Last Dance in St. Louis: of demise and the passing of all things
Every time I do the St. Louis - New York - Singapore route, I feel exceptionally emotional.
It's almost like a triggered response, or a classically conditioned response. My life is segmented into different unrelated sections and that's something that I try to deal with.
I still remember that year that my sis went to Deutschland (aka Germany) for IA (and of course to practise her German skills) and she called back and cried because of the loneliness there. You know what? We humans are so conditioned to live in our comfort zones. We want to be surrounded by familiarity, but yet we yearn to break loose and explore the other side of the pasture. I remember that one of the most impt mice breeding techniques in the science lab is to provide something akin to a haystack for mice when they have just given birth to a litter. It promotes a sense of security and comfort. Or think about the rhesus baby monkey that only hugs that fake cloth mother regardless of where feeding comes from (yet another classical psychological expt).
So when I flew over New Jersey over the dark night and the pilot suddenly directed our attention to the Statue of Liberty on the other side of the bay, I thought I was going to cry. It has nothing to do with freedom nor tourist attractions. It has everything to do with the grandeur of a sad beauty that weeps in the night as she stands alone with her blazing torch as her only company.
When I was ten years old, I saw her once and I thought she looked old and worn out. Now I make a point to see her everytime I plough this route. I wonder if this is like Oscar Wilde's story of the prince and the swallow, doomed to both fade away in the dark cold night, fulfilled but nonetheless ice cold.
The biological world is not in a perpetual cycle. It is perhaps shifting directionally, but unpredictably. (credit goes to Ernst Mayr, through Darwinism)
I am of course that heartless fellow who never cries at movies. Movies are make believe and make believe stuff do not touch me enough to make me cry.
But over Thanksgiving when I heard Hallelujah (by Rufus Wainwright) in Delmar Loop I felt moved beyond words. And then the Edukators made use of that song in yet another highly emotionaly scene. That's how beautiful Christmas is. It brings out an odd sense of emotional euphoria coupled with some sort of weirdly depressing but poignant all-things-come-to-an-end feeling.
Of course there really isn't a point to all of this. My point is that all of us want a point to all and everything. But transient is the way of life. So we develop defence mechanisms (yet another Freudian mechanism to preserve our sanity) and we come up with all sorts of things to justify and to reassure ourselves. Truth is, the only way to understand and truly possess security is to give it up. At the end of time, there really isn't much to talk about because nothing really needs to be said.
If 2005 has been a down year for you my friend, dance with me. Let it be our last dance in St. Louis. Let the snow flakes fall around us and we be oblivious to all. Let the winter sun set gracefully into the far horizon as we leave all that is painful behind us. Let the troop of geese that walks across that bare terrain of dried grass and weeds be the beacon of happiness for all mankind.
I put a little seed into the soil and I pray that next summer it shall be strong and healthy. Of course that is most probably not the case because as you know, hurricanes and earthquakes seem to be the talk of 2005. But nevertheless, the point (ar, finally a point!) is that I plant a seed of hope for all who mourn that which has passed us and is now in the wind.
And of course I give my l'ultimo bacio to the wind.
Hallelujah
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing
Hallelujah Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beautyin the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne,she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the
Hallelujah Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe I've been here before I know this room,
I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
It's almost like a triggered response, or a classically conditioned response. My life is segmented into different unrelated sections and that's something that I try to deal with.
I still remember that year that my sis went to Deutschland (aka Germany) for IA (and of course to practise her German skills) and she called back and cried because of the loneliness there. You know what? We humans are so conditioned to live in our comfort zones. We want to be surrounded by familiarity, but yet we yearn to break loose and explore the other side of the pasture. I remember that one of the most impt mice breeding techniques in the science lab is to provide something akin to a haystack for mice when they have just given birth to a litter. It promotes a sense of security and comfort. Or think about the rhesus baby monkey that only hugs that fake cloth mother regardless of where feeding comes from (yet another classical psychological expt).
So when I flew over New Jersey over the dark night and the pilot suddenly directed our attention to the Statue of Liberty on the other side of the bay, I thought I was going to cry. It has nothing to do with freedom nor tourist attractions. It has everything to do with the grandeur of a sad beauty that weeps in the night as she stands alone with her blazing torch as her only company.
When I was ten years old, I saw her once and I thought she looked old and worn out. Now I make a point to see her everytime I plough this route. I wonder if this is like Oscar Wilde's story of the prince and the swallow, doomed to both fade away in the dark cold night, fulfilled but nonetheless ice cold.
The biological world is not in a perpetual cycle. It is perhaps shifting directionally, but unpredictably. (credit goes to Ernst Mayr, through Darwinism)
I am of course that heartless fellow who never cries at movies. Movies are make believe and make believe stuff do not touch me enough to make me cry.
But over Thanksgiving when I heard Hallelujah (by Rufus Wainwright) in Delmar Loop I felt moved beyond words. And then the Edukators made use of that song in yet another highly emotionaly scene. That's how beautiful Christmas is. It brings out an odd sense of emotional euphoria coupled with some sort of weirdly depressing but poignant all-things-come-to-an-end feeling.
Of course there really isn't a point to all of this. My point is that all of us want a point to all and everything. But transient is the way of life. So we develop defence mechanisms (yet another Freudian mechanism to preserve our sanity) and we come up with all sorts of things to justify and to reassure ourselves. Truth is, the only way to understand and truly possess security is to give it up. At the end of time, there really isn't much to talk about because nothing really needs to be said.
If 2005 has been a down year for you my friend, dance with me. Let it be our last dance in St. Louis. Let the snow flakes fall around us and we be oblivious to all. Let the winter sun set gracefully into the far horizon as we leave all that is painful behind us. Let the troop of geese that walks across that bare terrain of dried grass and weeds be the beacon of happiness for all mankind.
I put a little seed into the soil and I pray that next summer it shall be strong and healthy. Of course that is most probably not the case because as you know, hurricanes and earthquakes seem to be the talk of 2005. But nevertheless, the point (ar, finally a point!) is that I plant a seed of hope for all who mourn that which has passed us and is now in the wind.
And of course I give my l'ultimo bacio to the wind.
Hallelujah
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing
Hallelujah Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beautyin the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne,she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the
Hallelujah Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe I've been here before I know this room,
I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, HallelujahHallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
posted by smartypants at 3:32 AM
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