The Exploding Crucifixion (a Kind of Exegesis)
What kind of world do we live in where we allow beautiful,innocent girls to be sacrificed at the
altar of poverty and extreme violence?
That is a question that continues to both haunt and drive me. It is at the core of my
humanity.The foundation of my religious faith and the centerpiece of my moral conscience.
It is what fuels my pursuit for artistic truth.
When we sacrifice youth with such crude mechanisms and enter the gallows of human depravity
can we ever then remove this yoke of the sinister?
As tragedy and hope dance on a volcano i see Roger Waters and Brian Eno,i also see Daniel
Lanois and his arsenal of sonic mysterions.They are woven together,seamlessly full of both
pathos and outrage in spite of being housed in the cage of corporate atrophy .You see the
music is too big for a cage or a box,ask Jeremiah, both the bullfrog and the prophet;ask
Hildegard and John Coltrane they will tell you;ask Jesus and Muhammad they will too;ask the
better angel of your own nature she will know as well.
In both silence and noise there is salvation from the tyranny inside,from the imperial powers and
fundamentalist creeds,those death cults that both terrorize and promulgate sadness and grief.
“The unmentionable odor of death offends the September night” so wrote W.H. Auden.”What
huge Imago made such a psychopathic God?The habit forming pain that we suffer again and
Yes,Sisyphus is alive and thriving in Kabul-in Aleppo and Sana’a as well.
However,when you gaze deeper and yet deeper still there is a cohesiveness-a unity-a binding
force-an artful resurrection-a kind of exegesis.
The Crucifix explodes and things are changed and two little Afghan girls become one with the
sky.Their names are Parwana and Khorshid and W. H. Auden again offers supplication,”The
Lights must never go out,the music must always play…Crudeness can never destroy the sacred
in its true essence…We must love one another or die.defenseless under the night our world in
stupor lies;Yet, dotted everywhere,ironic points of light flash out wherever the just
exchange their messages:May I, composed like them of eros and of dust,
beleaguered by the same negation and despair,show an affirming flame.”