Beyond Belief
Can a song be meaningful to you even when your interpretation is completely different to the original intent?
I was sorting my MP3 collection and I came across a track that I used to listen to on cassette tape in my youth. It's 1980s Christian keyboard glam rock, and if that's not cheesy enough, the only copy I could could find on the internet is ripped at 64 kbit, which sounds a lot worse than the cassette I used to have.
And yet...
I searched out a copy because it was - and still is - a very hopeful and inspirational song. I don't know if it would be so good if I heard it for the first time right now, but it inspired me at age 15 and I still get that feeling.
And yet, now I listen to it, feeling inspired, while looking at the very sexy nude comission of my furry character that hangs on my wall: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11817312/
My beliefs have completely changed, and more to the point, I've realised that it's pointless pretending to "believe" in something when you don't. My issue with "faith" is this: belief is not a choice. You believe something, or you don't.
But the chorus of the song is interesting: "There's a higher place to go... Beyond Belief." I always wondered what (in a Christian faith sense) that meant. Maybe they meant actions, not just believing? Maybe they meant reaching some higher plain of faith beyond mere "belief"? In any case, the line takes on new and rather ironic meaning for me now: "beyond belief" is the place where you finally give up on pretending to belive in things.
Instead, in the place beyond belief, I discovered a new religion of a sort: The belief in truth, whatever that might actually be. It's also a belief in the interconnectedness of all things from the big bang onwards, to the immense and awesome universe within which we find ourselves (the New-Agers were right all along, dammit). This is not ancient immutable knowledge passed down to us on stone tablets. This is a story that unfolds around us, and the fundamental knowledge is to know that we don't know much; the second being that we can learn. That we should learn.
So the character depicted on my wall - bisexual, uninhibited, naked, proud and not even human - would have horrified the singer in the song I'm listening to, and yet the feeling of inspiration and hope remains the same. The story goes on.
I was sorting my MP3 collection and I came across a track that I used to listen to on cassette tape in my youth. It's 1980s Christian keyboard glam rock, and if that's not cheesy enough, the only copy I could could find on the internet is ripped at 64 kbit, which sounds a lot worse than the cassette I used to have.
And yet...
I searched out a copy because it was - and still is - a very hopeful and inspirational song. I don't know if it would be so good if I heard it for the first time right now, but it inspired me at age 15 and I still get that feeling.
And yet, now I listen to it, feeling inspired, while looking at the very sexy nude comission of my furry character that hangs on my wall: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11817312/
My beliefs have completely changed, and more to the point, I've realised that it's pointless pretending to "believe" in something when you don't. My issue with "faith" is this: belief is not a choice. You believe something, or you don't.
But the chorus of the song is interesting: "There's a higher place to go... Beyond Belief." I always wondered what (in a Christian faith sense) that meant. Maybe they meant actions, not just believing? Maybe they meant reaching some higher plain of faith beyond mere "belief"? In any case, the line takes on new and rather ironic meaning for me now: "beyond belief" is the place where you finally give up on pretending to belive in things.
Instead, in the place beyond belief, I discovered a new religion of a sort: The belief in truth, whatever that might actually be. It's also a belief in the interconnectedness of all things from the big bang onwards, to the immense and awesome universe within which we find ourselves (the New-Agers were right all along, dammit). This is not ancient immutable knowledge passed down to us on stone tablets. This is a story that unfolds around us, and the fundamental knowledge is to know that we don't know much; the second being that we can learn. That we should learn.
So the character depicted on my wall - bisexual, uninhibited, naked, proud and not even human - would have horrified the singer in the song I'm listening to, and yet the feeling of inspiration and hope remains the same. The story goes on.