Hope, Hell, and Hedonism

I recently came across a lengthy post on /r/Catholicism that was deeply troubling and saddening. The TL;DR is this guy struggled with the "historical [Catholic] Church teaching and traditional interpretations of Hell" that Hell is an "eternal, inescapable" reality for "those who die in mortal sin". His thought is that it seems contrary to God's benevolence that He would send a person that He created to Hell for eternal punishment for a temporary and finite sin. Moreover, the poster takes issue with the fact that it seems the Church teaches or at least has taught that the majority of people go to Hell, but how could God punish people for following what they thought was right, they just were unable through temporal or geographical means to join the Church. In summary, it seems like he has two issues with the Catholic position:

1) No salvation outside the Church
2) The eternity of Hell

The first is a question of Church teaching on who is saved. There are many writings by Church Fathers and by the Magisterium in the form of encyclicals on this subject. I will not go into a ton of detail here on the matter. I will, however, say that no salvation outside of Christ's Church is taken to mean that only the baptized will be saved, but the definition of baptism can be taken loosely to mean that those baptized by fire or desire are valid forms of baptism. Since God is Truth, we have no reason to not believe those who desire truth or die for it in the form they know, for no truth is such unless it reflects THE Truth, do not eventually reach Heaven.

The second question, however, I will address at length as it seems to be a lack of both faith and reason that causes this problem to arise for people. Firstly, reason ought to tell us that Hell should be eternal, not despite God's goodness and mercy, but because of it. Aquinas addresses this point in the Supplemental section of the Summa Theologiae (Supp. 99.1). The Redditor takes issue with the fact that eternal torment in Hell seems like an extreme act of wrath compared to the temporal, finite sin committed that sends a person there. Aquinas addresses this point directly, saying that the sin, though finite in duration, is infinite in severity because it is committed against an infinite being. Thus, the punishment ought to be reciprocal. We, however, are finite beings and cannot be punished with infinite severity, and so justly should be punished for infinite duration. Now, I get that this seems unsatisfying, even if rational, since God is infinitely good and merciful, shouldn't He be able to forgive sins? Precisely! Why do you think He suffered on the cross? I know this guy, and most Christians know this obviously, but think Catholics still think that dying in a state of mortal sin sends people to Hell. And I argue that that position is defensible given a proper understanding of mortal sin. The way Aquinas understands sin is as a fault against charity, which is a fault against God as "God is love" (1 John 4:7).  Mortal sin, therefore, is understood to be a willful rejection of God. One who sins mortally says, "I put my faith in this finite thing instead of in you, Lord" seeking the lesser good over the greatest good. Yes, we are able to repent by God's grace, but if someone does not repent and say they want to be reunited to God, it would seem unjust to force them to spend eternity is God's presence, even if it is good for them. I think this problem, then, rises from a misunderstanding of mortal sin. The Church teaches that mortal sin needs to be grave in object, as well as willfully and knowingly performed. Mortal sin requires a willful rejection of God, this is why Aquinas says "from the very fact that he commits a mortal sin, he places his end in a creature; and since the whole of life is directed to its end, it follows that for this very reason he directs the whole of his life to that sin, and is willing to remain in sin forever" (Supp. 99.1). By no means would something like an Aboriginal Australian boy masturbating because it feels good fall into this category. Nor a Protestant not attending a Catholic Mass on Sunday because they do not think it is necessary for salvation.

