Al, JJ (from Jigsaw), and I went to see Lucero tonight. They were every bit as heart-wrenchingly awesome as everyone assured me they would be. We also discovered a kindred lone-drinker spirit in JJ, which was cool.
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UPDATE: Hangover.
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FURTHER UPDATE: Running sucks.
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EVEN FURTHER UPDATE: Why is human nature so self-destructive? Take, for example, the Divine Comedy's Cassanova album. Named after and ostensibly inspired by the most famous lover of all time, the entire thing is about self-destruction, especially under the influence of the thoughts, emotions, and happenings that orbit love. Why is love, arguably the best thing in the whole goddamned universe and entered into with so many high hopes and good intentions, ultimately responsible for so much strife and misery, for so many people broken and torn limb from limb? Why, when it's the best fucking thing ever, does it seem bad so much more than it seems good? Even people in its deepest halcyon throes (trust me) can't deny, when they stop to think about it, that it's a fickle bitch that can drive the brightest of stars to crash and burn out.
Maybe the answer lies in the rest of human nature. Love, like thermonuclear fusion, is a powerful force at the disposal of an all-too-flawed agency. Putting it in the hands of something also subject to the rest of the vast and often wretched pantheon of emotions is like giving a hand grenade to a monkey. I guess that's part of its charm. It's beautiful like a sandcastle is beautiful: so much more so because it can be so fleeting and transitive. It's exhilarating like battle is exhilarating: so much more so because it hasn't killed you yet. It's glorious because it's so fundamentally human (just stick with me a little longer here; I know I'm starting to get carried away, but I'm almost done), carrying with it the beautiful and the awful, inextricably linked and needing to be reconciled if any peace is to be had.
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UPDATE: Hangover.
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FURTHER UPDATE: Running sucks.
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EVEN FURTHER UPDATE: Why is human nature so self-destructive? Take, for example, the Divine Comedy's Cassanova album. Named after and ostensibly inspired by the most famous lover of all time, the entire thing is about self-destruction, especially under the influence of the thoughts, emotions, and happenings that orbit love. Why is love, arguably the best thing in the whole goddamned universe and entered into with so many high hopes and good intentions, ultimately responsible for so much strife and misery, for so many people broken and torn limb from limb? Why, when it's the best fucking thing ever, does it seem bad so much more than it seems good? Even people in its deepest halcyon throes (trust me) can't deny, when they stop to think about it, that it's a fickle bitch that can drive the brightest of stars to crash and burn out.
Maybe the answer lies in the rest of human nature. Love, like thermonuclear fusion, is a powerful force at the disposal of an all-too-flawed agency. Putting it in the hands of something also subject to the rest of the vast and often wretched pantheon of emotions is like giving a hand grenade to a monkey. I guess that's part of its charm. It's beautiful like a sandcastle is beautiful: so much more so because it can be so fleeting and transitive. It's exhilarating like battle is exhilarating: so much more so because it hasn't killed you yet. It's glorious because it's so fundamentally human (just stick with me a little longer here; I know I'm starting to get carried away, but I'm almost done), carrying with it the beautiful and the awful, inextricably linked and needing to be reconciled if any peace is to be had.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
Re: "EVEN FURTHER UPDATE" - Seriously. I continue to be amazed by what people do in the name of "love." I used to think males and females were wired too differently to make any sort of sense with one another (except, of course, when they do)... now I think it has to do with a given individual's emotional intelligence/maturity.
Your whole "hand grenade/monkey" idea is pretty spot on, though.