Since
the theme of last
month's column
concerned
confession, and, as
we Catholics have
long been told,
confession is good
for the soul, I
thought I would
continue in this
vein. The first
confession I have
for you today is
that I have been a
long time, and
somewhat closeted,
fan of the 1980's
band Devo. Referred
to as
Alternative/Indie
Rock, American Punk,
American
Underground, Techno
Pop, Electronic
Progressive and
Robotic New Wave,
Devo always seemed a
band hard to define
and difficult to
categorize.
My
dad's
definition of
their music
probably would
have fallen into
the category of
“Turn that shit
down!” And, to be
fair, this was a
rather broad
category for him
in the days of my
youth. The old man
was an aficionado
of western music,
and decried it as
a travesty that
his favorite genre
had, at some point
in the murky past,
been merged with
southern
“hillbilly” music
to form the
country and
western sound that
he looked at (and
listened to) with
a certain disdain.
He considered Marty
Robbins'
“El Paso”
to be the greatest
song ever written
and recorded, and
thought the world
would have been
better off if Buck
Owens
had left the
Bakersfield sound
in Bakersfield and
stayed there with
it. He thought
enough of the
guitar work of Roy
Clark
to tune in to Hee
Haw
every week, and
tolerated the
musical antics of
Grandpa
Jones
and Minnie
Pearl,
not to mention the
aforementioned Mr.
Owens, to do so.
He didn't see what
was so Grand about
the Grand
Ole
Opry,
but he did drag us
all to the
Phillips Gymnasium
at the old Alma
High School to see
Roy Clark when he
came to town. And
I have to admit,
Roy was great and
put on a terrific
show – one that
ranks right up
there with my two
favorite concerts,
which were given
by the legendary Willie
Nelson
and the
incomparable Ray
Charles.
Now
my
dad, in his own
mind at least,
considered himself
to be a man of
eclectic musical
tastes. This was
never more in
evidence than when
Jean and I got
married and he
found himself
conversing with my
father-in-law and
comparing life
experiences. My
father-in-law, who
was a young swing
trombonist in
Chicago during the
big band era,
shared a story of
how he had once
been privileged to
sit in with the Tommy
Dorsey
Orchestra,
and, on another
occasion, had
played with the Glenn
Miller
band. “It really
wasn't so much,”
he insisted with a
false modesty. At
that, the old man
took on a superior
air and replied,
“Well, I'll have
you know that
Lenny Clark and I
once went to
Lansing and saw Borrah
Minevitch
and His
Harmonica
Rascals!”
While my dad's
mock condescension
was purposeful and
aimed successfully
at my amusement,
this is not to
discount the
deeper truth we
both knew, which
was centered in
his sincere
respect and regard
for Mr. Minevitch
and his Rascals as
serious musicians.
He bristled at the
very idea that so
many thought of
them as merely a
novelty act, and
considered their
version of “Lady
of Spain” as
definitive and
superior to the
more heralded
accordion
versions. And, as
he pointed out to
my father-in-law,
Len Clark thought
so too.
My
mother,
on the other hand,
considered herself
to be a lady of
rich musical
tastes which, by
her middle-aged
years, had come to
rest mostly in the
song stylings of
her idol, Jerry
Vale.
On those occasions
when a break was
needed from the
excitement and
emotion of Jerry
Vale, she relaxed
to the more
soothing
instrumental
sounds of The
Billy
Vaughn
Orchestra
and The
Living
Strings,
and played her
album collection
to her great
delight on the
Mediterranean
styled Magnavox
stereo which sat
in the living
room. She found my
dad's less
mainstream musical
tastes something
of an
embarrassment and
often stressed to
us, her children,
how fortunate we
were to have her
more sophisticated
ear for music to
learn from.
As
a child who liked
to do things on
his own and by
himself, I often
went downstairs to
the basement and
played my mother's
old collection of
78's on her
tube-era RCA
Victrola. Now this
older collection
of music was much
more varied and
much more
interesting, and I
found my mom's
later musical
taste to be
degenerated in a
curious way from
the music that she
had enjoyed when
she was younger.
