In a Church service this past Sunday I have heard something that challenges what I’ve previously written in my last blog post about ‘The Unmoved Mover’. The pastor said that “God doesn’t tempt,” and immediately I remembered the line I wrote about God giving us “incorrect” thoughts and feeling to move us towards what is true. I still stand by everything else that I’ve said, but I urge you not to give into what I’ve said there. I’ve made the existence of elusions seem simpler then they really are, and I’ve ignored the fact that people get deceive by subjectivism, and that subjectivism comes from the devil. But on the other hand, the devil can never act outside of God’s control. This is a dynamic that I can hardly begin to wrap my mind around, so that’s why I’ve written this part too simply and lazily.
I am saying this to let you know that I am not scared of the mistake that I’ve made. In fact, I’m going to leave this mistake in my post, and discerning people who understand the complexities of human transformation will pick up on this and filter it out in their minds. This blog is being written by a millennial who still has three quarters of her life experience ahead of her, so don’t expect a high level of objective wisdom here. I’m just trying to figure these things out like you are. I can deceive you without knowing that I am, as can anyone else who is human.
Why does it take years, and decades to become comfortable making mistakes, and admitting that we’ve made them? Is it because of the way in which society is structured, or is it part of human nature? In a conversation I’ve had on this blog I have discussed the necessity of forgiveness. I believe that whenever we trust that we’re going to be forgiven any fear that we’ve previously had of confession melts away, and after making mistakes we can painlessly grow beyond them. We need to build more environments that allow this kind of transformation to happen–it’s amazing how people can grow towards the truth in an environment where the desire to give, and receive forgiveness is evident.
Here is a question to think about: Do we exercise free will in our thoughts and feelings, or are we only free in our actions?
I’ve provided a link to a website about “The Unmoved Mover” below this paragraph. Although I believe that the author stating that “Time has always existed” is a little too much of a stretch, he explains Aristotle’s theory of the Unmoved Mover in a way that can prevent our brains from wandering off. This is good, because our minds can wander easily while trying to wrap them around all of this.
The article says, “We cannot say that fire or air move upwards by their own agency, that is to say that fire and air did not decide to travel upwards…” our thoughts, feelings, inspirations, and even our current beliefs don’t seem to move from our own agencies, but they do seem to move, and transform just like these elements. But in-turn, our actions can affect our thoughts and feelings. For example, if you ate the last piece of cranberry upside-down cake, and then learned that your friend was saving it for later because he or she hasn’t had any yet, you’d probably feel bad. You didn’t choose to feel bad, this feeling just came from outside of your own will. You could have chosen, however, to ask your friend if he or she has had any cake yet. If you did ask, and refrained from eating the cake, you would have been exercising free will just like when you chose to eat it.
So to answer my question from the beginning, it seems like we are free in our own actions to make decisions, but our thoughts are as much from our own free will as breathing, and our feelings are as self-controlled as our heartbeat. I believe that these things come from a living unmoved mover who gives us incorrect thoughts and feelings to move us towards what is correct throughout our lives. Logically we’re puzzled by why He would intentionally give us false thoughts and feelings and won’t just make them prophetically align with the truth all the time so that nothing ever goes wrong, but He doesn’t—that would be boring. What would a story be like without conflicts and character growth? You’ve guessed it; boring. Who likes coffee with too much sugar and not enough bitterness? I don’t. In this life too much sugar can make us feel sick, and bitterness helps us to appreciate sweetness even more.
I’m going to leave you with this post for now until the new year. I wanted to end 2018 off with these thoughts because my plan is to talk more about Christianity next year, and the ‘Unmoved Mover’ theory seems to work as a great bridge between philosophy, and theology. This year I have noticed how open-minded people can be. A few people have taken my writing into consideration while being justly critical at the same time. I believe that constructive criticism is a sign that people care because they want to help me to see different perspectives. Nobody was ever dismissive of me just because they disagreed. I have tested the waters of the online community and have determined that people are strong enough to handle what’s coming next. It’s not likely to go well with the kind of people who don’t question their own thoughts and feelings, but those who do will hopefully gain access to new intellectual terrain that’s yet to be explored.
I wish you all a merry Christmas, and happy 2019. 🙂
One musical that has resonated with me for many years is Wicked. Within recent years I have formed my motto ‘intentions matter more than words’, and even to this day the story of this musical stands up to this belief. I was just listening to the song ‘No Good Deed’. In this song Elphaba is trying to use her words to make things better—her words have a physical impact because she is summoning a spell, and that makes things especially dangerous. She starts off by lamenting about how her good intentions don’t lead to good results, and then it gets into deeper levels of philosophy as she begins to wonder if her intentions were ever truly good. Whenever this question is used right, it can help us to adjust our own intentions towards others. But in this song, she gives up. She probably gave up on herself because everyone else gave up on her without questioning their intentions towards her.
