Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Problem With Christian Music

I discovered Life FM when I was fifteen. My Christian journey was starting to cement itself in the Jesus sub-culture; bible-reading, prayer and finally music. I had joined the God squad. It was exciting times - I did the Parachute thing and my brain became a neurological Ipod of worship songs and Christian rock.

Teenage enthusiasm doesn't stay long. The Christian music scene was getting dreary. My vigour for the 'Mumsdollars' and 'Hillsongs' declined as I realised Christian music can actually be quite crap. I started listening to The Rock and sure enough found the same to be true - but this was a different galaxy. The lyrics were raunchy, the emotions were raw and the suffering was real. We say we're to be honest and genuine as Christians. Our music should reflect this, so why are we still paraphrasing King David?

We're missing a crucial opportunity to connect with the world. Sometimes I look at the songs Christian (especially worship) bands write - and I've seen them a thousand times before. They use the same cliches, the same jargon we've whispered to God for thousands of years. Worship is an expression of love to God, but it seems we've limited what worship is allowed to be.

Something that continues to perplex me - is why we don't sing about sex. Ancient Greek writers were into it like swimwear and Songs of Solemn makes no apologies. Surely the most intimate act a person can engage in - created by God for a beautiful purpose deserves to be celebrated in another beautiful form of expression. It doesn't have to be rude, it doesn't have to be explicit. I've seen it done before. Why aren't we getting creative with our lyrics? Why aren't we exploring new and hard territory? I long for the day when Christians create their own Shit Town or Lightning Crashes.


Singing of a woman dying in child birth, her lost dreams, the baby's future. Doesn't that already honour God? Is that not close to His heart? There are so many harsh realities in life, so many things that aren't fair. So why don't we sing? Why does the secular scene do it so much better than us?

Perhaps it's because we try provide resolution when there isn't always. We give hope, saying God will pull through, that He's sovereign. God's truth is comforting, but it shouldn't be the way we tackle everything. Not every situation brings closure, nor should we. Sometimes grief and suffering need to be embraced, our emotions explored and life's problems acknowledged:


The inequity on this planet is overwhelming. In a perfect world there would be no poverty, women wouldn't need to sell their bodies, fathers wouldn't need to steal, orphanages wouldn't need to exist. In a perfect world I would be able to sing about these, but I can't, so I write instead.

The keyword in this article has been 'we'. I use it loosely as I'm not even a musician. Harping on about Christian music fells unfair when there's scarcely a thing I can do about it - but it's not just music. Our lives should reflect this kind of transparency and consideration to life and injustice - showing a people who engage with the crappy times.

I'm being mean - there are great Christian artists out there who already do this. Quite often it's ersatz, but when it's done right; the cadence is irresistible:

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Single Life


Okay, I admit; I'm quite the catch. Any woman would be lucky to have me. Such a reality shouldn't be surprising for a stubble-scrumptious charismatic stallion. After a sentence like that it's going to be hard to explain why I'm still single. Do I not bother? Do I go for the wrong ones? 'Cause it's too difficult? Do I spend too much time in a gym that hardly has any women? Most of those are true but I'm more interested in taunting a greater question - what's wrong with being single?

Should we agree with the Eleanor Rigbys and just say 'it sucks'?

I get a lot of crap for being single. Not for being single itself, but for how long I've been. I had my last (and only) girlfriend at fifteen, and she left me for another man - Australia. Since then everyone's been telling me I should find someone else - that it's silly for such a date-able man to stay single. But I've never been the kind of guy that's needed a relationship. Some people fear it, but I can confidently say I enjoy it (cheeky monkey; rolling your eyes).

Never in my life am I going to have such abundance of time, money...and genuine happiness. I do a lot of things now that I wouldn't have time for with a girlfriend - and that's probably the reason I am still single. Such a lifestyle makes me hesitant to join the relationship parade - but alas I know I must grow up someday and embrace the change.

My desire for intimacy has by no means been squandered. There are times when I'll watch a movie by myself and wish there were a head resting on my shoulder apart from the dog's. I see the attraction in being with someone - having a best friend you can be honest and laugh with. Why else would I workout?

Maybe the time is coming when I should get off my butt and do something, or maybe it isn't - either way I want to enjoy the 'now'.