There were the
recordings of
various pop
artists from the
40's, such as Bing
Crosby,
Sinatra,
Vaughn
Monroe
and many others
both male and
female. There
were, of course,
the big bands:
Miller, the
Dorseys
(Tommy
and
Jimmy),
Harry
James,
Artie
Shaw,
and others. And
there was also my
dad's smaller and
more easily
identifiable
collection, which
besides Borrah
Minevitch and His
Harmonica Rascals,
included the
expected western
influences of Gene
Autry,
Roy
Rogers,
and the Sons
of
the Pioneers,
as well as The
Three
Suns,
a pop group from
the 40's who did a
very nice
accordion version
of “Lady of Spain”
that I personally
liked better than
the harmonica
version of the
Rascals. I didn't
tell my dad that
of course. Oh, and
there was also a
representation of
his
favorite big band,
Spike
Jones
and His City
Slickers.
Given
my
musical experience
at home, I was
fortunate to take
two years of vocal
music in high
school and come
under the
influence of
George Robertson,
who proved to be
one of the best
teachers I had at
this or any other
level. Late in the
summer of what was
about to be my
junior year in
high school, my
friend Jim Feil
suggested I sign
up for a choir
tryout. I
protested that I
couldn't sing and
that the choir
class consisted of
mostly girls. His
response was to
tell me that
because the class
ratio was three
girls to every
boy, I didn't
really have to
sing very well to
pass the audition,
and, once in the
class, there were
three girls for
every boy. He
repeated, “Three
girls for every
boy” and just
looked at me over
the top of his
glasses. Suddenly
I caught on and
the blinders fell.
I decided to give
vocal music a try.
Jim was right; I
didn't sing very
well but I did
pass the audition.
And vocal music
proved to be my
favorite area of
study for the next
two years. I had
comedy leads in
two musical plays
and learned to
sing better than I
ever thought I
could. I found out
that a little
sound instruction
can cover a large
lack of talent,
and to this day,
with a little
rehearsing, I can
go down to the
Safety Harbor
Grill on Karaoke
Night and rock the
house. I do a
killer rendition
of “Mack
the
Knife.”
But beyond this,
what I really
learned from Mr.
Robertson was
music
appreciation.
There are not
really good and
bad musical
genres, only those
that we personally
like better than
others, and within
each there is a
wide range of
musical quality.
Learning to
recognize the
higher quality
that transcends
the genre is what
music appreciation
is all about.
Through
high
school I listened
to the music of
the Beatles,
the groups that
did anti-war
protest music, and
those who appeared
at the legendary Woodstock
Festival.
There was, of
course, a great
overlap here. I
followed who
played at the Fillmores,
both
East and West,
and did this as
the social
necessity it was
for any kid going
through his
teenage years in
the late 1960's
and early 70's. I
learned the hard
way that you
didn't want to
tell a returned
Viet Nam vet that
you didn't care
for the Rolling
Stones,
and heard the
stories of how the
Stones' music,
blasted from the PBR's
that patrolled the
Mekong Delta,
“scared 'Charlie'
shitless” and
saved countless
American lives. I
don't know that
this made me
appreciate the
Rolling Stones any
more musically,
but it gave me a
new respect for
what their music –
and music in
general – was
capable of doing.
During
my
college years, my
own taste in music
became more
eclectic and in a
broader sense than
my parents
understood it. I
became acquainted
with those who
studied music at a
far more advanced
level than I had
done in high
school, and began
to listen to what
they did and
learned why they
listened to it.
The respect for
classical music
learned in Mr.
Robertson's class
blossomed into a
deep affection,
and I also
discovered jazz
and blues. I
listened much less
to rock until I
discovered how
powerful a genre
this could really
be when performed
by such
progressive bands
as Jethro
Tull
and Pink
Floyd.
When Jean and I
married, we merged
our record
collections, and
through her I
gained a new
appreciation for
some of the
classic rock I had
missed or
overlooked, like
that of Dave
Mason,
Rick
Wakeman
and especially her
favorite – Janis
Joplin.
As
the
70's drew to a
close, Jean and I
considered
ourselves more
mature married
people, and were
more concerned
with starting a
family than in
socializing with
friends and
listening to
music. My second
confession that I
have for you today
is that by this
time I had become
something of music
snob. I guess you
could call this my
classic period. I
listened to
classical music by
Mozart,
Haydn
and Beethoven
and especially
loved the earlier
Baroque masters
who shaped it,
such as Bach,
Handel
and Vivaldi.
I listened to
classic jazz, such
as the
“new”
Harry James
of the late '50's,
as well as Ella
and the Duke
and the Count,
Brubeck
and Miles
Davis,
Thelonious
Monk
and Dizzy
Gillespie.