The second fault, I think, in disagreeing with the eternity of Hell is one of lack of faith. People who struggle with the eternity of Hell often struggle with scrupulosity and despair, which seems logical if you believe that sinning sends you to Hell. The problem here is with despair. As Aquinas (and Aristotle) teach, vices are the extremes of virtues. Here, scrupulosity is a privation of hope. A lack of hope in God's mercy, despair, leads to the faulty thought that our sins are too great to be forgiven. What sin could be greater than killing God incarnate? Yet Christ forgave this sin immediately and without hesitation: "And Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do'" (Luke 23:34) (there is the knowledge part of mortal sin being supported Scripturally as well). If this could be forgiven, who could not have hope in the mercy of God for sins, even if serious, especially if they are committed without full knowledge! The danger here, however, is to not move to the other extreme of hope: presumption. Which is precisely what I think is at the root of the Purgatorial Universalism that the poster says he has come to believe. Hoping in God's mercy is much different than presuming that all are saved by it. For presumption in the mercy of God rejects the truth of human free will, which is the greatest act of love conceivable!

Some ask, "Why wouldn't God create people who could only do good if he is all-powerful and all-good? Does he not want all of humanity to be with Him?" Well of course he does! But He, out of perfect love, gives us the chance to say no. Now, if we do not make an informed choice and out of ignorance (this goes back to the full knowledge part of mortal sin) then why would He force us against our will? If someone was in love with someone and wanted to get married to them and work their whole life to provide for them and wants nothing but good for them, and the other person knew that, but did not love them back, would we not say that it would be evil if the in-love person forced them to marry them? If they truly loved the other person, would they not respect their wish to not marry them, or even to enter a marriage with someone else, even if that is not what is best for them? Even if you disagree that this is true, and would say that the person ought to use force and coercion to stop their love from entering into a marriage that they know will be harmful, would you not say that the marriage of force is at least not as good as one based on true love? So, if God forced all people to do good and want Him so that more people would be in Heaven, how can we say that this is better than if only few people went to Heaven, but their love for God was so much greater since it was a free choice? This is why Paul says for husbands to love their wives "as Christ loved the Church" (Ephesians 5:25) and why Jesus calls himself the "bridegroom" (Matthew 9:14, Mark 2:18, Luke 5:33) and the Church is his "bride" (Revelation 21:2). But what bridegroom, loving his bride, would not allow her to leave him before their wedding if she wished?

Finally, if a lack of faith and hope, for "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1), then how are we to hope? Hope is not something everyone just has, clearly, and it is easy to stray from. Sin turns us from hope and easily leads to despair. One of the best things I've heard of hope was a homily I had the pleasure of listening to a few weeks ago at Mass. The priest (a member of the FSSP) talked about the link between self-mortification and hope. How practice of discipline through self-mortification exhibits and cultivates hope in God's mercy. This seems odd? How can depriving yourself of things, good things, lead to hope in salvation? It is because suffering is made perfect and holy through Christ's Passion: "Through him we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand" (Romans 5:2). Paul does not stop here, however, for "More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Romans 5:3-5). There is a lot there, for it would take a whole book to exegete, but Paul extols us to practice self-mortification, to fast, to deprive ourselves of small goods to unite ourselves to the Passion of Christ, which is the greatest source of hope! In this way, self-mortification staves off despair and presumption. It seems to be a hallmark of our time to reject self-mortification. We are told to indulge our every desire, promised that that is true freedom and produces happiness. I think this may be at the root of the seemingly recent push back against the teaching of Hell. In a world of indulgence, we are accustomed to getting everything we desire, thereby growing to think that we have a right to good things. Thus, people think we have a right to Heaven, that God cannot possibly send people to Hell, for depriving us of our rights is unjust! But we forget that no man can merit Heaven, it is only by Cross that we are able to repent and turn to God with hope in His abundant mercy.

A Big Lake, Tall Buildings, and 50,000 People

I recently traveled to Chicago to see a concert, among other things. This was my first real experience in a big city so I think it's important enough to write about it. This post will be in two parts: the city, and the show, but they're all really the same.

Chicago

I've never truly been to a city before. I've visited DC and Philadelphia and I suppose Charlotte and Orlando if you want to even attempt to count those, but none of these are quite the same. Either way, during all of those trips, I've never lived in the city for multiple days and experienced it for what it was.

