You’re the wonder in everything that’s wonderful: Reflections on Scott Weiland’s death

I heard someone once say that you’re favorite style of music for the rest of your life is what was being played while you were in high school.  That may prove doubly true for me, since I didn’t even start listening to modern music until high school.  The 80s for me were wrapped up in Oldies (from my dad) and CCM (from my mom).  Nirvana was as much as revolution for me as I ever really experienced, and within a couple of years, I was not only listening to grunge and post-grunge nearly exclusively, but also playing guitar and trying to grow a Kurt Cobain haircut.

And that was after he died, by the way.  I got into modern rock in 1994, and by my graduation in 1996, I had amassed a ton of 90s music.

One of the main bands in that collection was Stone Temple Pilots.  Grunge wasn’t always known for good musicianship, but STP was a notable exception.  Rob DeLeo is my primary influence as a bass player, and I gain an appreciation for Dean’s guitars as I was learning the instrument.  He hides a lot of cool stuff behind his distortion, and you may not notice if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

These guys were a constant soundtrack for me in those days, and I get strong sense-memories every time I listen to one of those old albums.  I recall video games I was playing at the time, areas of town where I delivered pizzas, my high school, my loneliness, my speech tournaments, and on and on it goes.

Hearing of STP frontman Scott Weiland’s death this morning struck up the same memories.  I put on Shangri-La Dee Da, which I actually didn’t hear until less than ten years ago, but had become probably my favorite of theirs.

The Free Speech Apocalypse (2015)

[As a note, I was able to see this movie early by being an All-Access Member of Apologia Radio. I highly recommend this ministry, and have learned much because of it.  Thanks!]

My high school government teacher told us that the definition of a Conservative was someone who wanted to go back to the old ways of doing things, including slavery.  He emphasized that – conservatives like slavery.  I thought it was odd even then that, in conservative Texas, no one in class seemed to really think that was an odd definition.  Or maybe we were just all afraid of the grade so kept our mouths shut.  Little did I know that this was just the way things were going to be from now on.

But did anyone really expect what is happening now?  I mean, sure, there has always been an effort by people to shut down discussion by calling other people names.  I’m talking about the people who take any criticism of Obama as “racism,” or those who talk about a “war on women” when we want to end the murder of babies.  These people have always been around, and they are so blinded by their own rhetoric that it’s nearly impossible to have a conversation with them.

But they’ve always been the kooks, the fringe, the blind followers.  These are the people who make the news out of their incredible silliness, not because they have a point.  But when people near me – friends, neighbors, coworkers, etc. – start repeating the same nonsense, it starts to concern me.  When I see people at work who really thought that voting against Obama meant that Big Bird would go off the air, I start to really wonder about where we’re going as a people. 

Mercy Rule (2014)

I’ve been pretty excited to watch Darren Doane’s Free Speech Apocalypse for a few months now, especially after noting that he directed Collision, which is my favorite C

hristian movie that I haven’t actually seen.  Not that I don’t want to.  And I’ve seen enough clips to make me feel like I actually have seen it.  Even though I haven’t.  And I really like it.  Despite having not seen it.

Nevertheless, to tide me over, I looked up a few of his other works to tide me over.  Unstoppable was good – seen that one.  Saving Christmas?  Er, word around the block (and I mean by that people who would actually appreciate the theology of this movie – not the general assessment of the world) is that it was pretty bad.  Mercy Rule?  Haven’t heard of that one, but why not?  Let’s give it a try.

What was interesting about it is that it wasn’t what we would call a “Christian” film.  It is a self-described “family” film, but we would not immediately say it is “Christian” except that Doane directed and Kirk Cameron stars in it.

Does that mean it’s not Christian?  Well, the whole point of this blog is to point out that just because we label something as “Christian” doesn’t mean that it is good theology, or even really that it is at all Christian.  At the same time, here we have a film that stands thoroughly on a Christian worldview as its foundation.  It is about things – truth, honestly, community, family, righteousness, a good work ethic – that God loves.  The antagonists in this movie are not only the bad guys trying to take what isn’t theirs.  It’s also the pride of life and the desire for wealth or recognition that is part of the main characters themselves. 

Children of Men (2006)

Thou turnest man to destruction; and sayest, Return, ye children of men.

