Have I mentioned lately that my mind is...well, not completely twisted, but rather, unremorsefully bent? And that those bend patterns are subject to change at any random moment?
Today's little post is an example...I put out a blog post a while back remunerating on the Muppet Show's "Pigs in Space" segments, and the other day, I was at work with Black Sabbath's 'War Pigs' cycling over and over in my mind.
Within the landscape of my mind, the two met, hit it off, married in a grandiose ceremony complete with a 10 piece polka band and 5 course dinner (and open bar, because, yea...free beer) before the love-child started to show - and today's picture is the offspring of that union.
In my mind, earworms invade at their own risk...
I've never before bothered to actually look up the lyrics to this old 'Sabbath song - but today, it was a research item who's time had come.
Given the number of 'military incursions' in process by various countries at any given time - I'd say the lyrics are just as profound now as they were when written. What is with us humans, anyway? Status - resources - ego - the cute little blonde chick at the bar - we fight over just about anything.
Our bio-engineers should stop trying to re-invent the wheel in their never-ending tweaking of pharmacological formulae JUST enough to re-patent the results as "New and Improved," and instead create a virus which increases empathy in humans. THAT would be a significant advance toward the betterment of all humankind...once the recipients recovered from the shock of being able to feel the emotional emanations of their fellows.
Granted, we'd have to go through the whole "freak out, get violent" first reaction humans generally respond with when faced with anything new - but hey...I'm thinking long term, BIG picture here!
veering left of reality is not an easy road to travel...
For as long as music has been crafted by men and women, they have interjected their messages into the lyrical lines. It makes sense. Artists create what they feel. They anchor their creation with what they know as truth. Artists create to communicate with the world...or their own little part of it.
One of my first revelations of music having a message was back in the 80's, while lying on the grass in front of the house with my headphones and my Walkman, staring up at the wonderful early-summer clouds - letting Ozzy howl "Killer of Giants" in my ears. Guess he hadn't changed much from his 'Sabbath days, as the message was still extremely anti-war/anti-nuke. Finally, I was aware enough to actually listen to the words being sung.
Holy crap! A peace-message in an Ozzy song???
I'm a little slow sometimes...
I've spent a lot of time since that first eye-opening epiphany listening - REALLY listening - to aural art for the meaning behind the music and rhythm and beat and meter - sniffing out the actual story being presented. When DVD's first started hitting the shelves, I delighted in trying to find the Easter eggs hidden within. Viewing artwork in all its forms took on new dimensions as I studied backgrounds and borders, looking for little details hidden within the larger, complete 'work.' It was a endearing game of hide-and-seek, and I enjoyed participating.
I've presented myriad versions of 'hide the message' in my own creativity, as well - with small details understated within the artwork, deliberately crafting a story line to be vague enough to allow the reader to draw their own conclusions, carefully framing of a shot to suggest something entirely different. I'm still running through a stint of abstract photography, and loving every click.
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This is one of my favorites - it's a shot of my living-room window in the depths of winter last year. The outer window was frosted over, so you couldn't see the building across the driveway with any detail.
And another of my favorite abstracts - taken at a concert last winter. Very Dante's 'Inferno"-esque.
Which reminds me....
...back to them war pigs...
I know why this particular song was rattling around in my brain...long enough and loud enough to make me go look up the actual words being sung. This song is shouted, sang, screamed or otherwise intoned by an audience of frustrated with the world, slightly crazed and intoxicated fans whenever the band GWAR is setting up to perform...and I just bought tickets for their Milwaukee show the end of November, at The Rave.
These guys are NOT Lawrence Welk or Hee-Haw...leave Grandma home...
GWAR plays to the heavy metal aficionados, usually the angry and disenfranchised under-30 crowd - the music is fast, loud, and the only intelligible lyrics are strings of four-letter words. GWAR actually goes BEYOND traditional metal by serving up the popular icons of the day - and dismembering them for the viewing audience while spraying the screaming fans with gallons of fake blood...all while wearing extreme monster costumes which celebrate all things dark, male and phallic.
Relax - they use props, not people!
My first show, GWAR took on God, Hitler and (as it was an election year) Romney vs. Obama. As I was in the general audience for this show - I was bathed in the (fake) blood of Christ and Obama - and I think Hitler got me a bit, too...
The second show - GWAR did some very strange things to (and with) sex-starved aliens, and denounced the commercialism of the music industry. Can you guess what else 'sprayed' during this show?
This will be the third year in a row I've braved the crowds of metal fans to witness GWAR in it's fury. This year, I opted for balcony seating. Hopefully, I'll stay dry.
I can't wait to see what they come up with.
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