When we went to Chicago, we were in the actual city (sort of), lived more than visited (sort of), and overall just got a better experience than I have on the average vacation. I qualify those for a couple of reasons: we were technically in the suburbs (but Chicago suburbs are about the same as downtown Raleigh), we were still tourists, and we were only there for about four days. Despite all this, it was by far a completely different experience than I've had before. 

I know two types of environments. I'm mostly in the southern suburban culture that involves friendly people, long travel times, lots of landscaping, and the same five restaurants. It doesn't change much, but it's familiar. The other is that of pure outdoors. Rivers, trees, dirt, rocks, and the occasional hammock. It's a good place.

Large cities are like neither. Millions of people live together in one place in an impressively well-run environment orchestrated by local infrastructure. Everything you need is within a short walk (unless you need Walmart or a gas station, since those seem to not exist). Everything is shared by others, your transportation, your land, your building, your office. 

On the train, an automated yet casual voice informs the passengers where you're headed. "Doors closing. This is a Red Line train heading to 95/Dan Ryan. The next stop is Lake. Doors open on the left at Lake." It's a good system, easy to use, cheap, and relatively fast. The electric cars accelerate quickly and attempt to knock you over if you aren't holding a handlebar, but if you get the right footing it's fun to attempt to not fall over (and the whole train will hate you if you do). The train wasn't what I expected; I imagined a completely underground train that would be hot and full of exactly the sort of person you wouldn't want to be stuck on a train with. But it wasn't that. It's only underground downtown; everywhere else it's about twenty feet above the roads. The people were normal, you bought tickets in a vending machine, the stops only took about twenty seconds. 

Chicago was strange and wonderful and easy to live in. Interestingly, despite the metro environment that meant that everyone does everything together, an "every man for himself" attitude permeated the city. No one really talks to each other, or nods their head when they pass by, or anything else I'm used to. I don't think this is a bad thing, it's just not something I'm used to. I found it odd that a city of three million people could sometimes feel less populated than Wake Forest. 

I've always said that I should live in a city when I get older. They're more convenient and certainly more efficient than the one acre lot neighborhoods a lot of us live in these days. I think most people should live in cities unless they have a legitimate reason not to do so, since it's just better for the world in general.

After visiting though, I don't think I want to. I loved it there, but I don't think I would like living there. Even though it was new and interesting and exciting, I don't think I was ever quite comfortable. Not enough to live there full time. 

I do think that all of us should go visit a city sometime though. It definitely gives an interesting prospective if you've never been to one. There's also just a ton of things to do. It's pretty cool.

The Show

You probably know this, but the main reason I went was to see Coldplay in concert. That night was an entirely different experience. 

If Chicago was slightly impersonal, the concert was quite the opposite. I don't know how it happened. There were like 55 thousand people there that night, and somehow there was a huge sense of community and smallness. I'm sure the fact that I was near the front had something to do with it, but everyone got the feeling that the people sitting 500 feet from the stage saw just as good a show. 

Initially, the show got rained out. There was a huge storm and no one was allowed in the stands. The field people hung out in the tunnel beneath the stadium while we waited out the storm, and the stands people hung out in the vendor areas and under the stadium seats. The two opening acts got cancelled and every seat had a puddle on it. But no one cared. We were all just happy to be there.

Coldplay came on an hour after the scheduled time and it was better than anything I expected. I've been to several concerts before, but none of them compare at all. I feel like a lot of shows are just "lead singer performs with some support from the rest of the band," but this was more "here's Coldplay." 

The whole stadium was a part of the show too. Each person was given a light up wrist band when they came in. They're all controlled by a radio signal, so they blinked and glowed in sync for most of the songs. The entire stadium lit up in a field of colored stars, joining in on the visual performance as much as a the musical one. 

I don't really know how to describe the experience. It was somewhere between the feeling you get when you finally go to confession after a long time, or standing on top of a mountain looking down into a huge green valley, or seeing a friend you haven't seen in a couple months (or days), or being at a really good Dan's house. All I can say is that it was one of the better nights of my life.

