The devil. In a bar. In Quebec. With Jesus. Scandal.

It is nearly Bastille Day (France’s independence day)! So I’m honoring the French… kind of.

In my french class a couple years ago, this guy from Québec came in and talked to us about the differences between French Canada and France. Mostly, that means he philosophized about hockey for an hour. He also played us this song, by the group Mes Aieux (My Ancestors).

From what I remember, and from what I understood of his explanation of the song, the lyrics are extremely morally questionable. You see, Québecoise are, for the most part, very religious (Catholic). But when they swear, they use words that also are religious terms. For instance, one of their curse words actually translates to something like, “damned altar!”

This song, “le yâbe est dans la cabane,” is about a face-off between Jesus and the Devil in a bar. It’s très comédique, especially because it uses metaphors and symbolism in words that may correspond to either the religious term, or the swear word. That makes it both very morally questionable, and very difficult to translate. I haven’t found a good translation since the one our gust speaker brought, which I don’t seem to have anymore.

If I remember correctly, it was banned from a few radio stations (or maybe all of them). Cool, huh?

“Yâbe” is the Québecois word for “diable,” which is the French word for “devil.”
“Cabane” means some sort of hut in French, which means some sort of bar in Québecois.

The Devil is in the Bar.
Enjoy.

February Flashes

On John Darnielle and Jesus and humane-ness

I now read Bible verses as if The Mountain Goats/John Darnielle are singing them. It’s not very melodic, but it helps me think lines like “Give us aid against the enemy, for the help of man is worthless. With God we will gain the victory, and he will trample down our enemies” are actually humane. Those make me wonder if God buries his face in his hands after requests like that and says, “OMG… fail.” Then again, I guess Psalms 60 was before Jesus came preaching LOVE, so David probably didn’t know any better. “Oh, it’s God. I’ll just ask him for some stuff, cuz it’s not like he hasn’t done enough already.”

On metaphors

No matter what, people always think metaphors are profoud. Compare some weird, obscure concept to something very real and tangible, and all of a sudden you are a genius. Watch and learn:

“the lace darkness”

“the striped bitterness”

(more later)

On my class

Imagine being in 7th grade and having that 7th grade crush. It’s so intense, and you can’t go 5 minutes without writing his (or her) name on your notebook 8 times in black sharpie. You spend all your time thinking about that person.

Then one day, you learn that you’re going to have a whole class devoted to him. You read every essay he’s ever written for a class, every piece of fanfiction, his diaries, look at every one of his doodles in notebooks.

That’s what my class is like. Worshipping these people, artists and authors of the Romantic Era, these poor people who aren’t here to defend themselves.

Here’s what Dark Romantics means to me: wanting what you can’t have, and loving it–loving being deprived of it. Loving the feeling of misery, loving having something to complain about, even if you don’t actually complain about it.

On Nietzsche

Nietsche uses music to describe his theories almost every time he was one, and it is solely for this reason that I love and respect Nietzsche. It helps me understand his writing– not to the point of being able to paraphrase his work, and possibly not even enough to be able to write about it, but enough for it to make an impression on me, which is what matters.

I love Nietzsche for his music references before it has actually made an impression. I do not love him more for confusing me or anyone else. I respect his work because I am able to adapt it for my life.

On sleep

Where is the human power source? Computers need to be plugged in all the time to keep power all the time… but we need to sleep. Why? Is there anything we can do to exist without that sleep being so necessary?

I think if we were meant to sleep, then the real purpose of sleep should be dreaming. But if we don’t remember out dreams or if we don’t find them meaningful, what is the point of sleep?

What if some other act was as rejuvenating as sleep? What if we could recharge by listening to music? Or reading? Or writing? Why isn’t spiritual rejuvenation the same as physical rejuvenation?

Furthermore, we miss things in life by sleeping.

You never know when you’re going to be influenced by something. That’s why involvement is so important. There’s a chance that you can be influenced by something  at home, especially with the internet, but why take that risk, when your chances of being influenced are exponentially greater when you leave your apartment?

By existing we live,
By living we find meaning.

A Beautiful Friendship

Wavelengths are powerful; sharing wavelengths with someone is even more so. It’s one thing to be in agreement with someone verbally; it’s another thing to share the same thoughts; it’s another thing to share feelings.

I don’t think all of that comes automatically with someone. People may talk about love at first sight, but even though the lusty feeling may be there, the synchronicity takes some work. And it’s not any different with a friendship. In fact, it’s even more difficult to develop mutuality, because you don’t have the initial lust from which to develop common ground. But when you do reach that ultimate mutuality, in any relationship, it’s the best feeling in the world–but it still demands attention and effort.

One of my criteria for having a romantic relationship is that we both have to have a mutual respect. We should share other things mutually as well, but respect is first and foremost for me.

So I often wonder if this isn’t my main problem with Christianity. If I want a relationship with God and/or with Christ, I seem to have this innate desire for it to be mutual, and that’s just not possible. The idea that we owe so much to Christ, who bled and died for our sins, is sort of a deterrent–meaning that we can never “break even” because of our sin nature and all that. But wouldn’t it be great if the phrase “what a friend we have in Jesus” was actually true, and it actually was a friendship?

“What a friend we have in Jesus,/ all our sins and griefs to bear/…/ Can we find a friend so faithful/ who will all our sorrows share?/ Jesus knows our every weakness/…/ Are we weak and heavy-laden,/ Cumbered with a load of care?/ Precious Savior, still our refuge/…/ Thou wilt find a solace there.”

Maybe it is mutual. Maybe Jesus does bear our burdens and we bear his, like friends do. Maybe he does want the best for us, and in a way, we want the best for him– for the ideals he embodied. The biggest difference is that a friendship with Jesus doesn’t involve immediate gratification. While it’s possible to have tons of fun with a best friend, it’s not really possible to have a party with Jesus… unless you dole out peyote as a party favor. But instead, the time when we get to join Jesus is at the “end” of the friendship.

“Soon in glory bright, unclouded,/ There will be no need for prayer./ Rapture, praise, and endless worship/ will be our sweet portion there.”

Or is it the beginning? Perhaps life is a long courtship with Jesus, and Heaven is the real beginning of a beautiful friendship.

[Song: "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," by Joseph M. Scriven.]