"Hallelujah" course

I first heard the song “Hallelujah” at a party. I don’t remember the occasion but seeing as it was college, alcohol was involved surely. It was a small gathering, friends of friends much more keen to music and artistic pursuits, I felt a little awkward. The cd (compact disc for you millennials) on repeat was Jeff Buckley’s Grace. His piercing vocals on “Hallelujah” were impossible to ignore and I relished hearing it over and over.

I found out later that the song was written by someone else. Covered by another someone else, who made it cool for other someones' to cover. This I had to research a bit. If not to find the true author of the song, at least to pull back the layers of this popular work and maybe discover some meaning. Not for the sake of the lyrics but to figure out how this became the “it” song.

 It was re-imagined in the early nineties by John Cale whose version is usually the one that everyone covers. It’s the most modern version, sad and bittersweet. Leonard Cohen wrote the song and put it on his album Various Positions in 1984. It must not have made much of a splash because no one seemed to notice it until Cale put a different spin on in the early nineties. He added a silky smooth piano sound and  upped the sentimentality.  Buckley’s version is closest to Cale in attitude and texture and a more obvious reference to a broken relationship.

Love is not a victory march, it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Buckley has the superior voice and his chords extend the song beyond the Cohen’s deep bass limits.

Somewhere along the way the song started popping up in television shows and movies. Mostly during sad moments deaths and funerals. I won’t spoil the episode but West Wing used it perfectly in a last-show-of-the-season gut punch. Shrek used the John Cale version and suddenly everyone wanted to use some version of “Hallelujah” or write their own.Talent contests like American Idol and Voice continue to see young vocalists performing some version.

 Leonard Cohen is used to praise about his poetic gifts but even he must be pinching himself over the extra life of this song. It was a forgotten B side on an unremarkable record before the explosion of remakes and covers.

 I watched a video recently of a live performance of the song that won’t quit. Cohen had a backup vocals singing along the gospel style to the chorus, the way Baptists do in church with ‘aleluuuuujahs’ heavy on the ‘uuu’. If this version with the choir is the way he recorded it I can see why it wasn’t a hit. It just doesn’t work as a church song despite the references to David playing for the Lord. Cohen’s scratchy voice is not melodic enough for the bouncy gospel track.

 It sounds like a worship leader in practice before his morning coffee.

I know I know, he wrote the song and he intended it to be a somber look at…something. I’ve never been good with meaning in poems or music lyrics. Every version of the song begins with King David, his gift for song and his affair.

You saw her bathing on the roof. Her beauty in the Moonlight overthrew ya

 Or maybe Samson with Delilah.

She tied you to your kitchen chair, she broke your crown she cut your hair

Some critics think some of the versions (especially Buckley’s) have a sexual quality, an exciting high followed by a deep low. Poisonous affairs might have been on Cohen’s mind when he wrote his version but likely he had a chord progression in mind and set it to themes borrowed heavily from the Old Testament.

…it goes like this, the fourth the fifth, the minor fall the major lift

The Cale version switches out some of Cohen’s lyrics and puts in references to a relationship gone south.

There was a time you let me know

 what’s really going on below.

But now you never show it to me do you?

I looked for an interview with Mr. Cohen just to get a sense of the writing and word choice. I found a few quotes about the differences between the religious Hallelujah and the secular one but no real descriptions. Nothing jumps out except that it took him a long time to write it, 5 years according to one source.

Poetic verse continues to escape me.

So the short version goes like this: Leonard Cohen writes and records the infamous composition in 1984 but with little fanfare. John Cale re-imagines it by changing the lyrics slightly but keeping the ever important climbing, climbing, and falling chord pattern. Every two bit singer songwriter up and coming vocalist covers some form because it is quite a beautiful song, in sound and emotion more than in meaning.

If I could go back to that party where I first heard the recording from Buckley I would beg them to stop playing it. All great works of art get copied, music is no different. I love the song but I’ve heard my share. When the covers stop and recordings of that infamous song stop getting made, I’ll simply say “Hallelujah”!

Buckley Version

  

Hillbilly Elegy: A Review

J.D. Vance is no stranger to writing. As a regular contributor to the National Review he covers political and legal issues all the time. Personal stories are a tougher task though. For someone to explore their own memories like a cave diver looking for treasure is too much in most cases. Especially with Vance who had a nearly impossible childhood to escape from. By escape I don’t mean run away with a bag and a greyhound ticket hoping to disappear for a few years. I mean to elevate above nasty situations, addictive behaviors, negative mindsets, and statistical disadvantages.

