Yes, very eerie.

So Evanman, humor me if you will and elaborate on your previous comment. (I know you like that ol' rock 'n roll. You said so.) :wink:

I mean, it is really spooky that the lyrics can mean so much to ex-CoGgers like us who were convinced that what we had was of the "light" and wonderful, only to discover that not all that glitters is Gold.

It was fool's Gold.

We thought that it was a "Holy Place".
Meeting "on that beautiful shore in the sweet by and by", is a line from an old hymn speaking of heaven.

CoG/Family has no "Glory" anymore for me.

Thanks Evanman,
(Whew, I was beginning to wonder if my musings were just "audio hallucinations." )
So, do you have any songs that particularly affect you? Or a good quote? They're also interesting to ponder and can make for some stimulating conversation.

Not particularly. I don't listen to much music these days.

Speaking of Eagles, i always liked The Last Resort, especially the last several lines:


She came from Providence, the one in Rhode Island
Where the old world shadows hang heavy in the air.
She packed her hopes and dreams like a refugee,
Just as her father came across the sea.
She heard about a place people were smilin',
They spoke about the red man's way, how they loved the land.
And they came from everywhere to the Great Divide
Seeking a place to stand or a place to hide.
Down in the crowded bars out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all what it's like up there.
And they called it paradise, I don't know why.
Somebody laid the mountains low while the town got high.
Then the chilly winds blew down across the desert,
Through the canyons of the coast to the Malibu
Where the pretty people play hungry for power
To light their neon way and give them things to do.
Some rich man came and raped the land, nobody caught 'em,
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes and, Jesus, people bought 'em.
And they called it paradise, the place to be,
They watched the hazy sun sinking in the sea.
You can leave it all behind and sail to Lahaina
Just like the missionaries did so many years ago.
They even brought a neon sign 'Jesus is Coming',
Brought the white man's burden down, brought the white man's reign.
Who will provide the grand design, what is yours and what is mine?
'Cause there is no more new frontier, we have got to make it here.
We satisfy our endless needs and justify our bloody deeds
In the name of destiny and in the name of God.
And you can see them there on Sunday morning
Stand up and sing about what it's like up there.
They called it paradise, I don't know why.
You call some place paradise - kiss it goodbye


i once felt that COG was my paradise, but as soon as i called it that - poof! - it was over.

I know what you mean.

But, to quote another british singer--"This is the road to Hell!"

Oh yes, "The Last Resort." That's a good one, too. No words being minced there.

Several years back, when it first came out, Tracy Chapman's "New Beginnings" CD made quite an impression on me. Her song "Tell it like it is" describes the agony of injustice all around us and our need to speak out and tell it like it is. In part, she sings:

"...But say you'll never close your eyes or pretend that it's a rosy world
Say you'll never try to paint what is rotten with a sugarcoat
Say you'll talk about the horrors you've seen and the torment you know
And tell it like it is
Say it say it say it
So no one can forget..."

Another song on her CD, "Remember the Tinman," really strips away the fluff and asks the questions,
"...Who stole your heart?
Did you know but forget the moment or method in time?
Was it a trickster using mirrors and sleight of hand, a strong elixir,
Or a potion that you drank?
Who hurt your heart, bruised it in a place
That no one and nothing can heal?

You've gone to wizards, princes and magic men.
You've gone to witches, the good, the bad, the indifferent.
But still all sentiment is gone.
But still you have no trust in no one.

If you can tear down the walls
Throw your armor away
Remove all roadblocks and barricades
If you can forget there are bandits and dragons to slay
And don't forget that you defend an empty space
And remember the tinman found he had what he thought he lacked
Remember the tinman
Go find your heart and take it back..."

These poets are very good at presenting the problem, unfortunately they offer no answers.

That's what art does though, Evanman. Sometimes it just poses a question, sometimes an observation or desire. Occasionally it offers direction. The arts are expressions of ourselves and our humanity. It can express our innermost thoughts and yearnings, both the artist's as well as his/her audience, and can show that dark side as easily as an enchanting one. Art can compel us to ask our own questions, to examine issues and perspectives, inspire us or simply calm and affirm us. Art can engender sympathy, evoke indignance, comfort and teach us compassion, tolerance and unity, all righteous attributes.
The answers though are uniquely ours, how or whether we chose to consider the work.

Sadly, too often people wallow in the poetry and exalt the poets.

I used to really be into the Moody Blues--like a lot of people of my generation.

They wrote a song which summed up the facts< "I'm just a singer in a rock and roll band"!

Sure, moderation isn't one of our more notable skills. There is a fine line between true appreciation and obsession. On the other hand, powerful, moving pieces often come out of extraordinary experiences and hard work. Believable actors must become the character they play. That could be mistaken for obsession, but it is more likely a reflection of the actors' love for the art and their striving for mastery and perfection.

One of my favorite Moody Blues songs is You Can Never Go Home, especially the lines:

"Don't deny the feeeling that is stealing through your heart,
Every happy ending needs to have a start.

All my life i never realy knew me till today,
Now i know why, i'm just another step along the way.

Weep no more for treasures you've been searching for in vain
'cos the truth is gently falling with the rain.
High above the forest lie the pastures of the sun,
Where the two that learned the secret are now one."

I have to disagree.

I'm reminded a comment the actress Beryl Reid made when someone was shocked that she wasn't actually a lesbian in her role in "The Killing of Sister George". She said, "Does that mean you have to become a murderer in order to act the part of a murderer?"

Obviously not. I do know what you mean though--good actors have to be believable. Some go to extremes whereby they constantly take on the persona of the character all during the filming. This is called "The Method". It may help the actor, but it is a dangerous practice as it adversly affects the mental health of the actor.

That's a good point. Perhaps it would have been better said that, an actor who makes an effort to know his character's frame of mind and background, along with understanding the historical, political and geographical setting in place, contributes to a more believable portrayal of his part which, in turn, would naturally enhance the overall production.

I like to think that imagination isn't relegated to only the lunatics among us.

DAY,
After all this years , you surprize me, You write well whereas I still struggle with simple sentences. Surely you didn't learn from reading all those Mo letters or from the fanastic opportunites in TF. It's amazing to read your postings , especially since there is a voice to speak about the experiances of the past and how things are now. I would encourage you to expand your writing ; the world is a much better place with you as it is.

Cherub

Thank you for your kind words, Cherub. You have always been such an encouragement to me.

You're right, I do like to write stuff. When I first began, in earnest, it occurred to me that there were things I wanted to say, things that were important to me. It seemed that, until that time, what I thought, how I felt or what I loved didn't matter. (Who cared what I thought anyway? Besides, it was easier to acquiesce, keep my head down... and "don't be puttin' on no airs.") But once I began to write, something "enlivened" within me. There is great satisfaction to be had in putting our thoughts into words. What's more, to hopefully couch them in graceful or entertaining terms is even better yet. It is healthy to express ourselves.