Therein lies part of the problem - thinking a relationship will improve your life. Not necessarily. I've seen couples who wanted nothing more than to be single. I've seen people break up and wish they never got together in the first place. I've also seen people put all their hopes into finding someone, waiting patiently for a deus ex only to hear crickets. Each reality comes with its own delights and sufferings - the difference is learning to enjoy the one you're in.

Too much goes on in life to worry about where I could be. I know I can't stay single forever, nor is that my plan. Where I am now I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Things haven't turned out how I expected - but they have turned out well. And someday, I'll share it with someone.

Until then I just need to break past the romantic politics, body language and elusiveness. The fun begins.


Friday, September 21, 2012

Arkham Earth

I'll confess, I have a cupboard in my room just for masks. Even I'm impressed by how many I've collected - each one an art form in itself, with its own history and make. I'm never in need. I have them all. I have one I take to the gym, to work, church. I keep one for my family - for every friend. I'm somewhat of an actor.

I recently finished my second playthrough of Batman: Arkham City; a universe of colourful criminals and flawed heroes. A circus of miscreant performers.

Don't know if I'm finally losing it or I'm just getting soft, but I started seeing a real side to the game's characters. All their hurts and sufferings. The unfortunate reasons they're iconic in the first place. Each has their own visage where they (and we) find their identity; a former district attorney obsessed with duality who copes with the cruel misfortunes of life by tossing a coin; a narcissistic riddler who leaves clues of his deadly deeds because he wants attention; a homicidal jester who chose a life of madness and anarchy after enduring one unbearable day, and a playboy billionaire who adopted a dark persona to deal with his sadness and rage at the loss of his parents.        


Perhaps I'm getting too soppy over fictional characters - but I see the same thing in our world. We disguise ourselves and make rash decisions that stem from things we've experienced. We live like thespians, carrying our wardrobes full of masks and expect people to understand where we're coming from - when they're just trying get by themselves.

I'll admit I'm a fairly apathetic man, but occasionally I have my moments of caring. It originates from past hurts and burns. Arguably I use to care too much, but more often that not it felt one-sided, so when I found an excuse not to care I rolled with it. It was refreshing to let people go and relax as I watched the world unwind, not bothering to attend to every immediate need. Stay somewhere too long though and you tire of it. I wanted to care again, to feel love and give love. That's where I find myself now.

I remember one day I was with a group of friends swimming. When I got out one of my mates gave me his hand to help me out. I didn't take it. I wasn't trying to be rude - I wanted to be independent. That came at a price. As I looked up, I could see the rejection in his face. Seems like such a trivial thing. I didn't even need his help, I was just getting out of a pool, but that wasn't the point. It mattered a lot to him, and it matters to me now - if only it did then. 'If only I saw it his way,' I say to myself. Nowadays when someone offers me help, I take it.

Is he?
People often tell me stories of others who've wronged them. I try and imagine what the person on the other side is really saying amidst the jumble of emotions. In all my time (a very long time) I've found most people are just trying to do right. They're not inherently bad - just scarred. Such a call to love and see past peoples' personal attacks and meltdowns is...unrealistic at best. No doubt I'll get frustrated with someone tonight and completely forget what I've written and what situation they're in. But I'm a dreamer, so that's what I'll do.

I suppose in the end, we're trying to tell people we want to be appreciated and accepted. I mean why did I bother to write this article? Was it to genuinely explore the issue or to seek acknowledgment and praise? Probably the latter. What strange ways we have...

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Crossing The Line

Video games are means to many ends. Some play them to escape mundanity, others for the high-flying camaraderie experienced with friends - and some cuss into the microphone as their way of reaching out. I consider games to be something more however; art. Their ability to portray complex messages and themes makes them such a unique and exciting medium. As I've often said, the best stories I've heard haven't been from movies or books, but games. Narratives that make you think beyond the obvious and touch on something deeper.