-Psalm 90:3, KJV

The most astonishing things about the recent Planned Parenthood videos are not the videos themselves.  We always knew they were killing people, so it shouldn’t be a surprise when we find out that they are selling the bodies of the people they slaughter.  No, that revelation is interesting to watch, but it shouldn’t surprise it.

Make us ashamed, angry, and sick to the stomach?  Yes.  Surprised?  No.

But the surprising part is watching people defend it.  We’ve had defenders of death for some time, of course.  We’ve had the same arguments for decades now, and some people seem really sincere in presenting them.  The only thing that has really changed is the level of self-denial inherent in these arguments as medical science continues to make it more and more obvious that which the Bible taught us from the beginning – that a fetus (Latin for “baby”) is a living human.  And the Bible goes further still with the statement that not only is the baby a living human, but is also made in the image of God, and therefore worthy of dignity and respect.

The arguments become more desperate as that fact is becoming more obvious.  For many of us, who genuinely thought that the world would come around once it was proven that the baby is alive, it is a bit of a shock when we watch people still cling to death because they love it.

We love death.

Wonder and art

[This is a post in an ongoing series on what is art and how we should be approaching it.  Please use the label at the bottom to see other posts in this series or continue to monitor this blog for updates.]

I’ve heard Ravi Zacharias tell a story (and you must forgive me, but for the life of me I cannot find that tale again, otherwise I would cite it properly) about how our sense of wonder and amazement diminishes over time.  In this story, he tells of his children, and how he would tell the story to his eldest about a room with a door, and the character opens the door, and outside is a dragon – and the eldest child’s eyes go wide.

To the middle child he tells the story, and there’s a room with a door, and the character opens the door – and the child’s eyes go wide.

 

To the youngest he tells of a room with a door – and the child’s eyes go wide.

And while it was not Ravi’s application of this story at all, the more I have mused upon it, the more I am convinced that the people who need to be telling stories of the wonders of dragons are the ones who were excited in the first place about the door.

My triumphant return

So over the last many months, I have been training for a new job (my own business) and opening that same business, so things have been a wee bit hectic.  But as things settle down, and I want to get back to writing a bit, and so I’m hoping to get the ol’ blog back running again.

And as I’m coming back, there are actually quite a few things I want to say.  I have a lot to say about some bad “Christian” “art,” of course, but I also want to add something else.  I want to talk about what Christian art should be.

I’m doing a bit of research for an upcoming book on art, and while I’m considering these ideas, I’d like to use this blog for my notes on what I’m reading and learning.  So in addition to my normal format, I’d like to further the conversation on what we should be doing with the various forms of art.

We’ll do this under a category heading of “What art should be” for easy reference.  Please feel free to send in ideas on the topic!

On seeing B.B. King live

When I was in college, I went to the Arena Theatre in Houston for an experience that I will undoubtedly treasure my whole life.  I got to see several of my favorite bands in the 90s, but I’m typically very behind trends in music, so I get into acts long after they stop touring.  I started listening to Stevie Ray Vaughan in the 90s, Classic Rock later than that.  So I haven’t gotten to see very many really great acts in my lifetime.

But on that occasion, I saw the best concert I’ve ever seen.  B.B. King, then probably in his late 70s, took the stage in a truly wonderful show.  Bobby Blue Bland rocked as the opening act.  There was no light show, no smoke, no lasers, no fire.  It was just good music played by two very good bands.

B.B. himself only stood for a few songs, then took a stool for the rest of the show.  Didn’t matter.  He was amazing.  He captivated that room.  He demanded your attention, but not with harshness, but with a kindness that a grandpa holds the attention of the grandkids.  We wanted to hear his stories, and he told them well.  He was approachable and funny, kind and inviting.

There have been remarkably few entertainers like him, and I feel very blessed to have experienced that in person.  I will miss him, not because I ever expected to see his show again, but because the one time I did see him, he made it personal and full of awe.

Most of my favorite bands I want to see “again.”  I’ve seen U2 twice, and I’d like to see them again, for example.  But the satisfaction I got from that night watching the king lingers with me still, and like a man newly full from a heavy meal, I am content, I am happy, and while I am a little melancholy that it is over, I do not need any more.  I’m just glad to have had that sort of meal in the first place.

Thanks, Mr. King.  Rest in peace.