HEAVY MEDICINE

Daylight, spotlight, Yukon midnight
This is how I feel oh
Lust for love but not for life
This is a mass appeal oh
Finished with that woman there oh
Take her if you please you’re

High enough and fly enough
You’ll find enough to help you see
My brain is buff with all this stuff
Prepared for mass appeal oh
Prepared for mass appeal oh

Midnight, bright light, skylight, pretty tight
There in her domain oh
Lust for love but not for life
This ain’t no fool’s parade no
Finished with that woman there oh
Take her if you please you’re

Hot for love but not for life
Not high enough, don’t fly enough
Not rough enough, fucked up enough
Enough for mass appeal oh
Enough for mass appeal oh

But you know your brains are fools
Now listen are you clear?
If I see you will destroy you
Satisfy my fear

When Saviour comes he’ll blow them all away
When Saviour comes he’ll blow them all away

Everywhere I go
Everything I do
The freaks they come
Kill ‘em all
Everywhere I go
Everything I do
The freaks they come

If you’re trying to freak me out
Blow apart my undercover
I know it’s not my place to say
Could tell you but I’d have to kill you
The freaks come out at night you know
I wanna kill ‘em all you know

This is a conversation I had on Facebook with my friend Tristan Laing.  The guy is brilliant.  His blog is called  Northern Song

A: I think that the idea of moral universality after God is a bit of a joke.

B: Do you think that God is a bit of a joke?

A: God’s pretty serious. *makes serious face*

B: What about a moral universality…period?

A: Do I think it’s serious? No, of course not. I already said that.

B: I was just taking God completely out of the equation…I don’t really know what is meant by “after God”.

A: I mean after things are no longer for the sake of God. It’s usually associated with the rise of scientific thinking, so the last 3 or 4 hundred years I guess. Pretty over.

B: Do you you agree consciousness can’t precede existence?….that if there is consciousness there has to be something possessing that consciousness?

A: Precede in what sense? In time, then it would depend what time was. In formula, then it would depend on what consciousness is, and possibly on time as well.

B: I don’t really mean in a chronological sense. I mean that “there has to be something possessing that consciousness”…and by consciousness I mean awareness in an axiomatic sense. My point is that God is usually thought of as a universal consciousness without a metaphysical form…Descartes said, “I think therefore I am” and is that different than saying, ” I am therefore I think”? Some people ask, “What is the meaning of life”…maybe it is better to ask, “What is the meaning of MY life.?”

A: What’s the meaning of “life”? What’s the meaning of “my”? What’s the meaning of “is”? What’s the meaning of “meaning”? And, maybe more importantly, what’s the meaning of “ask”?

B: Part of the Wikipedia definition of life is “a process that distinguishes organisms from non-living objects, such as non-life, and dead organisms. Living organisms are capable of growth and reproduction, some can communicate and many can adapt to their environment through changes originating internally.” It also says that “there is no universal definition of life. To define life in unequivocal terms is still a challenge for scientists.” …but maybe we can define it enough to discuss it.

A: Maybe, but this kind of account of life is biological life, life as a determinately present scientific object, fixed in its structure. It’s unclear what relation that sense of life has to the sense of life I use when I say “My life”. Certainly I don’t mean something about biology, I’m probably talking about my experiences, my attitudes, my actions, in the past present and future. Right?

B: …aren’t your experiences, attitudes, actions…(consciousness?) dependent upon you existing biologically and also on the nature of your metaphysical being?…2 arms….no antlers…brain…thumbs…if you are paralyzed or not…etc.

A: Maybe, but I don’t see why we can assume that. We only know about biology because we were already conscious.

There was this girl like midnight
Gina was her name oh
She would dance by moonlight
Gina was her name oh

Her father was a found man
Mother was his saviour
She would dance by moonlight
Only just to save him

Solitary day
Over there she’s the star that’s in your eye
Bright light in your solitary day
Over there she’s the star that’s in your eye

Sing a sad little song
Cuz she lose her attraction
Now but all this is so far from her mind
Into the shadows
And out goes the spotlight
Gina was her name oh

Who was that girl like midnight yeah
Who was that girl like midnight

Hey solitary day oh
Solitary someday oh may she come home

Thanks to Sean Reynolds for playing drums and Bryan Jasper for the cool guitar solo.

I met Delilah on the road about a year ago. We talked for a while and then I invited her to my room for a drink. When we got to the room, without saying a word, she took off her clothes and lay naked on the bed. I curled around her yielding body as she spoke softly about her brother who died in a car accident. Afterwards, she got dressed and walked towards the door. “It was nice meeting you,” she said politely and left.

Six months later we played in Delilah’s hometown. I spotted her on the dance floor wearing high heels and a short black dress. I sat at her table and she introduced me to her mom.

“You stay away from my daughter or I’ll murder you!” her mom spat violently in my face.

So I took Delilah’s hand, led her through the club and out the front door. When we got to the parking lot I dragged her into the back of the band van. I was excited to be with this strange creature. Then we saw the flashing lights.

“Oh no!” she panicked. “I’m not supposed to be around cops.” She tried hiding behind me as two cops came to the van and called her name. After opening the door they handcuffed her and tossed her into the back of their cruiser. Somewhat discouraged, I returned to the hotel.

***

When Delilah got out of jail I made plans to visit with her at a hotel on my way to the next gig. The hotel was busy that night with tree planters who were passing through and partying before starting work the next morning. I was lucky to get a room on the third floor where the planters were partying even in the hallways. I went to my room, took a shower and got ready to meet Delilah and her friend downstairs in the lounge.

When I joined the girls we drank beer and sang karaoke. It was then I realized I had forgotten my hotel key inside the room. I tracked down a night janitor who helped me retrieve the key. When I returned to the lounge I escorted Delilah and her friend back to my room. I placed the key and my money, about a hundred dollars, on the dresser and we continued to drink and talk for a while until her friend went home. Then there was a knock on the door. I opened it and was immediately surrounded by three tree planters who were obviously geeked on go.

“Dude. Your girlfriend put crack in the weed man,” one of them threatened. It turns out that when I went to get my key Delilah had smoked a joint with them. I now found myself in a precarious position. It would be unwise to fight these guys with no backup around, especially when they were so jacked up, so I told them that it would be best for everyone if they just minded their own fucking business. With that they quietly left. An hour later though there was another knock at the door.

“Security.”

“Just a minute.” I dressed and opened the door. Unexpectedly, the three tree planters propelled gallons of soapy water from a large garbage pail onto the bed where Delilah was laying and then swiftly ran off giggling like schoolgirls.

I thought their action was kind of funny but Delilah didn’t. I walked downstairs and got some dry bedding and pillows. The tree planters were nowhere to be seen. When I returned Delilah was on the phone to her homies.

“Wanna earn some rocks?” I heard her say. “Come and get these guys for me.”

About a half an hour later two acne-scarred thugs showed up. One of them pulled a sawed-off shotgun from a brown paper bag. “Who are you?” he asked.

“He’s in the band,” Delilah answered for me. “The fucking assholes went down the hall.” With that the four of us walked down the hallway trying to track down the tree planters. Delilah and her homies proceeded to bang on every door screaming obscenities at the top of their lungs. I was relieved when we didn’t find them. We went back to my room and one of her thugs accidentally dropped his loaded weapon onto the floor.

Delilah began to calm down after her homies left. It was time for me to leave for the next gig so I began packing my bags. I went to the dresser where I put the room key and my money. The key was there but the money was gone. It seemed the perfect ending to a night I would rather forget.