There are two basic schools of thought among grad students on how to spend recreational time:
1. Get drunk and avoid shop talk, except to bitch about shop; or
2. Get drunk and talk shop.
I fall firmly into the first camp. The stress and intellectual rigor of grad school are mentally exhausting. Before starting, I would have understood a phrase like "mentally exhausting" metaphorically, but now I know what it feels like for your mind to actually be tired, too tired to continue doing brain-like things. So when I don't have to think deeply about anything, I prefer not to. I like to drink High Life and yell at people about whatever I happen not to like at any given moment.
But I think I may be moving into the second camp. It's a biproduct of the economy. I'm growing to realize how slim my job prospects really are, and how little these years of grad school are likely to contribute to whatever career I use to make an honest living once I've finished my PhD. The "professor" thing may yet work out, but it's too much of an outside chance to be much of a motivator anymore. So I'm hoping to rejuvenate a little intrinsic interest in what I study--embrace the life of the mind, pursue knowledge for its own sake, etc etc.
What am I interested in? Good question. I've lost sight of that in the past couple of years. But here is the question that still bugs me more than any other: how does religion work? If religion is revealed by God, why are there so many, and why are they all so simultaneously contradictory yet plausible? And if they are purely a human contrivance, why are they so appealing, and why do they have such staying power. No single flip answer satisfies.
So expect more about that. Especially if you have a beer with me.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Favorite Songs of the Decade #9, Coldplay, "Moses"
Anybody who knows me knows it's axiomatic that I hate Coldplay. This is largely because I cultivate the image of somebody who hates Coldplay; deep inside, I kind of like a few of their songs, and I feel mostly ambivalent about most of the rest. I mostly just loathe Chris Martin: that sexless falsetto warble, those self-important pseudo-profound lyrics, the sniveling yen to split the difference between the worst things about Bono and Thom Yorke.
But I have always thought that "Moses" is magnificent.
Everything is in place. It begins with a muted guitar string arpeggio, which leads to the core rhythm guitar riff, which sets the stage for one of my favorite guitar leads ever. It's not fancy, but it weaves in and out of the rhythm guitar perfectly--it feels like somebody searching desperately for something. Chris Martin's lyrics are innocuous and his vocal doesn't ruin the song, which is all I really ask for.
But what sets this song apart, what makes it GREAT, is the bridge. If you've ever talked to me about music over alcohol, you've probably gotten the "bridge" rant. I am convinced that the bridge is the pivotal moment in a pop song. Any fool can write two verses and a chorus; it's the bridge that distinguishes a great pop song from all the riffraff. Most Coldplay songs have shitty bridges. The bridge, for instance, ruins "Clocks," a wonderful song that peters out when it should be launching into the stratosphere.
"Moses" doesn't peter out. Starting at 3:23, the song strips down to just the rhythm guitar and Chris Martin's vocal. It hovers there for almost a minute, building on Martin's vocal, until it explodes. And then it ends, before the effect is lost. Very nearly a masterpiece. I love it.
But I have always thought that "Moses" is magnificent.
Everything is in place. It begins with a muted guitar string arpeggio, which leads to the core rhythm guitar riff, which sets the stage for one of my favorite guitar leads ever. It's not fancy, but it weaves in and out of the rhythm guitar perfectly--it feels like somebody searching desperately for something. Chris Martin's lyrics are innocuous and his vocal doesn't ruin the song, which is all I really ask for.
But what sets this song apart, what makes it GREAT, is the bridge. If you've ever talked to me about music over alcohol, you've probably gotten the "bridge" rant. I am convinced that the bridge is the pivotal moment in a pop song. Any fool can write two verses and a chorus; it's the bridge that distinguishes a great pop song from all the riffraff. Most Coldplay songs have shitty bridges. The bridge, for instance, ruins "Clocks," a wonderful song that peters out when it should be launching into the stratosphere.
"Moses" doesn't peter out. Starting at 3:23, the song strips down to just the rhythm guitar and Chris Martin's vocal. It hovers there for almost a minute, building on Martin's vocal, until it explodes. And then it ends, before the effect is lost. Very nearly a masterpiece. I love it.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
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