I don't mean to sound like I'm gloating or anything. The experience was incredible and I'm incredibly lucky and thankful that I got to go. I know a lot of people don't even like Coldplay. Personally I think they're pretty much the best band out there and I don't see how they could sound average at all, but I guess that's cool if you think they are. I get it, they can seem a little weird/gay when they shoot rainbow confetti everywhere and sing about "an adventure of a lifetime" or "a sky full of stars." But it was an adventure of a lifetime and the stadium was a sky full of stars.

I think the song below pretty accurately shows what I like about them. And it perfectly encapsulates what being with you is like.

The Shapes of Sound

I just finished watching Vihart’s “Twelve Tones”. In standard Vihart fashion, she draws too many pictures and drones on in a mysteriously compelling way. This video discusses twelve tone rows in music, which are sequences of twelve consecutive notes that can be arranged in any order with a few rules (I don’t remember them exactly but something like you can’t go back to the note you played two notes before the current and all notes have to be played). The sequences were designed to break the rules of music in order to escape the patterns that had bound music for so long. Typical twentieth century stuff.

Anyway, that’s not the interesting part. Well, it was, but I didn’t really understand it much and didn’t pay enough attention to make any sense of it. What was interesting was the part near the end. 

At the end of the video, Vihart says she likes making shapes with twelve tones. She arranges twelve consecutive notes (by half steps) into a circle, starting with C and going to B (or it might have been A flat and going to G; I’m not quite sure where she started and stopped, but all twelve notes include A flat through G and then start over, so C to B works the same way). It looked like your typical circle of fifths but each note was a half step later instead of a fifth later. Then she sang various sequences of notes and drew the patterns they formed onto the circle. The sequences were largely dictated by the patterns on the circle so they would look nice, but they sounded nice as well.

If this sounds interesting at all you can watch the video below. It’s half an hour long though. The circle bit starts at 24:42. 

This got me thinking. Do people who are musically inclined break sounds down into basic patterns? Like, of course they do, even I do it to some extent. But do they really break them down into their own component parts that all become woven together into an intricate musical tapestry? 

Throughout the entire video, she composes pleasing harmonies out of these seemingly random twelve tone rows. It didn’t even look that difficult, she just sort of made them. I’ve never understood how people do that, but I think I’m starting to get it. 

I’m not musically inclined. Like yeah I can appreciate good music and whatever but it remains a solid chunk. I can’t break it down to see its structure past the most obvious parts. 

See, this is why I don’t like the blogs of teenagers. They always become buckets of narcissism, with every single post revealing some deep dark secret about the author while he tries to make himself sound special and unique and point out the twelve mental disorders he has that plague his life. I hate it. It’s obnoxious. And here I am doing it too.

Anyway, one time Brendan and I were listening to an Imagine Dragons song on the way home and he said something about the drumming in the song. It took me a solid 30 seconds to isolate the drum part from the rest of the song so i could hear it. It’s not that I can’t hear it, it’s just that it’s really hard to separate it from everything else. Like I said, the song is just one big mush of pretty sounds. Like, look at the waveform below. You can’t just pull out the guitar part or the drum part. It’s all one thing. That’s like a really extreme version of how I am. Obviously I can to some extent, but not very well.

And since I can’t do that, I can’t really break music down and see its patterns. If you know me at all (does anyone outside the tribe even read this? Honestly I’d be surprised if half the tribe read this), you know I take crappy artsy pictures of everything. It’s my jam. Seeing is cool, and the pictures make some half-assed attempt at capturing what I see. Sometimes the pictures are actually more interesting than the thing originally was, but not usually. 

Actually, I think this is why the default artsy picture format is a closeup shot of something with the background out of focus, for two reasons: one, seeing things close up is sort of interesting because we don’t do it that often, and two, seeing things with the background out of focus is interesting because it’s halfway impossible to see that in real life, since you can really only put your full attention on something if your eye is actually focusing on it, so you can’t see a blurred out background without accidentally unblurring it. Also, you can only get significantly out of focus backgrounds on phone cameras if you get really close, so there’s three reasons for the default artsy picture, as well as the fact that they’re just easy to take.