I listened to
classic swing,
classic rock and
classic rock 'n
roll and
rockabilly, as
well as classic
country and even
my dad's classic
western music. But
as the 1980's
dawned, the one
type of music I
eschewed was the
contemporary '80's
rock that came
with the changing
times.
Except
for
Devo.
Maybe
the
reason for this
was that Devo
always seemed to
convey the
impression that
they knew their
music was
something of a put
on, and, at the
same time, within
the put on there
was a more deeply
embedded and
serious message.
The band's most
popular
configuration was
comprised of two
sets of brothers,
the Mothersbaughs,
Mark and Bob
(Bob1) and the
Casales, Gerald
and Bob (Bob2),
along with drummer
Alan Myers. The
name and concept
of the band comes
"from their
concept of 'de-evolution'
– the idea that
instead of
continuing to
evolve, mankind
has actually begun
to regress, as
evidenced by the
dysfunction and herd
mentality
of American
society."[1]
De-evolution
seemed to be
represented in my
parents musical
tastes, and it
seemed to be
evident more
generally in the
greater world
around us. This
idea of
de-evolution was
started as a joke
by Gerald Casale
and fellow Kent
State University
art student, Bob
Lewis, but turned
serious when Jeffrey
Miller,
a friend of
Casale's, was one
of four students
killed by National
Guardsmen at Kent
State in the
famous incident
there in 1970.[2]
This was the
impetus for
forming the band
and spreading the
message about
de-evolution – the
social
de-evolution of an
American society
whose children are
shot and killed by
quasi-soldiers on
the campus of a
major university.
Perhaps
another
and lighter way to
look at this idea of
de-evolution is from
an historical and
musical perspective.
Devo is often
recognized as
representing the
“cutting edge” of
musical innovation
in the 1980's, with
a wide ranging
influence on the
development of
popular music,
transcending their
own time and
continuing to
influence music to
this very day. The
same kind of thing
was said of Mozart
and the music he
produced in the
1780's. The very
fact that we can
make this kind of
musical comparison
concerning Mozart's
contribution to
music in the 1780's,
and Devo's to music
in the 1980's, is to
use Devo itself as
proof of the
veracity of the
theory of
de-evolution. I'm
sure the humor in
this isn't lost on
the guys in the
band, and it
shouldn't be lost on
us, either.
Devo's
debut
album, which was
released in 1978,
was titled “Q:
Are
We Not Men? A:
We Are Devo!"
The title refers
to the call and
response chorus in
the song “Jocko
Homo” in which
lead singer Mark
Mothersbaugh calls
out the question,
“Are we not men?”
and the rest of
the band, with
nylon stockings
pulled over their
heads, answers,
“We are Devo!”
This, in turn, is
a reference to a
scene found in Island
of
Lost Souls,
a 1932 film
adaptation of
H.G.
Welles classic
novel from 1896, The
Island
of Dr. Moreau.
In both film and
book, mutants
created by the
erstwhile mad
doctor's failed
experiments in
forced evolution
and eugenics
chant in this
fashion:
“Not
to
go on all-fours;
that is the Law.
Are we not Men?
“Not
to
suck up Drink;
that is the Law.
Are we not Men?
“Not
to
eat Fish or Flesh;
that is the Law.
Are we not Men?
“Not
to
claw the Bark of
Trees; that is the
Law. Are we not
Men?
“Not
to
chase other Men;
that is the Law.
Are we not Men?”[3]
The
song's
original
video
version,
taken from the
short film,
The
Truth
About
De-Evolution,
begins
with
Mark Mothersbaugh,
in his "Booji
Boy”
personna, running
through a parking
lot, up a fire
escape, and into a
building that has
emblazoned upon it
a mural that reads
“Shine on
America.” Once
inside, we learn
that he has come
to meet “General
Boy,”
played
by Mothersbaugh's
father, Robert
Sr..
“Come
in
Booji Boy, you're
late,” says
General Boy. “Have
you got the papers
the China-man gave
you?”
“Here
it
is, Dad!” says
Booji Boy, as he
produces an
envelope from
inside his shirt.
“Is it a
surprise?”
“Yes,
Booji.
In the past this
information has
been suppressed,
but now it can be
told. Every man,
woman and mutant
on this planet
shall know the
truth about
de-evolution.”
“Oh,
Dad!”
exclaims Booji,
“We're all
Devo!”
At
this
point, I must
mention that the
presence of Mr.