I won’t retell the story here because it isn’t mine to share and because the author does it so beautifully. I’m a sucker for a happy ending and although J.D. is younger than me (a few years) his short life to this point is already much improved. Writing a story about one’s past takes courage because lies won’t work. The passion has to be real and the punches must land.

 The result is a genuine American story from a writer who lets us look into his past and forces us to understand hillbilly culture through his experiences.

At the heart of this book is the story of a fighter who keeps getting up when life hits him again and again. There isn’t a bell and a belt at the end of it; it keeps going because life doesn’t care if you need to catch a breath. Sadly too many kids like J.D. live transient lives where mom’s boyfriends’ come and go and the fighting between drunken adults gets interrupted by police sirens and knocks at the door. Many have called 911 after a sibling overdosed on drugs or were left to find food when a parent disappeared for days.

This book has two parts. The first explains the authors’ hillbilly culture in America and the history of migration from the first Scots-Irish in Appalachia before the Civil War. It’s a very brief history though and serves as a marker more than anything, a place in time to hang this tale. The second is a where-do-we-go-from-here exploration of struggling families and some of the myths surrounding the ‘help’ that governments offer.

Many of the programs offered to rural folks, like food stamps, keep shady characters from finding work. Hillbillies have clever ways of getting around work and responsibility. Most of us know that government programs like food stamps and housing credits contribute more to keeping struggling folks in poverty than helping to escape, maybe not everyone does know.

Still, this author doesn’t have an ax to grind toward family or government. If anything this story is refreshing for its honesty toward difficult circumstances and encouraging for its optimism. Despite the trials and harsh conditions shinning lights emerge from the clouds of his life, if only briefly. One doesn’t sense any animus from the author, only gratitude. Gratitude for his grandmother and older sister who protect him from an abusive and out of control mother struggling to beat addiction. His shotgun carrying foul-mouthed “Mamaw” is one such light he is eternally grateful for. Her influence takes on an outsized role in his life, something he freely admits now.  

The most important part of the story is the contrast between attitudes of working poor and attitudes of wealthy about money. This isn’t a financial self-help or a Dave Ramsey type strategy for getting out of debt. It is a guidebook of poverty. Poverty is the difference. Poverty drives the story like a rented sedan careening recklessly down the road without a care and without a map. Poverty explains why many addictive behaviors and poor relationships affect generations trying to escape it. Poverty makes us think and act differently than middle class people.

I don’t think J.D. uses the term poverty but it fits like a worn out t-shirt. He gives it away when talking about his girlfriend’s family and the outlook they have on life. He is surprised to find out they don’t throw dishes and cuss at each other when upset. They plan for expenses and education by saving and working toward goals. His Marine drill instructors make sure he gets a decent loan at the bank for a car and make sure he pays his bills.  

His thinking changes and the book feels like an attempt to let everyone know that they can too. Don’t let the title fool you. It is only sad when realizing the plight of hillbillies across America is a recurring problem. No easy fix exists and only God can save a damaged soul, not to mention a damaged community. I was happy to see the author’s renewed interest in Christianity after leaving the confused hackneyed version of his youth. He explains in detail in the book. I won’t spoil too many anecdotes but this one is worth a read. At just over 200 pages it is a breeze.

Research Papers: now and then

Remember doing research papers for History or term papers for English in high school? The library trips to find book sources and academic articles. The late nights and early mornings finishing up tiny edits and awkward phrasing. OK so the work was awful and full of plagiarized content, the quotes didn’t fit the main point and you created sources out of thin air. good times…

Most of those papers needed a minimum of quotes per page or some other similar requirement--bad idea for kids who only do the minimum.

The problem this creates goes something like this: toss together a collage of words, shoehorn a quote from Abe Lincoln somewhere in the middle and presto! Clean up the bibliography page but don’t worry too much about the format, like the teacher is actually going to check the sources. Turn in the painstakingly edited final draft (don’t laugh).

I don’t have a much better idea for research, but how about this? Give them something random to read and force them to take notes for doing an essay later. Ensure that they can’t find a Sparknotes copy by selecting a narrowly focused topic. Something like ‘crop rotation techniques of Filipino farmers’ or ‘federal regulations of home water softeners’.

This is something colleges get that high schools don’t. Want to really find out if kids can  summarize an idea? Make them write about it.