Back to what I was saying: I’d say that on average I’m better at seeing than most people. This isn’t me just being an arrogant prick, I just think I tend to notice more. On a purely physical level I’m actually pretty terrible since I need glasses to have anything more than a few feet away be in proper focus. But I think this is why I’m decent at taking pictures or drawing. Just like how good musicians can break down music and (presumably) see their underlying patterns, I can sort of do the same with visual stuff.

So this is starting to make sense of how musical talent in composing can come so naturally to some. If you can break down sounds into the patterns that build them up, then you can probably make your own or add things to existing sounds. In the video, Vihart created sort of random twelve tone sequences (random in that she only made a couple adjustments to make it sound decent), and then added in a bunch of harmonies to flesh it out into an actual song. And it sounded good. If she can break things down into their shapes, like at the end of the video, then of course she can add more shapes to complement the existing ones. I do it all the time, but with visual shapes. Her shapes are just made of sound instead of space. 

So the question is, can you learn to hear, or learn to see?

I’d say mostly yes. I learned to see like I do now. Five years ago I was pretty bad, and now I’m only kind of bad. It’s quite the improvement. But seriously, taking a couple art classes taught me to notice things and see more. But looking back, I was already better than most people my age, so I didn’t necessarily start from nothing. If you were to start from nothing, can you even start at all? In other words, if you have no talent in something, can you even develop the skill?

I guess the answer to that question is that most people don’t have zero skill in most things, especially in the areas that we use literally every day like hearing or seeing. So while a person could suck at seeing and noticing now, they could probably learn to do so if they wanted. Likewise, I could probably learn to hear better if I tried.

The hardest part is figuring out how to learn that. I guess I could take a music class or something, but I’m worried it would go like a literature class where I desperately try to pull out meaning and imagery from a book even though I can’t really find any. Even so, it might be worth it. 

Seeing well is one of the coolest things and I can only begin to imagine what it would be like if I could hear half as well as I can see. And I’m not even that good at noticing the things I see. I wonder what it would be like to be as good at seeing as Gregory Heisler (one of my favorite photographers) or as good at hearing as someone like Mozart or even Bon Iver or someone. Even experiencing what Brendan or Cameron experiences would be cool (Brendan denies being any good at this but I don’t believe him, and I’ve never talked about it with Cameron but I imagine he’s better than most). 

Hopefully, someday I will be able to see the shapes of sound.

The Skeleton War

Wife

Months ago on that cold, sandy shore

My lover had left me for the Skeleton War

The ship horns blew and rattled my bones

Nobody could know when they would come home

A brutal conflict between bones and beast

The mortal conflict for the newly deceased

The struggle for calcium, the thousands of slain

My love. My cherished. My hope. My pain

But I have a job to do as well

For pain nor love, must I dwell

Homes and bones, I must protect

Temporary emotional disconnect

“No Milk Monday,” says the Clerk

“Oh dear. You’re right. I’m sorry!”, I smirk

I hope my sacrifice will do them well

I put the milk back that they will not sell

Water the plants, watering hose.

Step inside. Empty. Morose.

My skeleton life feels frail and dry

I wish I had tear ducts just to cry

But firm and strong, these bones must stand

to protect our beautiful, bony land

Though in my marrow, I still feel as well

War, undoubtedly, is worse than hell

Husband

Squadrons align. Ivory flesh I bear

trembles, quivers, in this burning air

Millions of skele-lads in this cruel warzone

Yet deep in my marrow, I still feel so alone

My lover back home knows all that I’ve done

and I soon hope to return, once this war has been won

Worry not my love, for you must only wait

Evading capture above from those black, pearly gates

Though the enemy is here, and closing in fast

Our general is slack-jawed, gazing aghast

Bones have a funny way of surviving though

When home is the goal, I’m not letting go

Acid grenades functioning, and ready at my belt

I bite the pin, and my hope, silently praying to myself

“Lord, you sick monster. Stealing my heaven from me.

