Something is Better than Nothing . . .

Since it has been a very very very very long time since I have posted anything (and because a dear friend of mine who is far away is guilt tripping me), I feel compelled to write something. But I am too tired and too busy to come up with anything particularly profound. So I'll just post these two completely unrelated things with no commentary, just because I feel like it. So there . . .

Here are some verses from a song that I like:

When you get off work tonight,
meet me at the construction site,
and we'll write some notes to tape,
to the heavy machines.

Like "We hope they treat you well."
"Hope you don't work too hard."
"We hope you get to be
happy sometimes."

Hey, I found the safest place,
to keep all our tenderness,
keep all those bad ideas,
keep all our hope.
It's here in the smallest bones,
the feet and the inner ear.
It's such an enormous thing,
to walk and to listen.

And I'd like to fall asleep to the beat of you breathing,
in a room near a truck stop,
on a highway somewhere.

You are a radio,
you are an open door.
I am a faulty string,
of blue Christmas lights.

You swim through frequencies,
you let that stranger in,
as I'm blinking off and on
and off again.

Well, these are my favorite chords,
I know you like them too.
when I get a new guitar,
you could have this one.

And sing me a lullaby,
sing me the alphabet,
sing me a story I
haven't heard yet.
-"My Favorite Chords" by the Weakerthans

And here is the question for the day (or for the semester (or for the rest of my life))

How are we supposed to access the meaning of music (music without words) if it communicates non-propositionally? It seems to mean something, and something is seemingly communicated to us when we listen to it, but what in the world is that "something"?




I go bed.