The story, and the lyrics in the music of Wicked come together to tell us the story. Through this song we are challenged to think about how the cycle of judgement works. This whole musical also shows us why, as humans, we were never meant to be too powerful because we don’t always know what is good—things will always go wrong if we had the power to control everything around us. It also teaches us not to take other people’s words or actions too seriously or personally because that’s what moves the cycle of judgement, and fosters the delusion of self-righteousness. Did the writers know that they were spreading these messages? I don’t know. Just like how Elphaba was questioning her own intentions, the writers probably didn’t know about some of the true messages they were spreading.
I might as well mention the other musical that stars Idina Menzel: Frozen. This musical movie seems to take a lot of inspiration from Wicked. People, and maybe even the writers for this movie branded it as ‘feminist’, and people use this label to either love it, or hate it. Although Jordan Peterson (my favourite thinker of our time) probably wouldn’t like what I’m about to say, I do not regard this movie as a feminist one. In fact, when I first saw this movie I was not fully aware of this kind of agenda. It surprised me to hear people brand a movie with a label that had the three letters ‘ism’ at the end of it as if it was no big deal, but that doesn’t surprise me anymore–It just creeps me out a little. I don’t want art to be marked with an ism. Isms limit the way we look at things.
This is what I took away from Frozen the first time I saw it: Just like everyone else in the theater, I was captivated by the song ‘Let It Go’. Although this song is good, it does have statements about freedom from rules. I’m not going to deny that this is a dangerous message, but ‘Let It Go’ plays in the middle of the show. That message is discredited by the end when Elsa learns that expressing herself to that extent has been hurting the city with an eternal winter. The message of the story itself overpowers the lyrics in the song.
By the end of the movie, the message about freedom from rules turns into a message of familial love. This was valuable to me at the time I first saw this in my early twenties. Around this time, I clung to my family a lot because I couldn’t understand the outside world. I used to believe that I was uncapable of loving others outside of my own family because of my challenges, and I was only capable of liking other people. Although this belief has been fading away as of recently, I believe that this stemmed from recognizing the limits of my own maturity in an unconscious way. Frozen seemed to be about the journey towards agape love (sacrificial love) that needs to happen before you can genuinely love people from outside or yourself, and outside of your own circle.
I could write about many more musicals such as The Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, or My Fair Lady, but I have already written too much.
Stories deserve just as much care as music, and music deserves just as much care as stories. If you take away the goodness of a story, you are left without a foundation. If you take away the goodness of music, you discredit the heart of a story weather it’s man-made, or your own story.
This is the end of the series ‘Musicals, and The Importance of a Good Story’. I hope that you enjoyed it!
How often have you seen musicals, or the idea of musical theater being portrayed in a high school setting?
Let’s see… there’s High School Musical, Glee, the two musicals that are named after hair products, Fame, can you think of any more?
This would be okay if we weren’t already steeped with the romanticisation of high school from the time we were little kids. I don’t know why that’s been happening because high school never necessarily seemed like an adventurous time. During this time, the grand bulk of our waking life consisted of trying to keep up with school work, didn’t it? I never really liked this trope from the time I was a little kid passively watching the Olsen twins because my sister and friends liked them (I enjoyed them for a little while, but that enjoyment faded quickly).
Whenever I’ve witnessed this trope, something often felt empty about it, but I was never exactly sure what it was. Maybe it’s because the ages of these characters, and the setting makes for simple stories—the writers must think that simple young minds, plus a simple setting, equals a simple solution to a problem. Did the writers trust children and teens to negotiate between right and wrong in a heartfelt way so that they could gain real respect from themselves and others, and real character? I’m not going to assume that they didn’t. However, often the issues presented in these stories seem to be too extreme or shallow to be dealt with in the simple, non-philosophical ways that they are handled. While some people are scared of philosophy in a story, I’m scared of the lack of it as characters move through life faster than their maturity has taken them so far. I can’t make sense of this no matter how I look at it.
Let’s get back on track. If the musicals (and television show) listed above were made without being musicals (meaning that the only time characters were singing was when they were performing), what would they be like? Glee would probably look like the typical high school sitcom for older teens, High School Musical would probably look like one of Disney’s live action television shows about dating, and Maybe Hair Spray would be okay, but Grease and Fame would seem a little tired. Is that just me? Why stick to this trope if it’s just a simple platform to paste music onto?
Tomorrow, I’m going to talk about some musicals that I believe have good stories. It will be the very last post in this series.
I understand that my previous statements are related to opinions about a musical that I have never seen, so excessive tragedy might not even be as big of an issue as I thought it was. However, I have a hunch that excessive comedy may, in fact, be truly serious.
