I’ve seen the needle
and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone ~ Neil Young
Sunday morning (I) wrote, “Our cultural rot is so pervasive it is hard to imagine how we can survive it. If we’re not being entertained by the performance of Narcissi, we’re being entertained by his daily march to the cliff. Celebrity self-destruction has become the most popular American spectator sport! I’m not sure which is more pathetic, the lost soul in the arena, or those of us feeding on it.”
An hour or so after these words came to me I went to the Drudge Report and after the page loaded I began to scroll down. All I had to see was the top half of Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s head to know the tragic headline below, before my eyes were even able to read the words…
At the end of the same writing, (I) wished for “God to make our individual purpose known to our hearts.” The fact is I don’t write anything as much as I’ve realized my purpose is to channel whatever it is that manifests as a writing…a writing that I end up reading no differently than you. Only I get to read it first. I think I developed this through song-writing. The fact is that I am only that which God himself has made me. And I am at my best when I have emptied myself of myself to make a space for something greater.
Deepak Chopra wrote “The voice of God is in the gap between our thoughts.” Didn’t some great jazz musician say that the greatest music was between the notes?
Watching James Lipton this morning on the State-controlled MSNBC as he angrily blamed the “G – d D – – mn drugs” for the final act of “the best actor of his generation”, I wondered if he was really that clueless, or was he just speaking as someone so completely invested in the God-like mirage he himself helped to create, maintain and perpetuate. It’s really kind of like the Pharmaceutical Industry praying for the end of cancer, obesity and depression.
The Truth is that Phillip Seymour Hoffman died by his own hand because he bought into the God-makers mythology. He became dependent on their seductive opiate, filling himself with himself…until he finally exploded. It is the curse of celebrity! It’s as if they’ve hooked up a tow line to the center of their navels to pull them away from the very origin of their creativity. Even McCartney has become more of an escapee from his own Wax Museum than the genius from Liverpool! There’s actually a bit of a joke making its way around the Working Class pubs in Liverpool…Sir Paul has his head so far up the Ruling Class butt, they call him Sir Pository! 🙂 …as the desperate dream-weavers circle the wagons around the dying Narcissi.
Sometimes it seems this life has passed me by….without me knowin,
People say I’m not the man I used to be.
I feel like darkness is the only way to hide the shadow…..
…that waits upon my hand to murder me, yeah. ~ My Hand
(I) wrote “My Hand” for a non-celebrity friend who, but by the grace of God, friends, family and a wonderful wife, wouldn’t have made it. It’s much harder for celebrity because of the power of fame and the pull of the machine and its entourage. It requires superhuman strength to say NO to that pusher-man! Hoffman couldn’t! McCartney can’t…
Chip Murray – Gibson SJ Deluxe guitar
Marji Zintz – Vocal
Steve Bernstein – Mandolin
Pete Verutes – Bass
Michael Reale – Percussion Listen Here!
We thank you for blessing our lives with music. Help us to be mindful that we are only the reeds dancing with the winds of your creation. Let us pick up our instruments, empty our vessels to make way for the miracle of your grace to manifest in and from our hearts to all who will listen.
In your name we pray,
PS- (I) didn’t write the Musician’s Prayer, (I) just sing it! 😉