Saturday, November 05, 2005
Remember, remember the Fifth of November!
In a 2002 BBC poll, Guy Fawkes comes in at Number 30, in a vote of the 100 Greatest Britons (results can be found with commentary at this Wikipedia page). It seems the Guy is less popular than David Bowie, but moreso than aviator and philanthopist the Baron Cheshire.Parliament, the very institution Mr. Fawkes sought to destroy, has a website replete with children's section commemorating the Gunpoweder Plot on the occasion of it's 400th Anniversary.
Tonight, children and adults in that Fair Isle will light bonfires, burn Guy Fawkes in effigy, eat toffee apples, set off fireworks, and in general have a helluva good time.
All this to remember, nay, celebrate a terrorist? That is of course the very thing furthest from the British public's mind on 5 November, and I wish everyone a rollicking celebration. But it makes me wonder: what holidays might there be 400 years from now?
I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!
Gig Journal
Returned to Little Pleasures last night. While enjoyable, it was a more workman-like gig. No elevated blood pressure, no heavy breathing, no fire. Certainly nothing that approached the out-of-body.
I’ve been contemplating what separates the fiery gigs from the mundane. What factors prohibit or hinder me from having that elevated experience, at any particular time and place. Was it the fact I slept all afternoon? Was it the music I listened to on the way there? Was it my band mates, or their technical difficulties? Was it the small audience, or was it the largely empty room? Was it all the detritus from the rest of my mundane life that I couldn’t shake off?
This gig was also an example of the nature of shared experience. While I felt it was just “o.k.” there were those audience members who were really into it, who did find joy in it. What did they experience that I did not? How can I (or the band as a whole) transmit to the audience something we may not be experiencing ourselves?
Tonight, another gig in another place, but like Little Pleasures a place we have played often. If I can get out of my way, the experiment shall continue…
I’ve been contemplating what separates the fiery gigs from the mundane. What factors prohibit or hinder me from having that elevated experience, at any particular time and place. Was it the fact I slept all afternoon? Was it the music I listened to on the way there? Was it my band mates, or their technical difficulties? Was it the small audience, or was it the largely empty room? Was it all the detritus from the rest of my mundane life that I couldn’t shake off?
This gig was also an example of the nature of shared experience. While I felt it was just “o.k.” there were those audience members who were really into it, who did find joy in it. What did they experience that I did not? How can I (or the band as a whole) transmit to the audience something we may not be experiencing ourselves?
Tonight, another gig in another place, but like Little Pleasures a place we have played often. If I can get out of my way, the experiment shall continue…