ACT, SAT and most standardized tests have some form of read and quiz portion because it goes straight to retention. Term papers are more about formatting and researching. Go ahead and argue for space time travel as a legitimate source of federal funding, we really only care that you know how to look up the details and notate them.

I wonder how important it will be in 10 years, researching in the way people do now. In a my lifetime, which isn’t that long, library research for students has come from physical card catalogs to internal databases to external databases like Wilson select plus and LexisNexis. Google has a massive academic search engine for scholarly articles eliminating (almost) the need for separate systems.

The library in just a few short years has become a museum for how we used to do research--also a place for homeless patrons to wash up and change clothes. So you know…not for nothing.

I am little sad about the loss. Insight gained through trial and error shouldn’t disappear so quickly. It took years to get comfortable finding books, scanning chapters, making note cards, changing topics and starting over. It was meaningful work, not exactly digging wells in the Sahara but it set me apart. There aren’t too many ways to stand out in college and be recognized as being better than others at regular academic pursuits.

It wasn’t genius it was skill, the kind you earn.

I’m an optimist on education and the democratizing it has undergone. The internet has leveled the field by removing a lot of the barriers to education, money, time and licensing requirements. I really mean education as the ‘practice of learning stuff’ and not the institutions we spent years in as kids. Even with the massive academic data available at a click, compiling an original paper is fundamentally the same.

So what does the term paper for high school kids look like in 30 years? Since research has changed so much I can’t see teachers asking for a bibliography page with multiple book sources. They should probably need to insert quotes correctly and know how to hyperlink, but the essence of research is in finding the thing, searching for the holy grail of supporting material. I suppose this is still feasible in the same way. The time it takes to put together a good essay with a coherent point is probably about the same as always.

As long as it takes the teacher to remind you that it’s due tomorrow.

Solomon's Temple: what might have been

I tried to imagine a scenario where King Solomon would conclude “The end of thing is better than its beginning…”. he said that in Ecclesiastes 7:8. He does that a lot in Proverbs too, he leaves us wondering, what made him say that?

 I can’t prove it but I’ll bet he was remembering projects that start with such hope and promise and flitter away. He built the famous temple in Jerusalem after all, the one that the Babylonians destroyed about 400 years later. He was a builder. A builder understands the deadline changes and bureaucratic messiness of seeing a project all the way through.  But bureaucracy, like flesh eating bacteria has evolved.

Imagine the wise king navigating through modern bureaucratic hurdles before actually designing. A council of elders would insist union contractors laid the stones and that all  masons be certified, same with the iron workers. Anyone with a skilled craft (carvers, chiselers) might hold up work and demand higher wages. Where would he find another stone engraver? Investors might pull out of the project if the Environmental Impact Reports (EIR) weren’t complete or up to date.

Imagine if an endangered beetle were spotted during the digging phase and work needed to stop, proper areas roped off undisturbed. The project grinding to a halt until an expert from the wildlife preservation fund (WPF) could write a report, verify migration patterns and sign off.

How might he react if the law firm representing displaced Canaanites had threatened to sue him? Not to win money for the tribe but to share in all revenue traders would make from traveling pilgrims. The temple might have cut Baal worshipers off from a convenient place to sacrifice infants. Other groups (Philistines, Edomites) might join the lawsuit in an ‘undue hardship for religious accommodation’ brief.

Could he have gotten the permits to build from the local authorities without hiring one of their relatives to "supervise" the project? 

He would certainly have wished for the ‘end of the thing.’

With a project of such scale and time, a large number of mathematicians would be needed. Could they get the proper work visas?

What about insurance? Laborers would have needed it from falling stones not laid securely in the wall or a plank of cedar threatening to crush an unsuspecting victim. Permits would not be issued until everyone associated with the temple was licensed. 

I am sure he’d of prayed “Dear Lord bring the end of this thing!” every night before slept exhausted, head pounding.

If the gold melted and laid down over the floor didn’t meet specifications what could Solomon have done? If the Bureau of Precious Metals (BPM) found the gold to be of a lower quality they would have shut down work until a replacement could be found, same for the wood. Cedar and Cyprus were both used for different parts of the structure. A non-fire retardant plank could have finished off the project until the carpenters could find an approved glaze for the wood.

A project this big and expensive would need security to keep raiders out. The guards better meet National Council on Security and Protection Professionals (NCSPP) regulations. If they don’t, well you know…

I started to realize that this morass of official channels and red tape was a real thing about the time One World Trade Center in New York opened its doors. The project was approved in the spring of 2006; they opened to the public in 2014. No modern building takes that long to assemble. My guess is rent-seeking groups hobbled the effort and slowed down a straightforward A to B job with roadblocks. Solomon was fortunate here. 

