Top ten lists always seem kind of dumb to me. I mean, who really cares what I listened to in high school? But then I woke up from a dream about my mom this morning and couldn't go back to sleep, so I started mentally composing a list to take my mind off of the sadness.
Most of the music that had the biggest impact on me during my high school years came from three main sources: my brother Gary, music videos on MTV, and random things I found at the record store with cool cover art. So, in somewhat chronological order with commentary, my dumb top ten list:
1. Rust in Peace, Megadeth.
Not my first metal/thrash album, but definitely my favourite.
Most of the music I listened to in my early teens came from my older brother Gary, who introduced me to bands like Anthrax, Metallica, Megadeth, and Slayer right before I started high school. Before that, I was apathetic as far as most music went. I liked Michael Jackson's Thriller as a kid, but pretty much ignored music after that. Nothing on the radio really interested me. And then I heard things like Rust in Peace and all that changed. I thought, What the shit is this?! Where has this been all my life? The heavier and faster, the better.
After being introduced to heavy metal, I moved from Detroit to Warren, MI, and started high school as the weird new kid. I was into comics and mythology and growing my hair out long in the middle of Michigan suburbia. Not the best fit. When days were rough, and people were especially mean to me, I'd come home and listen to music. And the album that stands out the most when I think about my first year of high school is this one.
Thematically, it also fostered my growing interest in politics, conspiracy theories, and the occult. Fortunately, my politics and spiritual beliefs evolved in the opposite direction of frontman Dave Mustaine.
2. Arise, Sepultura.
My brother had just gotten a new radio and some money for his 16th birthday. We went to my uncle's cottage in Lexington Heights, near Lake Huron, for a few weeks. We saw this tape in the case of a small local store, and Gary bought it solely because of the insane cover art. Not knowing what to expect, we were totally blown away. It was the heaviest thing I'd ever heard. We listened to it non-stop that summer. This, along with albums like Rust in Peace and Slayer's Seasons in the Abyss, formed the soundtrack for my first couple of years in high school.
3. Nevermind, Nirvana.
Nevermind came out just before I started high school. I was already wearing band shirts, torn jeans, Chucks, and flannels. People used to call me a scrub. Then this came out and I was 'grunge.' It was heavy and angsty and made for people like me.
Kurt Cobain was also the first idol of mine to die tragically. I remember hearing the news in school during the morning broadcast of Channel 1. It hit me pretty hard. But even though it was shocking and sad, his suicide also showed me that other people struggle with life too, which somehow made me feel less alone.
4. Psalm 69, Ministry.
My first real industrial album, soon followed by NIN's Downward Spiral and KMFDM's Xtort. More seeds for my future political awareness, and another musical outlet for all my pent up teenage angst. This album sparked my love of industrial music, which would later lead to a lot of great friendships.
5. In the Shadows, Mercyful Fate.
My first exposure to King Diamond was the video for "Egypt." I'd never heard nor seen anything quite like it. I was immediately drawn towards the overt mythological and occult overtones; but I was completely captivated by King Diamond himself. His voice. His makeup. His lyrics. The moment I saw that video, I knew I'd found my musical soulmate.
I was already familiar with the philosophy of Anton LeVey by then (I mean, what rebellious preteen could resist picking up The Satanic Bible at their local bookstore?), and King Diamond personified it to a T. His music and countercultural philosophy further stoked my rebelliousness against the conservative, Judeo-Christian culture that dominated Michigan suburbia, inspiring me to foster my individuality rather than supress it in order to conform with what was expected of me.
While I'd later more away from LeVey's philosophy, finding a better spiritual fit first in the likes of Aleister Crowley and later in Buddhism, it without a doubt helped me survive high school without losing myself or my mind.
6. Abigail, King Diamond.
My first King Diamond album. Also my first concept album.
I can't even begin to explain the impact this album had on me. It's more of a feeling and attitude than anything rational, but it definitely changed my life for the reasons mentioned above re: In the Shadows and much, much more. A horror story set to music, I'd often listen to it, along with Them and The Eye, at night. It was like the King himself was singing me nightmarish bedtime stories as I drifted off to sleep, transporting me into worlds where I could escape from the pressures of being an awkward teen who never quite fit in.
