf acre field, I dropped her with her friends and I was by my lonesome. I gave my friends a call, and they were down the road past the house. I wasn’t going to go back past the cops down the road, and I was in no mood to trudge back through the fields and forests to get there. So I stealthy worked my way through the houses’ yards until I found a dark hedge where I could see the driveway and the seven cop cars inhabiting it. I had no choice but to just stand and wait until I could see them leave, and that’s exactly what I did. I was soaked and covered in mud, andI almost died of hypothermia, but for a whole hour I just stood and waited.

Remember this hour I waited was on top of the hour and a half or so it took to round the field and penetrate the forests.

So this party left me with a hell of a story. I wished I could have left and avoided the whole forest-exploring goose-chase but I had no ride or better place to go.

Oh well, the whole night was fun nonetheless. It was probably the biggest, and most eventful party I had been to. No regrets, just some ruined shoes and pants…

The first thing I noticed about this album is that there is a great, full sound. They saturate every god damned riff with poignant flourishes that will keep your attention, and the resulting full sound makes even the most unique chord progressions seem as natural as any of the more commonly used ones. This band’s music becomes quite the experience, with a very deliberate, fluent use of sound throughout. There was even some subtle technical decorations to re-enforce the creativity. Post-anything-genre fans would have a field day. 

Any first time Circa listener will notice that the singer has quite an unusual,  nearly feminine voice. After listening for a while though, the sound grows on you and you begin to suspect it was meant to be that way. I get the impression he explored his vocal chords to find his interpretation of the best sound to come out, surpassing the conventions of usual singing. Such a high voice has an appropriate niche in the music, as well. The range of the voice start to seem like it was meant to be there in the midst of the other sounds happening.

What really sold this album for me, however, was that it’s songs dripped with purpose and motive. Nearly every song had a strongly aesthetic climax, and someone could probably argue that they all did. I could even sense some post-climax warming down, to relax and re-prepare you for the next song. On Letting Go’s songs are the furthest from glued-together riffs. I really respect them for putting so much effort into the motive of their songs and album as opposed to just riffs. This band doesn’t get enough credit. Disperse, listen, and go buy t-shirts or something…

4.5/5 (Not quite a five, because very few parts did fall just short of ultimate aesthetic, but on a whole it’s a great experience)

All of a sudden I find myself really intrigued and inspired by minimalism (if you don’t know what that is, search Steve Reich on Wikipedia). The world of minimalism focuses on music at it’s core, utilizing some of the most basic, but captivating musical experiments, patterns, or themes. I feel like this type of music really pushes the boundaries of what music is, and can be. I just decided I want to be among the few people that have been actively been expanding the walls of music. Today I started another solo project, which will be mostly minimalism and simple, creative material. I went to the park with a guitar and my laptop and left with a wonderful little piece, which I will record soon.

I can definitely say I’m putting my other alt rock solo project on the burner behind the back one, today. I still love my other music, but I have to explore this wonderful new type of it right now. One thing I’m super exited about for the new project is that the ensemble is not set in stone. I can, and undoubtedly will, create pieces of music that use a variety of instruments. What’s more, I can use instruments and ensembles that RECORD A HELL OF A LOT EASIER! I can record much faster and to greater quality. My first song is just an acoustic quartet/quintet, so I can only imagine how much clearer and professional sounding my recording will be compared to the tricky rock band ensemble I was recording before. I can pretty much write a good piece of minimalism music and record it all in a night, which means I can record and upload way faster.

Also, lyrics won’t slow me down with this projects. In fact, they will barely be present in most of my pieces, so I don’t have to wait till I have written them to start writing the music.

Wish me luck! I’ll keep you updated…

A good friend of mine, Jake,  passed away a while ago. He was a great, charismatic, considerate person whowas known and loved by almost all of his high school. When he died a few months back, he was given a very nice, school-wide funeral. On a personal note, I’ve been fortunate enough to not have lost any close relatives, or even anyone at all that I knew, until now. After 18 years of my tragedy-void life, Jake was the first person I cared about that I had to see leave us. So the following funeral, was the first I’ve witnessed. Recently though, there was a big talent-show-like program to raise money for the newly created scholarship in his name. With both of these events, I noticed a few things.

1 – sometimes people use someones death for their own benefit. Making speeches that beat it to the curb, subconsciously enjoying the little bit of limelight they get. The second event I mentioned above seemed like a ploy for the person who organized it to check off on his eagle project, and the “performers” to get a little bit of fame. I think some of the speeches you’ll undoubtedly hear at any funeral instantly begin to engage in a awkward competition of who can say the saddest words, make the most people cry, and bring up the largest amount of those recycled phrases associated with any death for no apparent reason. I constantly heard “he’ll shine down on us” or “he’s an angel.” Give me a break. The guy finally was called home by God, and is rocking out at the big party in the sky. People just say that because they’ve heard it before and think it’s the right thing to say (or maybe to win the above-stated competition). He can probably see us when he wants to, but I think people make death to be more of a fairy tale than it really is.

2 – I think this next idea applies to lots of situations, not just in time of loss. People seem to be driven to expect they will be in more of a dramatic situation than they really are. I see many people dealing with situations as if it is more of an end-all, apocalyptic situation. Although I am fairly certain of this subconscious tendency, I’m like 90% sure that it stems from media. Movies, TV, and other media, but the first two especially. People are constantly exposed to readily-available scenes of people crying and dying and characters put in the most dramatic of situations. I think when a somewhat dramatic situation arises, some people think , “Oh my God, I’m in one of those situations now”, (when they’re really not at all) and subconsciously act as such, half-heartedly acting for some invisible audience. Obviously losing a loved one is quite the tragic situation, but I could still see some overreacting and subconsciousness dramatizing at the second event. There was a speech made where the person actually said “I thought I’d be crying by now”. Yeah, because you already paid your respect, let him go, and lived on. You wanted to make a speech, because you didn’t get to compete in the competition from before, and you had some subconscious need to try to make this situation more dramatic than it needed to be. She read two poems that didn’t even make sense. It was so awkward, going back and forth from a crappy homemade play to a too dramatic speech.

The second event bugged me more than anything else, because I think it’s natural to pay your respects and LIVE ON. The dead don’t get to live, so the living should, and I don’t know how alive I’d feel if I was making random insincere speaches  about our dead loved ones, months and months after the fact. There were even random plays and a crappy band playing. It seemed like they dug Jake up and rolled him around or something by trying to bring back all the emotional stuff when so much time had passed. Rest in peace means rest in peace.