I found happiness in hell, yet you won’t let me be.”

“You call yourself love, but you take mine away.

Your mercy is a lie, but we all have to pay.”

It felt like time stopped, after I let the bomb go

But when I felt my bones burning, I was another lost woe

Our Family

It was early in the morning. Fixing my skeleton hair.

There was a knock at the door. I yelled, “Be right there!”

The slab opens wide, two-suited skeleton soldiers

I fell to my kneecaps, a crushing weight on my shoulders

“We’re terribly sorry for your great loss.”

“Thank you”, I mutter, bearing the heaviest cross

The world spins around me. What does this mean?

My chest is exploding. My skull, a smoke screen

Every orifice I have is manifested by shock

My strong, healthy bones felt as brittle as chalk

Every hope for us. All the years we spent

Our home. Our dreams. Our future. My lament

The time can’t fly, without any wings

An angel has died. Empty throne. No king.

College time.

The cool thing about having all your friends be the same age as you is that you all get to experience new things at the same time. Everyone gets to go through the same problems, discover the same joys, encounter the same new responsibilities. It's nice and comforting. You aren't alone.

But the horrible thing about having all your friends be the same age as you is that you all have to experience new things at the same time. It's quite terrifying, since you can't learn from any of them.

Look! I'm pulling a Brendan.

Side note: Another interesting example of the subtle but still very much existent difference between the words "get" and "have". "You get to experience this together" vs. "You have to experience this together." Thanks Mr. McCants!

My paragraphs are too short and they look weird. Side notes screw everything up. Anyway. College is probably going to be the biggest, most life changing experience that any of us have gone through together yet (lol juice). We're (most of us) moving away from home, living in weird one–room apartments, doing, like, other things by ourselves, and just generally being somewhat more independent than normal. It sounds rather trivial typed out, but it really isn't.

But I'm not ready for that.

I'm sort of ready. But I'm not ready ready. I bought everything I need (or think I'll need; I'm sure there's more). I paid for school. I filled all the paperwork. I got into the honors program two and a half months after the deadline. I bought books. I bought my Klean Kanteen. I completely overhauled my wardrobe and pretended I'm some halfway preppy guy (but let's be honest, my favorite outfit is still a pair of athletic shorts, a white tshirt, and nothing else. Even socks sort of annoy me. I'm not sure how this is going to work out).

Okay, cool. I have all the tangible things I need. But I'm still not emotionally ready, or experientially ready, or mentally ready, or just ready in the "dude you're going to college and you can barely function as it is" sense. I have no idea what I'm doing.

But I guess that's just how life is. We figure it out, we fake it til we make it, we pray about it, and generally treat life as one big trial and error experiment. Or at least I do. I dunno what the rest of you do.

Since the age of 7 I've been involved in the BSA, and they continually reminded us of scouting's motto of "Be Prepared". By now it's pretty ingrained into my head to be prepared for whatever I do (but somehow I tend to not be very prepared), but I'm not feeling very prepared right now. But similarly to how Blake is going to share his crock pot and truck, I guess we'll just have to rely on each other. We're all going to have difference experiences and learn different things, so it seems best to share these in this crazed new world we're about to enter. I don't think there's any other way to stay prepared other than to prepare as we go.

And I think that's why I think it's so cool that so many of us are going off to school with friends. These are people that we already know, and we've all been through a lot together. And now we get to figure this new life out together too. For the past four to six years I've constantly been told "You won't be friends with your high school friends in college," or "Once you get to college you'll forget about anything that happened in high school because no one cares anymore," or "You shouldn't go to college with your high school friends because you'll limit yourself socially."

