What can one say about Jimmy Page, that has not be said more eloquently by another. I have the answer. There are so many great solos by Page that one is hard pressed to pick one to post. Therefore, I will post the one best known to the casual listener. Young Jimmy...Mystical Jimmy...Vintage Jimmy. Jimmy works his voodoo that hedo on the double necked Hammer of the Gods. O, and as for the answer to that question? It comes from a man I've known most of my life. I will not reveal his Christian name here, but he is well known in the blogosphere as Antony. This quote was left for me as a voice mail this very day. When speaking of the man's virtuosity, he said

"He takes the instrument out a whole new asshole!"

I have a firm belief that some day Antony will be an author of some note. If I am ever asked to pen the forward to one of his pieces, I will work in this quote, even if it's for a book on Christendom in the medieval world.

Shakespeare and Brando

I saw this version of Julius Caesar as a child, and was deeply moved. It was my first exposure to both Shakespeare, and to Brando. I've loved them both ever since.

Heavy Duty History

Like sledge hammers held in either fist, Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin set the Standard for what would come to be known as Heavy Metal. Before them there were none, but in their wake have come legends, who have built an intire musical genre on their rock solid foundation. As you will see in these two fantastic clips, there is always an argument over what is, and what is not Metal. Some of the comments in these pieces I agree with, some I do not. After all, I too am sure that I know exactly what is, and what is not Metal. For my money, all '80s "Hair" bands need to check their Heavy Metal Union cards at the door. As a matter of fact, if you're into that whole scene, you may as well not read further, as it's probably to late to save you. However, for those of you without every Winger, and Cinderella, release in your collection, please enjoy. Whether you prefer the beautiful juxtaposition of Jimmy Page's interracial guitar work, against the mayhem of John Bonham's drums, or the absolute onslaught of down-tuned Evil that is Sabbath (as I do), you're in for a treat. Throw up your horns Metal heads, I give you the birth of the Beast.

-Rock

Negative Creativity

Strife, conflict and angst, Why is it that so much of the worlds great art is produced by these negatives? I don't understand why it is, it just seams to be. There have been many happy artists, but my favorites all have a ting of melancholy, or a story of woe. Artistic expression may be a direct gift from God, to help us deal with life's pain. For your consideration, I offer Saint Bartholomew, from Michelangelo's Last Judgment. Note how the Saint displays the skin carved from him in martyrdom, and holds high, the instrument of his torture. It is believed that what Saint Bartholomew holds in his left hand bares the face of Michelangelo,,,so very Dark and so very beautiful.

-S

Lead Me, O Wise Member Of The Ruling Class

I saw this interview with Gore Vidal on a friend's blog and could not help but rant a bit. It's always a good thing to to be forced to think. I must say however, that Mr. Vidal is far to intelligent to spout impossibilities, such as two presidential elections being stolen. If you have a conspiracy as large as national election fraud, the sheer number of people involved would make it impossible to keep under raps. It simply did not happen that way. I'm not an apologist for Mr. Bush, I'm just stating a fact. A conspiracy of that size, could not be kept secret. Secondly,,,you are part of the ruling class Mr. Vidal. Stop making statements like "I've been around the ruling class all my life", it comes off as disingenuous. I do agree with much of what he says about The President. I am not at all pleased by the way the mud was slung during the last presidential election. However, it's an ugly truth of politics, and it's nothing new (Read up on Jefferson and Adams). both men are of sub par presidential material. Both less than honest, but it's what we as voter gave ourselves to work with. By the way, am I to believe John Kerry's account of his tour of duty in Vietnam, while disregarding the fact that only three of the twenty three swift boat commanders who served with him gave their support to his candidacy, twelve calling him unfit? Mr. Kerry is part of "The Ruling Class", so maybe his voice is more important than those he served with. George W. Bush took the cowards way out, and John Kerry blew smoke up America's ass. That's what we get! Those are the choices we left ourselves with. In every election there are so-called outsiders, but they are always crushed by the Conservative, masking himself as a Centrist, and the Liberal doing the same thing. "If I were an average voter in the United States, I wouldn't know who was telling the truth." I am the average voter Mr. Vidal, and I'm offended. In speaking of John Stewart's satirizing of the news as "building a better mouse trap", you show a touch of idiocy. Stop selling bullshit, we're all full up here. O well, I guess your let-them-eat-cake attitude goes over well at tea parties.