I was known throughout my high school years for my obsession with King Diamond.
7. Covenant, Morbid Angel.
One of the best death metal albums ever made, in my opinion. Also, my first concert. The first time I heard "Rapture" on Headbanger's Ball, I was young, rebellious, and fancied myself quite the little Satanist. It was the heaviest, most Satanic thing I'd ever heard, and I couldn't get enough of it. I listened to that tape religiously. When I heard they were playing at the Falcon Club in Hamtramck, MI, I knew I had to go.
It was the summer of 1994. I was all of 15 and crashing on my friend Mike's couch at the time after running away from home to get away from my increasingly out-of-control stepdad. I remember that we had to go to some record store or another to buy the tickets. My friend Larry was there too. We convinced somebody to give us a ride down there that night (maybe Jerry, or someone's mom?). I remember waiting outside and hearing them rehearse "Sworn to the Black." It gave me chills. I was so fucking excited I was practically twerking with anticipation.
The place was small and more like a basement than a venue. 7,000 Dying Rats and Crowbar opened. Then Morbid Angel came on and fucking destroyed my face with the heaviest riffs and most devilish lyrics my relatively innocent, young ears had until that time heard (this was before the interwebs, mind you). It was one hell of a show. I headbanged so hard I'm pretty sure I gave myself whiplash.
After the show, we tried to find a ride back, but ended up having to catch a taxi instead. Unfortunately, we could only afford to make it halfway back to Mike's place, walking the last five or six miles in the dead of night.
8. Transylvanian Hunger, Darkthrone.
My first black metal album. Bought it because of the cover artwork. It looked so badass I just had to hear it. I didn't like it at first, though, to be honest. Initially, I only listened to the first three tracks. The rest was just low-quality noise to me. But I kept coming back to it for some reason; and the more I listened to it, the more I began to appreciate the album as a whole, as well as the genre itself.
For me, music is first and foremost about the aesthetics, how it sounds, how it makes me feel, etc. I didn't understand a lot of the lyrics, and was completely unaware of the racism associated with the band at the time (statements Fenriz would later disavow and call disgusting); but the sound itself was so raw, dark, and honest that, aesthetically, it mirrored much of the anger and alienation I felt at the time. Listening to it was like letting the dark half of my soul run free through the coldest, darkest forests of my imagination.
9. Symphony Masses, Therion.
If memory serves me right, this was recommended to me at or around the same time I bought Transylvanian Hunger by someone working at Harmony House, who I sort of knew through mutual friends. I loved it. And through the evolution of the band's music, this album would eventually introduce me to symphonic metal and bands like Cradle of Filth and Dimmu Borgir.
10. Antichrist Superstar, Marilyn Manson.
By the time this came out, I was one of the three resident Satanists in school, had waist-length hair, wore mostly black, and filed my nails to a sharp point.
Being new and kind of weird, asshole, suburban kids liked to pick on me; and the more they did, the more I transformed myself into someone they didn't want to fuck with. I wanted to become Satan himself. This album came out during the culmination of that transformation. It gave an especially coherent, tortured voice to all the anger and frustration I felt towards the world; and it further motivated me to transcend the stifling limitations imposed by societal social norms by trangressing them more than I already was.
More than anything, though, it helped me break free from the psychological constraints of heteronormality. I didn't know much about the goth scene, but this album introduced me to that world, a world I immediately felt at home in, especially after finding a haven for misfits like myself in the form of Gotham Cafe, which would lead me to a whole new chapter of my life.
Friday, January 27, 2017
Saturday, January 21, 2017
women's march on washington
So many things on my mind seeing the hundreds of thousands of people taking to the streets today in solidarity with the Women's March on Washington.
Our country is a political dumpster fire. We've actually elected a reality show star for president. His cabinet is full of anti-gay, anti-poor, anti-women racists and corporatists. His first speech as president was written by racist-in-chief, Steve Bannon, and took a decidedly nationalistic and patriarchal tone (and even plagiarized Bane to boot). They don't even try to hide their contempt for non-WASPs, especially women, utilizing political slogans from the golden age of American nationalism and repression, and wasting no time in ridding the White House website of references to the LGBT rights, climate change, and civil rights. It's like I've died and woken up in the prequel to A Handmaid's Tale.