Are you familiar with the musical Mama Mia? If you have seen it, you probably either love it, or you’re thinking… meh, the music’s good.
I’ve recently seen the sequel. While it is a little less risque than the previous movie, whenever the story jumped to the past, I never knew what was happening because the daughter and mother at the same age looked the same. The mother died, but I never knew why, or how. We, the audience, were looking back in time to the mother’s carefree dating life where she was making bad decisions. But this wasn’t what we were supposed to think about, because the characters were singing and dancing to Abba music. Abba music is good, but would the music have held up better with… a different story, or maybe no story at all? Because it sure seemed like the music was telling us how to feel about unknowns–just dance them away as if they don’t matter.
The first movie was worse at doing that. Do you remember what happened after the mother met the three plausible fathers of her daughter? Her friends told her through song that she was “The Dancing Queen!”
Something that many people, including myself, have been wondering about is the possibility that laugh tracks can be used to tell us what to find funny or light-hearted. If laugh tracks can tell us how to feel, can music do the same thing? Music provides many more emotions than the sound of laughter. Maybe it can tell us what’s cute and light-hearted, what’s comforting, or what is any of these happy feelings before our gut instincts have a chance to kick in.
Tomorrow I’m going to be discussing the use of the high school trope for musicals, and why I believe that it’s used too often.
Back in high school, my musical theater friends and I have practiced medleys and songs from many different musicals, including plenty that I have never heard about before aside from brief tellings of them by our choir director. I remember she was hesitant about telling us about some of the dark themes such as the one for Miss Saigon—it was about poverty and prostitution, but she loved the song “Sun and Moon”—this is, in fact, a beautifully written song, but I know that I could never watch this musical. It seems to be all about hopelessness, and looking for dignity in a world and era that didn’t believe that dignity existed. Sometimes darkness is needed to empathise with the audience, but too much of it can make it hard to find the way towards the light, or it can keep the personality of the main characters from being known. So besides the fact that it was a romantic song, and at the time I was stuck in a stage of finding anything romance-related mushy for maturity reasons, the story behind this song made it hard for me to connect to it. Yes, I’m saying this, and I recently enjoyed reading the story 1984 which is also brutally dark. Please forgive my cognitive dissonance.
All in all, this issue begs a question at the back of my mind: Is it okay to deal with exceptionally serious issues in plays with singing? If it is okay, should a way towards goodness and dignity be provided through the cause-and-effect process of a story? Maybe. Maybe Miss Saigon does exercise this process, but I might never know because I learned about that one theme, so I never gave it a chance. Maybe it has so many more themes than the one I know about. Come to think of it, the reason I enjoyed the book 1984 was because Winston was fighting to keep his feet on the ground by using this exact same, objective process of cause and effect that we see in stories, and all around us. But on the other hand, I do NOT want to see a 1984 musical… or would I?… Nah! Most likely not. However, there is also ‘Les Misérables’. This is a dark musical, but I think that it has managed to reach the light sometimes.
When I was younger, I was part of the musical theater community in high school. A number of the students including my sister cliqued into it, while the rest of us loved music, singing, and dancing, but never regarded the act of performing as something that defined our personalities and interests. Don’t get me wrong–everyone there was an individual, but there was a definite split between those of us who can love any musical as long as the music was good (aka the Glee fans), and those of us who couldn’t share the same interests even if we tried to. Even so, it was a very nice group of people.
I will try to explain the reasons why I feel the way I do about musicals. It might have something to do with excessive levels of comedy and tragedy being amplified by specific styles of music. Maybe music can tell us how to feel about a story rather than let the story flow into the emotions itself before the music locks us into it. It’s possible that when the story isn’t regarded as important, music can be used as a crutch to try to hold up an unchallenging story. I have no idea how often music is being used like this, but I believe that I have seen this happen. I will also discuss how good music can be used to allow clichés to flourish. In this case, I’m going to talk about the high school trope—my personal pet peeve.
I’m going to discuss this subject through a series of posts. In the next four blog posts starting tomorrow, I’m probably going to say things that you don’t agree with. I’m going to state my own opinions that might change in the future; however, through these posts, I want to encourage you to never let a weak story pass you by just because the music that went with it was good. A good story can help us to learn how to socialize in an honest, and forgiving way that helps us to know the truth, and keeps us from being stuck with our pride, shame, or our own opinions. Let’s not lose our capacity to move beyond ourselves—we are strong enough to handle tales that go against the grain of our limited perspectives, and that show us something we have never seen before. We have to be because this kind of strength shapes our own intentions towards others, and helps us to form relationships in true humility. In a world that seems to be in the process of swapping humility for pride and shame, moving beyond ourselves has become deeply crucial now.
The first subject that I’m going to be discussing is excessive tragedy. It will be up on this blog tomorrow.