But they're wrong. Usually, when someone who has an entire live's worth of experience tells me something, I'll be like okay, they probably know more than me and I should probably trust them. But this time? Not so much. I think college will be that much better because we get to do it together. As Jack Johnson says, we're better together.

I'm not just talking about me and Brendan and Blake either. Cameron has Mary Christine and Becker (who aren't in the tribe but basically are anyway), Cassidy has like, the iMessage group and stuff, Lucas is with Dan, etc. But on top of all that, I really do think we'll all still stay together as a group through college. We'll meet up on breaks with too much frequency, we'll probably have skype calls every other night, we'll text more than we do now (and they said guys never text each other).

So I don't think there will be any issues there. We'll all make other friends, which is good. It would be stupid of us not to, and honestly I don't think we could not make other friends if we tried. Cause we're the cool kids, right? But the tribe will continue to exist, and college is gonna be great.

The next four years of our lives will probably be the best four years we've ever had, and I'm glad we get to do that mostly together.

Popular Music and Why Most of It Sucks

This post will be rank with opinion, so try not to be offended. Alright, so ever since I was old enough to understand music I listened to the weird stuff. Ranging from Deathcore and progressive metal, to chill indie and EDM (electronic dance music), my taste was far from normal (seriously guys my favorite band was Born of Osiris when I was 12). After thinking carefully about this, I think I finally understand why. Popular music these days just sucks chode. Most popular artists don't even write their own music anymore, and those that do are hard to find, and often much less popular (i.e. Beyonce vs. Imagine Dragons or Mumford and Sons). The thing about this is that most popular musical artists only write music with the intent that OTHERS like it. In other words, they cater to the audience to sell more and thus make a greater profit. Now, there are some popular bands that DO write their own music (the two listed above), but they are not NEARLY as popular as the titans near the top. Unfortunately, these bands will probably just fade away when the fads change, but lets bring this down to our level. Personally I could care less if someone liked or disliked my own music, what matters to me is that I enjoy playing it. This is why you don't see me in the stereotypical group of girls playing 'Hey There Delilah' until old age and despondency consume my soul. To be honest, I hate it when musicians only know how to play OTHER people's songs, it's silly. To learn Hey There Delilah, just because you want attention from others is sad. I'd rather sit there and improv everything I play- "hey play Crazy Train" "FUCK. OFF"-, and then build up the skills to play other artist's music if the need arises. In my opinion, this way is much better than learning a whole slew of songs, because you would never learn to come up with anything on your own- "yea man I can play every Dragon Force song......what do you mean you just want to jam". So the reason that I enjoy weird music is because it was not created to be mass produced. It's like the difference between a hand carved statue, and one that was made in the factory. Yes, the hand carved statue has more flaws, but it was made for art's sake, not for the consumer's sake. Music is becoming less of an art form, and more of a mass produced commodity/ fashion statement/ fad. "Oh yes I only listen to indie, can't you tell by my weird clothes and the scent of weed?" or "Yea dude I just got a new pair of skinny jeans and Toms for this years Warped Tour". No No No No No. Please Stop. I love Hardcore and indie as much as the next guy, but I don't dress like a concert poster. Let's all just bring it back to the music, and support artists who are trying to make their own place in this fucked up power struggle for the top 40s chart (and even more for those who just don't give a shit).

On Family

Over the past several days, I've spent a lot of time with my family. Usually I'll spend a few hours a day at most with them, and then spend the rest off on my own or with friends. But over these past few days, I've spent every waking hour in their presence as we explored the island and found new adventures. And during that time, I learned a lot about my relationship with them.

My relationship with my family is most certainly not the best. They don't really know me, mostly because I don't let them. They aren't the most fun to be around and we fight a lot. But even though I tend to enjoy the time spent with friends more, there's a certain satisfaction in the time spent with the family. There's no worries about whether they about whether they actually like me or find what I say interesting or, perhaps most importantly, will still keep in touch in five years.