The protests are amazing. But protesting alone isn't going to fix the problem. Yes, it gives people hope, and it forces the ruling class to pay attention to the real anger, frustration, and suffering of all those who are discriminated against and marginalized. It shows their numbers and their solidarity, their willingness to shut everything down, to not be further victimized or ignored. But it also unintentionally harms a lot of working-class people, those who can't afford to take days off work to be out in the streets otherwise they'd be out on the streets.
Shutting down bridges and public transit gets the ruling class' attention, but it also prevents working-class parents from getting home to their children after a long workday. It sends a powerful message to the minority in power, but it can also alienate huge pockets of working people. The fight must also include educating people about the importance of resistance and the ways real people are being harmed, as well as long-term strategies for staying relevant and not burning out, utilizing political activism and community organizing as much as direct action.
And while intersectionality is super important to any movement geared towards equality, women have definitely been at the forefront of the fight to put out this particular dumpster fire. They're out there marching and organizing and making their voices heard, which is amazing. Women have been the motivating force of this resistance from day one, and they are inspiring solidarity amongst all walks of life with their fire and determination.
I'm not sure what's going to come out of the seeds of today, but I'm cautiously optimistic about the future. Not because of my faith in our political system, but my faith in ordinary, everyday people. And I'm proud to follow the lead of all the amazing women who are leading the way into a better tomorrow.
Our country is a political dumpster fire. We've actually elected a reality show star for president. His cabinet is full of anti-gay, anti-poor, anti-women racists and corporatists. His first speech as president was written by racist-in-chief, Steve Bannon, and took a decidedly nationalistic and patriarchal tone (and even plagiarized Bane to boot). They don't even try to hide their contempt for non-WASPs, especially women, utilizing political slogans from the golden age of American nationalism and repression, and wasting no time in ridding the White House website of references to the LGBT rights, climate change, and civil rights. It's like I've died and woken up in the prequel to A Handmaid's Tale.
The protests are amazing. But protesting alone isn't going to fix the problem. Yes, it gives people hope, and it forces the ruling class to pay attention to the real anger, frustration, and suffering of all those who are discriminated against and marginalized. It shows their numbers and their solidarity, their willingness to shut everything down, to not be further victimized or ignored. But it also unintentionally harms a lot of working-class people, those who can't afford to take days off work to be out in the streets otherwise they'd be out on the streets.
Shutting down bridges and public transit gets the ruling class' attention, but it also prevents working-class parents from getting home to their children after a long workday. It sends a powerful message to the minority in power, but it can also alienate huge pockets of working people. The fight must also include educating people about the importance of resistance and the ways real people are being harmed, as well as long-term strategies for staying relevant and not burning out, utilizing political activism and community organizing as much as direct action.
And while intersectionality is super important to any movement geared towards equality, women have definitely been at the forefront of the fight to put out this particular dumpster fire. They're out there marching and organizing and making their voices heard, which is amazing. Women have been the motivating force of this resistance from day one, and they are inspiring solidarity amongst all walks of life with their fire and determination.
I'm not sure what's going to come out of the seeds of today, but I'm cautiously optimistic about the future. Not because of my faith in our political system, but my faith in ordinary, everyday people. And I'm proud to follow the lead of all the amazing women who are leading the way into a better tomorrow.
christian communism
I'm currently reading Gareth Stedman Jones' book, Karl Marx: Greatness and Illusion, and one section has me wondering why more Christians, and Catholics in particular, aren't communists in the proper sense of the word and vice versa. That's not to say I think one must (or even necessarily should) be the other; only that I find them to be immensely compatible on a fundamental level.
For example, in contrast to Feuerbach's criticism of Christianity as a philosophical roadblock to the emergence of a modern, communal society characterized by spiritual and political freedom -- the 'unity of I and Thou' -- the universality of 'the church as one body' (via 1 Cor 12:12-13) most certainly contains within it the communal essence of the human species as Feuerbach envisions it.