-Sham

Yesternight

I found something I wrote several years ago, at a low moment in my life. Life has changed for me, but I remember this awakening and I remember quite well, sitting to write it.:

Last night was glorious. The stars danced and sparkled, as if the eyes of a thousand angels watch me from God's Heaven.

Nocturnal creatures played a melody so beautiful, that even David would weep at the prospect of creating such perfection. My days have brought only sorrow of late, but that moment, that place, that song brought peace. In awe I pondered the moment. I thought, it's all for me and me alone, this place, this song.

I stood silent, not wanting to disturb the flow. It was as if by moving, I might stop the gentile wind. The pines would stop they're swaying, the creatures no longer sing, but slowly the truth crept in.

I realized that should I leave this place, the song would still go on, my footsteps only a momentary distraction. The cricket would still chirp, the frog still croak and the breeze still whisper to the trees. For what is it to the wind if I am here or there, or live, or die, or were never born?

And so I quietly left this little paradise a bit wiser, a bit morose, and daybreak returned my sorrow. Tonight shall not be so glorious.

-Rock

One Of Three

In my youth, there were three great men, who shaped my views on everything from my own Christianity, to fidelity, to politics. This entry is about one of them, Keith Green. Keith Green was more than an artist to me. Between the ages of 16 and 19, I don't know if I listened to any pastor or evangelist or professor, more than I did Keith. That's an amazing thing for me to grasp, given that during large portion of this time, I was a seminary student, and had already embarked on my own ministerial journey. A journey that would end abruptly, just as I was about to attain my highest goals,,,but that's a story for another day. I was in those days, a connoisseur of great teaching, and had been from the cradle. I would seek out men and women who had something of substance (in my opinion), to say. I especially was drawn to great speakers. I loved preachers, who could hold a congregation on the edges of there seats, for a full hour at a time. Being raised in the Pentecostal tradition, I was use to hellfire and brimstone rants, but never had much use for them. I was a kid who wanted to hear a great sermon. I drank great oratory, like a fine from a skin. This was the result of growing up with a great preacher. My late Father, was number one of the three men heretofore mentioned, He also is a subject I'll not go deeply into here, as he would surely become the focus of the article. Suffice to say, he was my favorite preacher. The first time I remember hearing Keith Green was in the home of two friends of my youth, they were brothers. One would someday replace the third man on my list, as pastor of the church I attended. The second was his younger brother. He would one day stand as Best Man for me. They had a brand new copy of the album, No Compromise. I remember just weeping as I listened to the album, and setting the needle back over and over again, on a song titled, Make My Life A Prayer To You. As I wept, I prayed for God's forgiveness. Though I had been a Christian for some time. The artist was challenging me as I had never been before. I felt like I was not living by any sort of standard. I felt I needed to wake up. I needed to stop as Keith put it, "sleeping in the light".From that day forward, Keith has always been with me. I found out a couple of years later that we had some major differences in our theological mindset, and because of the hardheadedness of my youth, and a overriding sense that I was right about everything, I put Keith on the sidelines for a while, but Keith's main message of Christ's love, forgiveness and commandment to service. never left me. Now, the better part of thirty years later, I never go to long without hearing Keith in my head. Our differences no longer matter to me. My love of Christ has grown through the years, but my relationship with the Church, as I knew it in my youth, is all but dead. What remains from those years, are the lessons, learned from those three men. A loving Father, a no nonsense Pastor, and an artist. What prompted me to write this? I saw a video of Keith on line. I sat and watched, and listened, and after all these years, I cried. I never cry anymore, it's not who I've become. That guy died with his ministry. I'm no longer a "foolish dreamer trying to build a highway to the sky",,,or so I thought. Thanks for challenging me again Keith. I still love you Brother.