Mothersbaugh in
the guise of
General Boy is a
recurring and
subtly humorous
ploy in Devo music
videos. In this
example, the idea
of de-evolution as
a closely held
secret of the
United State
military, which is
about to be
revealed
clandestinely
through papers
garnered from the
mysterious
“China-man,” adds
a touch of
conspiracy theory
wackiness that is
priceless. In
other videos, such
as “Girl
U
Want,”
he is in uniform
and hard hat, and
is observed
operating
equipment behind
the scenes. In the
introduction
to “Beautiful
World,”
he sits in his
study in ascot and
smoking jacket, as
he lectures the
audience in a
deadpan and
tongue-in-cheek
fashion on the
proper dress and
etiquette for a
Devo concert. He
then begins the
video by switching
on a 1960's era
Bell and Howell
8mm home movie
projector just
like the one my
dad, and many
other dads, used
to have. The idea
that Devo is
somehow a front
band and
propaganda tool
for a US
government agenda
concerning “the
truth about
de-evolution”
suggests this
de-evolution has
infected the
politics and
governance of the
nation itself.
Now
this
is humorous stuff
to be sure, but is
it really a joke?
Sixty years ago,
America was
deciding between President
Dwight
David
Eisenhower
and Senator
Adlai
Stevenson II
in an election
that pitted the
former Supreme
Commander
of the Allied
Expeditionary
Forces in
World
War II, and then
Commander in
Chief, against the
era's most
elegant, eloquent
and accomplished
diplomat and
statesman. It's
hard to imagine
how America loses
that election and,
of course, it
didn't. Ike won by
an even bigger
landslide than he
did over Stevenson
four years
earlier. It was
claimed by many at
the time that the
then current
popularity of Elvis
Presley,
and the rise of
Rock 'n Roll, was
a de-evolution in
music from the big
band sound of the
40's, but it is
hard to argue that
de-evolution had
hit the political
arena – at least
not yet. Turn the
clock ahead 60
years and we have
little trouble
making that case
when we have the
perpetually
bombastic, boorish
and inexperienced
Donald
Trump
opposing the
quintessentially
corrupt, arrogant
and inept Hillary
Clinton.
Just how does
America win this
election? What has
brought us to this
turn of events?
Could it be
de-evolution? It's
as good an
explanation as any
I've seen.
Perhaps
an
even better
example of this
phenomenon of
de-evolution is
the one that
should concern us
Catholics and all
Christians the
most, and that is
the spiritual
de-evolution that
is in evidence all
around us. It's no
secret that church
attendance and
participation has
been in a
precipitous free
fall since the
days in which the
nation's choice
was Eisenhower or
Stevenson, and
it's no
coincidence that
this is reflected
in the quality of
candidates, and
the quality of
life, we have in
America and the
world today.
Crimes against
Christian humanity
are escalating
worldwide, and
crimes against our
fellow citizens
continue to
escalate here in
the US regardless
of the lies our
politicians and
government
functionaries tell
us to the
contrary[4].
It
wasn't
that long ago it
would have been
hard to conceive
of an America that
tolerated the
practice of
satanism and the
celebration of the
black
mass
in public and on
public property,
as is happening August
15
in Oklahoma
City.
At that time, the
satanic group Dakhma
of
Angra Mainyu’s
Church
of
Ahriman
will hold just
such a black
mass,
aimed specifically
at blaspheming the
Catholic Faith,
and desecrating
the Blessed Virgin
Mary, at the
city-owned Civic
Center Music Hall.
This is a definite
de-evolution from
the views of our
founding fathers
concerning freedom
of religion, which
was essentially
envisioned as the
right to practice
the Christianity
of one's choice
without government
interference. It
would be
horrifying enough
to them to know
that the voice of
Christians in the
public square is
being stifled in
our day, and
doubly so if they
knew that the
voice of the
devil's worshipers
now rises in its
place, as they
expect a sell out
crowd at the Civic
Center Music Hall
August 15. Our
founders were not
so removed from a
time in which
people were burned
at the stake in
public for this
kind of thing
rather than being
defended
by
the Democrats,
and ignored by
the
Republicans,
as they are today.
And this as the petitions
of
Catholics,
and the wishes of
other Christians
and people of good
will, are ignored.
This is most
certainly
spiritual
de-evolution in
action in the
public square, is
it not?