In other words, the family offers a certain permanence in its relationship with me that no one else can.

I plan to be friends with all of you in five years. But suppose we aren't? For some of us, it's extremely unlikely. And as we are a pretty solid group, I think we'll stick together. Unless someone somewhat deliberately splits himself off from everyone else, it seems that we'll stay together.

But what about in twenty years? Fifty? Again, I'm not trying to assume that we won't be. But the question still remains.

With the family, however, that question is practically non-existent. You might not speak to your sibling for four years, but you know that once you do speak again everything will return to normal. The family offers a security in its relationships. They are lasting.

Of course, there's always the cases of families that break apart. But even then, it's incredibly difficult to break that bond. Serious, grave offences must be committed to even attempt to separate two people in the family with any sort of permanence. Because that's what the family is: it is permanent, well-guarded against such disasters.

My sister may be one of the most ego-driven, annoying, and wrong person I know (so am I though), but the fact remains that she is my sister. And that will always be the case.

The tribe has become even more family-like over the years. But we aren't there yet. Let's keep trying.

The Role of the Gluteus Minor in Hip Extension

Why the fuck would you click this post? Honestly? Go outside and enjoy the damn holiday with family and friends. Celebrate today like our founding fathers would have done with some old fashioned vitamin D (even though this isn't actually Independence Day but whatever).

Re: Real Talk with Brendan

AKA really just Zach's relationship with music.

Note: I'm typing this on an iPad and it's terrible. Literally the worst thing I've done. Oh my gosh the keyboard just disappeared. But it still works. Picture below. I'm typing blind. No keys. They only appear once you tap them. Please help. 

Music is strongly related to memory and relationships for me. 

All of my favorite songs are almost universally not my favorite because they sound good, but because I have strong emotions related to them. Sometimes I first heard it during a certain event. Or I really grew to like it during one of those times. Or sometimes I really only like it because someone else likes it.

For example, I like most Irish folk songs because I strongly associate them with the trip to Hampden-Sydney.

I like My Moon My Man by Feist because Brendan played it after school one day Junior year when I was just starting to become a part of the tribe.

I like Polaroid by Imagine Dragons because Brendan likes it, I guess. I never really liked it at first, but then I sort of realized it represents my relationship with Brendan and all of our carpool talks. It's my favorite song on the album now.

And I like Toes by Zac Brown Band because, in a way, it sort of embodies my relationship with Blake. I don't really know why, it just does. 

Why is this? Music, like any form of art, demands a strong emotional response from us. It's created to do so—it's emotional in nature. It's supposed to convey meaning, information, beauty. And beauty evokes emotion in us.

And yet for some reason music does this for me the most. Visual art almost never does this. I'm an incredibly visual person, but visual art never seems to evoke any emotion in me. At most I'll think "that's cool" or "that light is really interesting". Sometimes a picture of friends will do a little, but never like music does.

In the same (but opposite) way, I'm not an auditory person at all. It's incredibly difficult to separate sound into the three deminsional array of layers and reflections and textures that the visual world is. Images constantly spin in my head, revealing all of their hidden caverns and interior converging lines. But music (or sound) never does this. It remains flat, in a constant stream of static input that shows only its most obvious side.

I'm exaggerating slightly here. I really enjoy music, but I can't play with it in my head like I do with pictures. If that makes any sense. There's no spiderweb of infinite possibilities with music. 

Anyway. The point is even though I tend to respond better to imagery, music conveys emotion and gets a response way more than images do. Those songs I have a strong emotional response to become my favorites. My favorite music is almost never based on the song itself, it's based on the associations I form with the song. For all I know this is a universal thing, but it's equally my thing.

I listen to music to remember. Remember my friends, remember the moments, remember the late night talks and the Tuesday afternoon river trips and the spur of the moment theological explorations in the middle of the woods.

Take a Walk, I Like Birds, Volare, Gooey, Latch, Happy, The Distance. All memories.