Our tendency towards abstraction aside, rather than simply seeing the state of religion as "the particular union of each individual with an external being," as Stedman Jones summarizes Feuerbach's critique of Christianity (p. 127), this theological concept explicitly conceives of each individual as an integral part of the same communal, unifying body within the universality that is personified by Christ. Moreover, Christ himself makes concern for the needs of others the entry fee into the kingdom of heaven (Mt 25:31-46).
So, rather than usurping the primordial species-unity of 'I and Thou,' as Feuerbach suggests, Christ actually embodies that unity. All are one in Christ, and Christ is one with all (Gal 3:28). Next to loving God, loving our neighbour as ourselves is the greatest commandment (Mt 22:34-40). And the relational nature of God in the form of the trinity itself reflects the interdependent nature of humanity, the aspect of individuals as communal species-beings.
While this revolutionary facet of Christianity has been suppressed by ruling elites, both spiritual and political, throughout most of its history, its existence is clearly evinced by the early apostles themselves: "There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need" (Acts 4:34-35).
In addition, for Marx and Feuerbach, God is a mystification of our species-essence, an abstraction, an inversion of subject and object; and therefore our religious inclinations are in reality just a fetishization of this alienated aspect of our species-being that we've objectified and turned into something alien from ourselves. But the revolutionary story of Jesus effectively undoes this inversion of subject and object.
Jesus is God manifest in human form; and in this sense, represents a demystification of our species-essence and a reunification of our spiritual and political consciousness. Jesus not only bridges the gap between the transcendent and the concrete, but the rift between humanity and itself created by our tendency to, in the words of Feuerbach, "posit the essence of nature outside nature, the essence of humanity outside humanity, the essence of thought outside the act of thinking."
I think that both Feuerbach and Marx were correct in their criticism of idealist philosophies that begin with "the 'I' or 'self' in isolation," as well as of the role that Christianity played in the rise of individualism and egotistical withdrawal from communal life within modern society. But I think they make a mistake by neglecting the revolutionary spirit imbedded within the New Testament.
For example, in contrast to Feuerbach's criticism of Christianity as a philosophical roadblock to the emergence of a modern, communal society characterized by spiritual and political freedom -- the 'unity of I and Thou' -- the universality of 'the church as one body' (via 1 Cor 12:12-13) most certainly contains within it the communal essence of the human species as Feuerbach envisions it.
Our tendency towards abstraction aside, rather than simply seeing the state of religion as "the particular union of each individual with an external being," as Stedman Jones summarizes Feuerbach's critique of Christianity (p. 127), this theological concept explicitly conceives of each individual as an integral part of the same communal, unifying body within the universality that is personified by Christ. Moreover, Christ himself makes concern for the needs of others the entry fee into the kingdom of heaven (Mt 25:31-46).
So, rather than usurping the primordial species-unity of 'I and Thou,' as Feuerbach suggests, Christ actually embodies that unity. All are one in Christ, and Christ is one with all (Gal 3:28). Next to loving God, loving our neighbour as ourselves is the greatest commandment (Mt 22:34-40). And the relational nature of God in the form of the trinity itself reflects the interdependent nature of humanity, the aspect of individuals as communal species-beings.
While this revolutionary facet of Christianity has been suppressed by ruling elites, both spiritual and political, throughout most of its history, its existence is clearly evinced by the early apostles themselves: "There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need" (Acts 4:34-35).
In addition, for Marx and Feuerbach, God is a mystification of our species-essence, an abstraction, an inversion of subject and object; and therefore our religious inclinations are in reality just a fetishization of this alienated aspect of our species-being that we've objectified and turned into something alien from ourselves. But the revolutionary story of Jesus effectively undoes this inversion of subject and object.
Jesus is God manifest in human form; and in this sense, represents a demystification of our species-essence and a reunification of our spiritual and political consciousness. Jesus not only bridges the gap between the transcendent and the concrete, but the rift between humanity and itself created by our tendency to, in the words of Feuerbach, "posit the essence of nature outside nature, the essence of humanity outside humanity, the essence of thought outside the act of thinking."
I think that both Feuerbach and Marx were correct in their criticism of idealist philosophies that begin with "the 'I' or 'self' in isolation," as well as of the role that Christianity played in the rise of individualism and egotistical withdrawal from communal life within modern society. But I think they make a mistake by neglecting the revolutionary spirit imbedded within the New Testament.
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