Clothed in white, I walked a sunlit path until I came to a great ocean. She forced me to taste her waters and I began to drown. She billowed above me. She reached for me, crushing me in her tide. She pushed me down, closing around me. She stole my breath to feed her lust. I looked into her depths and saw others bound there. They beckoned me to join them. She pushed me down further still, bidding me to accept the silence as the others had, but I could not. I looked into their faces. They did not fight to free themselves from their watery grave. They were content to lie there, content to conceal the betrayal of innocence, but not I. I fought to rise above her. I broke free from her embrace. I left her treacherous waves, clothed in shame, and walked the path once more.

I came to a fork. One path was dark and consumed by thorns. The second path was filled with a bright light. I chose the path bathed in light and was lured into darkness. The light blazed, giving birth to a fiery beast. She rose slowly above me. She reached for me, searing my skin with her touch. She pushed me down and a wall of fire encompassed me. She bound me, melting my lips. Her smoky hands clamped around my neck. She stole my breath to feed her malice. I looked into her depths and saw others bound there, their faces twisted with rage. She pushed me down, further still, bidding me to accept my anger as the others had, but I could not. I looked into their faces. They did not fight to free themselves from their fiery grave. They were content to burn there, but not I. I fought to rise above her. I broke free from her embrace. I left her treacherous flames, clothed in anguish, and walked the path once more.

A heavy fog began to rise around me. I wandered until I came to a clearing. There I found a woman sitting on a stool, wet and naked. I approached the woman slowly, moving the damp hair from her face. Her skin was hot and burned my hand. She did not see me. Her gaze was fixed upon the empty canvas before her. In one hand, she held a paint brush and in the other, an empty glass. She wept bitterly. Her tears streamed down her face, collecting in the glass. I watched as she dipped the brush in her tears and began to paint. Stroke after stroke, she slashed at the canvas in fury yet no image emerged. She turned to me and painted lips upon my face. I started to thank her and a web grew in my open mouth. I tore the web away and the woman laughed as it grew back. She turned back to her canvas painting furiously. The more she painted the tighter her web bound me. I fought to free myself as her agony stole my breath. There were no others this time. I was alone. She bid me stay in this waste, but I could not.  I rent the web from my face. I fought to rise above her. I emerged from her cocoon of sorrow and faced her. She stood and pointed with her brush to the painting.

The fog parted as I crawled through the canvas. I shed my shame, anger, and grief. I stood. I breathed.

Clothed in desire, grace, and hope, I walked a sunlit path once more.


When Politics And Pachelbel’s Canon Collide

As I’ve said before, the nineties were some of the best years for music. In 1994, a group called Blues Traveler released an album called Four. Four was a certified six-time platinum album owing its success largely to songs like “Runaround”, which charted at #8 (Billboard Hot 100) and which also won a grammy for Best Rock Performance by a duo or group.

The genius of the album is found in its lyrics, particularly the musical theory meta hit, “Hook.” I won’t go into detail as this is pretty widely known, but you can click here if you’re looking for a more in-depth explanation than the one that follows. The song uses a simple chord progression common in popular songs, but its lyrics take a jab at listeners. The cleverly penned lyrics boast of their meaninglessness and how that doesn’t matter because the hook of the song will bring listeners back time and again. “Hook” does all that it claims it will do and in 1994, listeners reacted just as the lyrics predicted and “Hook” charted at #23 (Billboard Hot 100).

I heard this song on the radio this morning and naturally, Donald Trump came to mind. Donald Trump’s campaign is nothing more than word salad drizzled with the Tea Party’s sleazy oil and vinegar rhetoric pompously dumped on America’s democratic dinner plate. And unsurprisingly,  Americans are eating it up. The song’s lyrics begin:

It doesn’t matter what I say
So long as I sing with inflection
That makes you feel I’ll convey
Some inner truth or vast reflection
But I’ve said nothing so far
And I can keep it up for as long as it takes
And it don’t matter who you are
If I’m doing my job then it’s your resolve that breaks

As if Donald Trump has taken a cue from “Hook” he blatantly begins his September 2015 Dallas speech, with the following:

Wow. Amazing. Amazing, thank you. So exciting. Do you notice what’s missing tonight? Teleprompters! [APPLAUSE] No teleprompters. We don’t want teleprompters. That would be so much easier: We read a speech for 45 minutes, everybody falls asleep listening to the same old stuff, the same old lies.

There is something amiss
I am being insincere
In fact I don’t mean any of this
Still my confession draws you near

Donald’s letting us know that during the course of his presidential campaign it won’t matter what he’s actually saying because the hook is going to bring the American people back time and again. He informs the American people that politics are essentially a lie and that no one’s actually listening to the speeches anyway so he can get away with standing at a podium for 45 minutes blowing hot air.

“Hook” continues:

To confuse the issue I refer
To familiar heroes from long ago

And Trump delivers:

“It is better to live one day as a lion than 100 years as a sheep.” 

Many were quick to point out that Trump had tweeted a Mussolini quote. Trump didn’t care. Nor did his supporters, many of whom are unable to differentiate between Hitler’s quotes and The Donald’s.

But it’s okay …

Because the Hook brings you back
I ain’t tellin you no lie
The Hook brings you back
On that you can rely

Which brings us to the song’s ending:

So desperately I sing to thee

of rage and hate and pain

“Maybe he should have been roughed up,” Trump said. And, ” When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending their best. They’re not sending you. They’re not sending you. They’re sending people that have lots of problems, and they’re bringing those problems with us. They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” Also, “Sadly, the overwhelming amount of violent crime in our major cities is committed by blacks and hispanics-a tough subject-must be discussed.”


Could be financial suicide

Four of his businesses have filed bankruptcy. via Politifact

but I’ve got too much pride inside

He’s a narcissist. No, really. Everyone’s saying it.

Many of us thought Trump’s presidential bid was a joke. Yet, he’s actually growing in popularity.

I will go on all day. Hear what I say
I have a prayer to pray
That’s really all this was
And when I’m feeling stuck and need a buck
I don’t rely on luck because…

… the American people are so ignorant and they just don’t care that I’m a charlatan. “I love the poorly educated,” he said.

The far right in America heard the whispered hook of GOP and Tea Party rhetoric and Trump is singing it loud and proud and they love it so hard. You can hear it throughout the nation. That whispered hook has now swelled to a deafening chorus.

The Hook brings you back
I ain’t tellin‘ you no lie
The Hook…
On that you can rely

What’s the hook? Hatred. Bigotry. White supremacy. Make America white again. Trump is playing a political version of Pachelbel’s CanonIt’s a lazy progression of rhetoric, formulaic even, and Trump knows it’s popularity among the far right. He knows it’s a guaranteed win, and like “Hook,” the joke will be on the listeners if Trump succeeds.

I wanna bust all your balloons
I wanna burn all your cities to the ground


I fear the hook has already embedded itself in the American public as video after video of Trump rally violence and racism surfaces. The hook has done what it was meant to do. It’s infected its listeners, and I fear it may be too late to rid America of the volatile earworm of white supremacy currently propelling Trump to the White House.

How sad that in these modern times, America is the Pan in a progressive land, refusing to grow because the Hook of hatred and racism just keeps bringing us back to this endless cycle of ignorance.

The Hook brings you back
I ain’t tellin you no lie
The Hook…
On that you can rely…

On that you can rely…


“Hook” written by John Popper, Blues Traveler (lyrics)