Some boys hate themselves
Spend their lives resenting their fathers
Some girls hate their bodies
Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback
Saying God, make me famous
If you can't, just make it painless
Just make it painless
Assisted suicide
She dreams about dying all the time
She told me she came so close
Filled up the bathtub and put on our first record
God, make me famous
If you can't, just make it painless
Just make it painless
It goes on and on, I don't know what I want
On and on, I don't know if I want it
On and on . . .
Some girls hate themselves
Hide under the covers with sleeping pills
And some girls cut themselves
Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback
Some boys get too much, too much love, too much touch
Some boys starve themselves
Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback
Creature comfort makes it painless
Bury me penniless and nameless
Born in a diamond mine
It's all around you, but you can't see it
Born in a diamond mine
It's all around you, but you can't touch it
Saying God, make me famous
If you can't, just make it painless
Just make it painless
It's not painless
She was a friend of mine, a friend of mine
And we're not nameless, oh
It goes on and on, I don't know what I want
On and on, I don't know if I want it . . .
Well, if you're not sure, better safe than sorry
Creature comfort, make it painless
Creature comfort, make it painless
We're the bones under your feet
The white lie of American prosperity
We wanna dance, but we can't feel the beat
I'm a liar, don't doubt my sincerity
Just make it painless
Creature comfort, make it painless
Na na na na na na na . . .
~ Win Butler et al (for Arcade Fire)
Mine! Mine! Mine! Last week, I wrote a post ("Timothy") about a coal mine. Yesterday, "The Gold" was about a gold mine. And look at today's song . . . wouldn't you know it, there's a diamond mine in there. Would you believe me if I told you that this is all coincidence? I will resist the urge to find a song about a silver mine. "Creature Comfort" is part of Arcade Fire's summer release, Everything Now.
I find this song haunting, yet compelling. Sad, yet necessary. As Christopher Hooten said in his review for Independent, "It's the kind of song where you don't know whether to cry or dance, and that's probably the best kind." I have been troubled for some time now over what I perceive as a sense of ennui, of melancholy, that seems pervasive in our culture. Maybe The Avett Brothers labeled it best: "True Sadness." Sure, we face each day with our best effort, navigating the new normal with determination and faith that it all means something. But look at us. We're a hot mess! Drug-addicted, obese, alcoholic, chain-smoking, religiously fanatical, argumentative, politically divided, guarded, and sometimes, hopeless.
While some of this can be attributed to the current political climate and the ever-widening chasm between the haves and the have-nots, perhaps this sadness has always been a part of the human condition. "Life is suffering," the Buddhists tell us in the first of The Four Noble Truths. In the Second Truth, which addresses the cause of suffering, we are told that desire and ignorance are the villains. On and on, I don't know what I want / On and on, I don't know if I want it. And now we find ourselves in the grip of the holiday craziness, which basically tells us to "Buy! Buy! Buy!" Feed the desire and see what happiness can be obtained! And after the gifts are opened, the remnants of disposable paper and ribbons piled up on the floor, we might feel as empty as before we began the ritual. Do I sound like a Grinch? Well, Dr. Seuss tried to warn us of something! Did we listen?
But the song is much darker than that, isn't it? I am particularly disturbed by the references to our obsession with body image. Some girls hate their bodies / Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback. I can still remember thinking that I was not lovable as a teenager, given that I wore glasses, had knobby knees and big feet. The benefit of aging is that one can look back on these things and realize how foolish that thinking was. But nothing seems to be able to convince our youth that there is no one manifestation of beauty. We've been fed so many lies, the truth got lost.
It's not painless. Life, that is. Sometimes it seems that there is more pain than joy, and that may be true. But the Duality of Opposites tells us that we cannot know joy unless we have known pain. May I humbly suggest that we all look for joy in the small places, not the department stores. Be mindful, be present, tell the stories, laugh at the memories, hold hands, say "I love you," walk in the woods, gaze at the stars, make up a poem, leave a note, practice winking, clap your hands, offer the peace sign, open your arms. None of that will cost you a dime.
Na na na na na na na . . .
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