The end of a thing is better than the beginning, Indeed.

David Childs (his firm designed the Burj Khalifa) is the architect who designed the angular structure for the changing New York skyline. I hope he learned how to navigate the jumble of regulations and unnecessary delays.

Wonder if he reads Ecclesiastes?   

New Year New Content

As First Principles I've tried to cover an array of topics or whatever seemed interesting to me at the time. Occasionally though I run out of content and struggle to fill the pages. 

 A few problems I’ve noticed about what I write, or rather don’t write. Experienced bloggers can dive into anything and throw up some random thoughts or emotions about an event in news. Something that makes its way around Twitter and Facebook wall posts, celebrity deaths, political shenanigans or major weather alerts. I have trouble with this mostly because I can’t imagine contributing to the conversation or bringing some new aspect to light. 

No, I don't have anything brilliant to say that hasn't been thought, or written.

This is something I need to overcome because what is blogging if not constant updating and typing minutia. Or maybe what I do is fine.

Good enough…just enough.

I hope that isn’t laziness being passed off as wit. I am big believer that you write out of trouble and no amount of writing is ever too much. Maybe just don’t publish or paste everything. We have delete and backspace buttons to clean up the run on sentences and poorly worded phrases. Write all day. Write all night. Write until your fingers cramp and the pain makes you howl like retriever with a smashed tail. Just, you know, edit. I am trying to encourage myself here and not throw blame to writers. Working for ____  makes me a paid writer so technically the ‘community’ includes me. 

Yeah! Paid writer fist bump! pushes away from computer, punches the air

Ok so I only earn a couple bucks for digging into technical articles and spinning out sales-y content.

So where do I go from here in my search for blog material that works for me? Maybe that’s the problem, I try to fit content into such a tiny box instead of just banging on about newsworthy items. When you devote more time and energy to something it improves. Surely blogs work the same way.

I do wonder about process. How do others do it? Do they scan the major wire services and entertainment gossip for material? With journalists it is easy. They cover news so their content is pretty secure…because well, news is always happening. What about the mommy blogs and special interest stuff? It would seem difficult to come up with constant interesting posts to engage readers. This is surely the greatest misconception about writing/blogging I’ve had to get over.

 “Don’t write to an audience, just write and let the audience come to you.” At least that’s the story I am sticking to. I don’t like 100% of any one writer’s stuff, even the ones with sharp analysis and amazing turns of phrases. Take the good, take the bad. Share what is interesting and keep grinding away like an elderly couple scratching off lottery tickets.

Encourage, uplift and motivate when no one else will and be happy with the result.

To a great New Year full of promise and improvement, Cheers!!

What is Your Hobby?

What are hobbies and do they actually help us relieve stress from everyday work and relationships?

In thinking about hobbies I started where most might, Wikipedia. Usually Wikipedia has a history page and column that breaks down by various subheadings like ‘word origin’ or ‘controversy’. With ‘hobbies’ it merely gives a dictionary definition followed by an outline of things considered hobbies under types like ‘outdoor’ or ‘collecting’. Everyone has an idea of what is a hobby and what isn’t. I never considered sports or fitness to be a hobby but the list includes volleyball, weightlifting, cycling and many other competitive sports. Ok, so I can say anything outside of work that contributes to joy, relaxation, mental acuity or skill is a hobby.

Everyone needs a release that takes them outside the day to day existence and allows the mind to change direction by focusing on something other than work or relationships. We hear phrases like “the need to recharge” to explain why everyone needs an activity or skill outside of their career madness. Nothing is worse than losing sleep over a difficult day at work or thinking hard about a problem related solely to a career move. Stress from work and family is part of life but having an avenue for release is important for managing it.  This is supported by research but most of us don’t need to understand the research to understand what is obvious to most, hobbies renew our minds.

I’ve always tried to have some activity or pursuit removing me from my daily routines. There was an 18-hole golf course at my Army barracks in Louisiana where soldiers and visitors played almost year round. The weather was warm (humid) most of year so a course that stayed open for 12 months was normal. I didn’t play the course too many times but I loved going to the driving range and smacking balls down the long yard toward the parking lot. Gripping a club and bashing a tiny white ball was strangely therapeutic even though I never spent more than 30 minutes at it. I am sure if I looked into the how’s and why’s of golf it would make sense scientifically—something about endorphins maybe. It wouldn’t matter.  I like knowing that it worked for me and nothing else could at that time.

