“He that findeth his life shall lose it:
and he that loseth his life for
my sake shall find it.”
Matthew 10:39

While I'm on the topic of dying to self, of initiating divorce proceedings from the devil and hell, and not turning back, I'm going to post "The Tragedian."  The song is from the Is It For Real? album and was directly inspired by The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis.  I highly recommend the audiobook pasted at the bottom of my last article, if you're unfamiliar with it.  The chapters are named after different archetypes of humanity that are resistant to repentance, of which "The Tragedian" is one.

It's worth stating that I was still a drinker when I wrote the song.  This month will mark 9 years away from alcohol, but at the time, I was still struggling with it.  I'm not going to bore you by regaling you with yet another diatribe about how making art is not a holy event that takes place at the crossroads of obedience and rebellion, upon which the artist has 2 choices:  GOOD OR EVIL.  Instead, I will paste this excerpt from Nick Cave's The Red Hand Files, which makes the point as well as it has ever been made.  The article is about an A.I. version of a Nick Cave song, the validity of which he eviscerates with accuracy and eloquence.

As he states,

"Songs arise out of suffering.  Writing a good song is not mimicry, or replication, or pastiche, it is the opposite.  It is an act of self-murder that destroys all one has strived to produce in the past.  It is those dangerous, heart-stopping departures that catapult the artist beyond the limits of what he or she recognises as their known self.  This is part of the authentic creative struggle that precedes the invention of a unique lyric of actual value; it is the breathless confrontation with one’s vulnerability, one’s perilousness, one’s smallness, pitted against a sense of sudden shocking discovery; it is the redemptive artistic act that stirs the heart of the listener, where the listener recognizes in the inner workings of the song their own blood, their own struggle, their own suffering."

Well said, as usual.  Thank you, Nick.

So, if an artificially-intelligent robot can construct a bad Nick Cave song out of prefab infernal imagery and lyrical themes,

Can an artificially-holy social-engineering project who is enabled by a demonic entertainment industry construct a disingenuous praise & worship gospel song by name-dropping Jesus Christ in every verse, while searching and seeking after God in no way whatsoever?

INSERT ARTIFICIALLY-HOLY SONG HERE

(I can't post one myself, because I can't get far enough into the unlistenable sound product to decide whether or not it's true.  For ONE person (if not the artist), it might be, and I don't want to ruin it for them.  Suffice it to say, there is no shortage of artificially-holy Christian music today).

Of course, artificial holiness has been around a lot longer than artificial intelligence.  Artificial art came along somewhere in the middle.  Now, all three have amalgamated into one cycloptic mass of gray Play-Doh that smothers the entire world in nearsighted, self-congratulating ignoromics.  Put simply, self-righteous idiots who can't write or sing now dominate the culture-space.  At least in the West.

Tragic.

In contrast, the song "The Tragedian" ponders the wisdom of remaining in the house of rebellion with the "sad, sexy hellions."  It asks God why it has to die, and why it is necessary to fall toward great heights (as opposed to falling from them) in order to reach Heaven.  The cover art depicts a tragic mask of sorrow and rage (no happiness or joy), behind which blue, infernal flames rise into the shape of devil horns.  The title of the album itself is Is It For Real?  Not, "I am the best," or "I bless the world with my would-be harmless, denial-ridden existence."  Not even, "give me more mead, thou shapely bar wench," but rather: 

IS IT FOR REAL?  What is for real?  Heaven?  Hell?  God?  The devil?  My sanctification?  My forgiveness?  My sin?  My faith?  Is my faith just a mask, behind which I stash all kinds of rebellious desires?  Or am I for real?  Am I what I say (or think) I am?  Or am I the brunt of a joke?  A joke I tell on myself every day?  Am I nothing more than a tragic, self-deceived ruse who believes everything he hears about himself, unless it isn't flattering?

It's a question that I believe everyone should ask themselves in the least-negotiable terms possible.  While it's true that there is wisdom in not beating oneself up over every little peccadillo and imperfection, it's also true that you can take "not being too hard on yourself" way too far.  Be too hard on yourself, for a change.  You can take it.  And you can dial it back, if you take it too far.  But you'll never know where the edge of that cliff is, if you never go anywhere near it.  Who said it?  "You never know what's enough until you know what's too much."  Hunter S. Thompson?  William Blake, again?  Both, probably.  Stating the obvious, as usual:

"Enough! or Too much!"
William Blake

You are, of course, free to continue down the path of artificially-holy, unintelligent music and writing if you please.  If that's the kind of praise and worship your god finds pleasing, allow me to suggest a different God.  However, if you're interested in music that reflects your own progress (or lack thereof), whether real, imagined, completely disregarded, or diligently sought after, it's out there.  But, like most things worthwhile, you might have to look for it.

"Seek, and ye shall find."
Matthew 7:7

If you like "The Tragedian" and want to hear it in a different context, it also appears on the American Refugee collection, and the "Driving in Mexico" video mixtape.  But I'm only directing you to them out of habit.  There is real liberation in NOT looking back at the infernal horrorscape of my old material.  Today's verse on King James Bible Online is Matthew 10:39, after all.  There is rightness in dying to self, in not looking back, in falling toward the heights of Heaven, rather than from them.

But the song occurred to me, since my last article mentions the book that inspired it.  So I thought I'd share it.

Thanks for listening.

The Tragedian

We built a house out of flowers and flames
we indulged in a deadly kiss
we dangled our hearts on uncertain strings
over the precipice
but the petals are sour
and love lasts an hour
nothing will happen,
the sun will go down
and at the slightest doubt
the fire will go out
and love will relinquish her crown

   Oh why
   must I die
   before I learn to fly?
   And how high
   shall I fall
   if I'm to reach Heaven at all?
   I'm over the wall

Let's go back to the previous track
back where the sidewalk begins
let's carve our hearts in the clouds
so our passions can rule again
shall we admire the liar
on the landscape of fire
with brimstone on his breath?
Shall we join the rebellion
of sad,
sexy hellions,
and the transient pleasures of death?

   Oh why
   must I die
   before I learn to fly?
   And how high
   shall I fall
   if I'm to reach Heaven at all?
   I'm over the wall

If it would do any good
I would meet you in hell
but you won't bring hell into me
nothing you say
will lead me astray
from my destiny
but my heart is in stitches
and dreams with the fishes
under the starry sea
cuz we all know that beauty
has no sense of duty
but a great sense of tragedy

©2014 Nathan Payne