On the island of perfection, maybe they do feed you ice cream at every meal. Beautiful men/women sashay past, ripe for plucking. There’s all the TV, every video game, every drug and every gadget you can imagine. You have everything, but the satisfaction of the chase in getting these things.

In turn, probably these things as goals are not enough to satisfy you, since you’ve got your wits and a soul. You’re not high maintenance just for wanting more out of life, knowing that death will come, or even more terrifying, that you will live forever and might experience a boredom so profound suicide will have a refreshing sound to it.

Challenge is what makes us strong. In musical genres, it’s what makes some music be more compelling than the rest. Some album dashed out over a few beers, with nothing to say except how clever it is, will be fun for two weeks; a great album like Pure Holocaust might keep you listening for a lifetime. In metal, we’re strongest when the world hates us so much the only people who get a break are those who stand strong by their vision, overcome multiple adversities, and have to stick with it for years before they get a chance. This is why first albums are usually better than fifth albums, and why when metal gets social acceptance it usually becomes the same simpering stuff that tries to please while trying too hard to be different.

One of my professors, a gentleman whose opinion I respected, never cared about metal music, and in fact dismissed it: ”I don’t listen to popular music.” At the time, I thought: what a prick. Over the intervening years, I’ve seen his point. Popular music is part of the same gunk that makes life terrible, the steady stream of fool-fascinating movies and television and video games and drugs and ”sexy” celeb-prostitutes who have the depth of a saucer of air. Popular culture is part of this same disease that oppresses us, and what he was saying was that he wanted it out of his life.

For some time, I’ve realized that this attitude helps metal. If we take the outlook that all popular music is shit, and include metal in it, we only make room for the exceptions, and the truly brilliant works. Our praise is not cheap. We have held the music to a higher standard, instead of accepting nearly everything that comes our way because ”it’s metal.” Yes, there’s less to listen to, but what you do listen to leaves a greater impression on you. Such is the poetry of challenge, the genius of natural selection, and the reason why if you love metal you should love it like a clandestine tryst, in rare moments of clarity and not suffocating your life in the mediocrity of the mundane.

On the goddamn internet message boards…

People argue with talismans. It’s not that they think they have a solution, but that they believe if they uphold a general principle, everything will work out OK.
They interpret this principle through themselves, through reward. For some, this is an ability to earn money; for those who oppose them, it’s the ability to consider themselves right even though they don’t make money, because they’re more altruistic.
They aren’t trying to solve any problems. They’re trying to be right.

The two basic groups keep each other in balance, which prevents any change from occurring, so they are locked in an infinite cycle of argument. Nothing is decided. Nothing changes. Everyone goes home angry, sure the others are wrong and sure they’re right, but not quite sure enough.

The human disease persists, and all we have is chatter to show for it. If a car is heading over a cliff, and the occupants of that car talk the problem to death and agree to disagree, who turns the wheel? God?

If the wheel doesn’t turn, death occurs. We as a species are in control of our fate. Not everyone has the ability to understand what is needed. To turn the wheel, we need to filter out the chatter and find some wise leaders.

Cradle of Filth sux.

When I was less sure of who I was, I could get unsettled easily by people telling me I was stupid or because I had long hair and listened to metal, I was going to amount to nothing in life. Now I realize that life is what you make of it, and “amounting to something” is best measured in ways other than the ways they meant, although there’s some overlap.

In short, I got used to be who I am. I am now confident in and know my abilities and most of my limitations. They don’t shock me anymore. I have accepted the fact that I can’t fold laundry, can’t figure out a camera, find ballet baffling but really like the big powerful symphonies — and selected death metal, black metal, doom metal, thrash and speed metal.

We are all what we are. We cannot change what we were born to be, and the sooner we accept it and stop struggling against it in some pretense of being God’s own best gift to humanity, the sooner we enjoy ourselves again. The most obvious conditions are clear. Some are more beautiful, some stronger, some smarter, some more in touch with emotions and art.

For any ability, there is a sort of caste system to humanity and probably any other creature of high intelligence:

At the top are the Brahmins. These are the geniuses who invent new things and get us all pointed in new directions. I’m thinking Bathory, Celtic Frost, Burzum, Enslaved, Discharge, Graveland.

Below that are the Kashtriya. This is where the bulk of us who are smart but not super-exceptional are. We are the warriors who take the ideas of the Brahmins and make them reality. I’m thinking Morbid Angel, Deicide, Asphyx, Infester, Incantation, Obituary, Slayer, Dismember, Therion, Belial, Varathron, Gorgoroth, Emperor and most of the good, solid bands you can think of.

One level down are the Vaisya. These are the merchants and aesthetic designers. They know what looks good, or feels good, but they’re not going to put together a system of thought on the level of Kshatriya or Brahmins. You know who goes here? Those who make things accessible to others as an easily-grasped idea. Cannibal Corpse, Mortician, Vader, Pantera, Metallica, and so on.

Underneath that level are the Sudras. These are people who need to be told what to do and when to do it, but without guidance, they collapse into inaction. These people don’t produce bands except tribute bands.

The untouchables would, in my view, be anyone too dumb and distracted by their TV set to appreciate death metal.

It’s odd how this pattern repeats itself in science, art, philosophy, literature and social groups. There’s 1% who lead, 9% who implement that leadership, about 20% who sell crap based on the new direction, and 70% who hang out and do nothing until someone tells them to get back to work, and by the way it’s on the new vision.

I wonder where most of the fanbase today falls in these categories. Worth thinking about.

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