I looked at a couple of blog posts to get a sense of how others (non-academics) think about hobbies. Typically, almost everyone agrees that some form of hobby or learned skill is therapeutic. My favorite entry was one that explained  how through hobby individuals discover quirks and preferences about themselves. Most introspection helps us understand how our mind processes events and works through problems. Writing helps me untangle philosophical knots and complex problems by examining them closer. By taking apart the separate bits that make up problems and spreading them out like puzzle pieces (metaphorically), I get answers to what seemed impossible hours ago. I am not really sure how it happens but for me, writing just works.

Some find peace in solitude while others get joy from interaction. 

Finding a creative outlet through a hobby brings self-awareness and creativity to anyone willing to engage. Who knows, it may even lead to a different career or a new way to earn money. I have a few friends who have transitioned into rewarding jobs because of their skill with music, or their detail with photography. The internet has opened up countless possibilities for craft workers to sell handmade goods all over the world.  

Find a skill or an activity that brings out talents and use it to pursue joy and a refreshing break from normal stressors of life. I know I will.

A life cut short

Depression is a hell of a thing.

It isn’t a subject anyone likes to talk about or even think about but every once in a while someone we know (knew) does the unthinkable. I’ve known a few people who have taken their lives and although I don’t pretend to know the reasons or the situations surrounding the decision, it makes me heart-sick. The most recent example is of a kid who grew up across the street from me in my community college years. He was junior high aged (13-14) when I first met him and although we didn’t have a lot in common we played basketball together and talked about sports, girls and movies.

Our relationship was difficult to explain given our age differences. I did a post high school stint in community college that ultimately forced me to join the Army. I wasn’t ready for college. I had zero discipline for school work and the will to get better just wasn’t there. In the year and a half I lived with my dad right across the street from him. I could look out my window most days and find him shooting hoops in his driveway, committed to improving his game. He was a solid athlete. I like to think I showed him a few things on the court but really he was better than me at the same age. I was a decent competitor and allowed him to sharpen his quickness by playing someone bigger and stronger.

 I needed someone to look up to me as much as he needed a coach.

I joined the Army shortly after he started high school and at most would wave to him on a visit back home. I don’t remember talking to him much after I moved out. My dad eventually sold that house and moved north of there, different part of town. When I finally did get out I moved in with my dad at his new house while applying for school and working odd jobs. I never saw the kid with the quick dribble again but would occasionally bump into a classmate of his or someone else from the neighborhood. He seemed to be popular with the girls by all accounts. This never surprised me. He was a good looking kid and very athletic.

What emotions lead a person to do such a terrible thing and force the rest of us with an empty longing? I haven’t seen the kid in 20 years and I’m sadder than I imagined. Such promise, such a waste. How awful must those close to him be feeling? Obviously the happy kid with the big hoop dreams turned into someone darker than I ever knew somewhere in that 20 year time frame. It happens every day. People let their minds convince them of the futility of getting help or that hope is not a real thing, something for other more deserving people. I am not sure how depression works per se. Is all depression clinical or is it only clinical in suicidal people? Are suicidal people always losing a war on depression or do they have good weeks, days?

I recently heard suicide described as jumping out of a burning high rise building.  Hitting the ground, apparently, is much better than suffering the smoke and flames of the moment. Depressed people see suicide as an escape from the disease slowly eating their mind. Jumping from a high rise building may ensure a violent end but staying is torturous. This was the situation during the attack of 9/11 from the workers in the World Trade Center. Deciding to leave the flames and smoke certain to suffocate them, they leapt out the window and fell to their death. It is a grisly consideration but one that at least goes a little way toward describing suicidal tendencies.

As a Christian I am doubly saddened by any news that a person has lost an ongoing battle with the enemy. Evil is always looking for an entry point to deceive and betray. The entry point for too many of us is our thoughts. I don’t mean to insinuate depression is something that can be overcome through positive thinking only. In the same way that many of us struggle to lose weight or quit smoking, others battle horrible thoughts and torturous emotional darkness. Some aren’t prepared for the onslaught. Medicine can go a long way toward helping an individual cope and maintain normality. Only God can move the clouds away and cause light to drive away the darkness, and the pain that comes with losing a precious life.  

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts in your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7 (ESV)