When
we
examine the
scriptures it
should be humbling
to all of us
pseudo-sophisticated,
21st
century Catholics
to see how
spiritually
de-evolved we have
become since those
halcyon days when
Jesus walked the
earth and the
apostles ruled the
Church. In Luke
9,
the Master sends
out the Twelve
with “...power and
authority over all
demons and to cure
diseases.” In Acts
5
we read, that
“...they even
carried out the
sick into the
streets, and laid
them on beds and
pallets, that as
Peter came by at
least his shadow
might fall on some
of them. The
people also
gathered from the
towns around
Jerusalem,
bringing the sick
and those
afflicted with
unclean spirits,
and they were all
healed.” Today, we
have great
Catholic hospitals
from which the
poorest among us
are excluded, as
they huddle in the
shadow of a
towering edifice
and die from our
neglect. Many of
those with the
price of admission
end up merely
numbered with the
corpses of the
dead who are
hauled away daily
in an endless
parade of hearses,
as we put our
faith in science
and turn away from
God. In the Church
we hear rumors
concerning the
enthronement of
satan in the
Vatican itself,
and see evidence
of demonic
activity run
rampant in a
clergy sexual
abuse scandal that
has more ugly
heads to raise
than the hydra.
And it should not
be lost on us that
in the movies The
Conjuring
and
The
Conjuring
2,
the recurring
theme concerning
demonologists Ed
and
Lorraine
Warren
is that the
Church in the 20th
century had
become so
self-conscious
of it's image in
the world that
it relied upon
these laypeople
to identify true
cases of demon
possession so
they could be
acted upon by an
ever dwindling
number of
exorcists. And
often this means
the Warrens end
up taking the
needed spiritual
cleansing into
their own hands.
Impressive
as
the Warrens are
in this regard,
we should not
discount the
spiritual
de-evolution
present in the
vast majority of
today's laity.
In Luke
10
we read that
“...the Lord
appointed
seventy others,
and sent them on
ahead of him,
two by two, into
every town and
place where he
himself was
about to come.”
Now these 70
souls were not
apostles but
rather your
basic garden
variety
disciples such
as you and I are
supposed to be.
And the result
at the end of
their travels
was to come back
to Jesus and
proclaim, "Lord,
even the demons
are subject to
us in your
name!" And so in
our day the
minions of satan
in the Dakhma of
Angra Mainyu’s
Church of
Ahriman set up
and perform
public black
masses in
Oklahoma City
and we believe
the only
recourse we have
is to petition
the local
government,
which itself
must arguably be
possessed to
allow such a
thing in the
first place. And
perhaps the
saving grace in
this is that
these clownish
minions of satan
in the Church of
Ahriman appear
to be every bit
as de-evolved in
their evil as we
are in our
holiness.
In
the
face of such an
ongoing and
escalating
spiritual
de-evolution, it
becomes easy to
understand why
the Blessed
Mother herself
has, upon so
many occasions,
appeared to
children and the
most innocent of
souls to
proclaim a
coming Great
Chastisement
if we do not
change our ways
and find some
way to turn this
de-evolving
spectacle we
have created
into something
more godly and
positive. And as
these last
warnings fall
upon our deaf
and de-evolved
ears, we should
realize that the
ultimate result
of our spiritual
de-evolution
will be to open
the gates of
heaven and bring
down upon
ourselves the
wrath of the
Lamb as
described in Revelation
19:
“Then
I
saw heaven opened,
and behold, a
white horse! He
who sat upon it is
called Faithful
and True, and in
righteousness he
judges and makes
war.
His
eyes
are like a flame of
fire, and on his
head are many
diadems... From his
mouth issues a sharp
sword with which to
smite the nations,
and he will rule
them with a rod of
iron; he will tread
the wine press of
the fury of the
wrath of God the
Almighty. On his
robe and on his
thigh he has a name
inscribed, King of
kings and Lord of
lords.”
As
we
cower before the
King of kings and
Lord of lords; as
we huddle and
struggle to keep
to our feet as the
multitude calls to
the mountains and
the rocks to fall
on them, it will
be only the
bravest and
boldest among us
who will even have
the courage and
the presence to
stand, stooped and
huddled, as did
the bent and
deformed, subhuman
creatures in the Island
of
Dr. Moreau,
and offer their
words as our last
confession, “Are
we not Men?”
And
the
Lord will, in turn,
look at us with eyes
like a flame of fire
and, pointing the
sharp sword of His
judgment upon us, He
will answer, “You
are Devo!
All
Biblical
quotes from The
Catholic Edition of
the Revised Standard
Version of the
Bible, copyright
1965, 1966 by the
Division of
Christian Education
of the National
Council of the
Churches of Christ
in the United States
of America. Used by
permission. All
rights reserved.
|