(Warning: chronic spoilers ensue)


http://www.escapistmagazine.com/videos/view/zero-punctuation/6021-Spec-Ops-The-Line

(For anyone who wants a slightly funnier and less spoiler-filled take on it)




Spec Ops: The Line looks painfully ordinary. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't even give it a second glance. Start playing the game and I doubt you'll change your mind. Your character, Captain Walker, and two colleagues arrive in Dubai to find Colonel Konrad (to be the antagonist) and locate survivors after a giant sandstorm destroyed the city. Get in, get out; that's the mission. In the first few minutes you're shooting bad guys to the beat of machine guns, rock music and American jingoism.

Abnormal things start happening however, and what started as a patriotic party spirals into 'the valley of the shadow of death.'

Spec Ops increasingly gets more mature and starts exploring issues you didn't expect. Especially when you realise you're fighting other Americans. The biggest smack to the face comes when you ambush a large enemy force using a mortar with white phosphorus. You do this from the ethereal and comforting position of an overhead-drone - akin to the AC-130 Gunship section in Call of Duty 4. But where COD lets you go free after your presentation of masculine firepower, Spec Ops shows you the limbless remnants of your deed.

The game trudges you through the scorched expanse of land as you watch the remaining survivors die of heinous burns and blood loss. One of them even mustering the strength to say, 'Why? We were helping.' A few steps further and you discover what you thought were a large group of soldiers on the drone's infrared monitor, but in actuality were civilians huddled together trying to avoid the blasts. Where games like Call of Duty say 'fantasy', Spec Ops says 'reality'.


It's now you discover this isn't a war game; it's satire. The people who made this game are making a show of FPS culture. Keep playing and Captain Walker's actions don't get any less bearable, but he's convinced he's doing the right thing and so marches on (as do you). The moral line becomes blurred, and you're no longer sure if playing the game is an ethical misstep in itself. Everything comes to a head at the end, when you meet Konrad, who in a condescending tone says 'the truth is, you're here because you wanted to feel like something you're not...a hero." He's saying that to you by the way.

I've never felt so pathetic for playing a game before. The fact I had fun playing it at times makes me feel even guiltier. That's the sign of a well-thought-out experience. You have to keep moving forward because you got the game, it should be played and finished, but at the same time I'm being challenged as to my reasons for that. We game out of desire for satisfaction - to be commended for our skill and be in command of someone stands as a shining example of human courage. Spec Ops shows how ludicrous that illusion is. Obviously it is, 'cause we need to keep playing games just to feel likes heroes. The soldiers in World War One were excited about  the conflict - they thought it'd be an adventure. But you could see it in the photos, the trepidation they carried in their faces - it was pandemonium.

No doubt I'll go back to playing shooting games and try to leave this behind. What else can we do? Stop playing? I don't think that's the answer. Rather, go on as we did - respecting the subject matter with a mindfulness that it's just slapstick of the real thing.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

My Debut into the Cosy World of Opinions

For someone who fancies himself a dumb brute - writing a blog is a rather foreign concept. Though alas I was persuaded by my good friend and fellow Greek god, Quin (or Capt Quiggles for the well acquainted). But behind this sexy exterior lies a man of deep thought - dwelling on the important matters of the universe, like mini-golf. So this will be my space to rant not only on the trivial things of life but also the more complex. To kick off my shenanigans, lets explore something that will challenge and help us all better understand the human condition - so here's a game review about space marines.


(I'll assume you've watched the trailer)

Getting right to the point, Binary Domain doesn't look like anything special. Its practically ripped straight from Blade Runner, its a generic third-person shooter and the main characters are built like fridges. Spend a few hours with it however and you'll find something intriguing - you're actually having fun! Why? Well let me tell you.

My first epiphany happened when I noticed the dialogue was quite...alright. The constant banter between characters was genuinely funny sometimes - enough that I anticipated what they had to say next. And then there were the times you could tell the writer just wanted to go home, "anyone still alive? Holler if you're dead." So the writing fluctuates a bit, but heck at least the voice-acting's okay.

There's even a cute little feature where you can turn on your headset and talk to your squad. The game recognises something around 50 phrases, some of which are hilarious. I looked down the list and much to my surprise found the words 'fuck' and 'shit', and like any good christian I decided to indulge in a giggle. The first time I tried the game heard me and the characters promptly told me to calm down, the second time the game seemed to confuse the f-bomb with 'I love you' in the middle of battle and my teammate accused me of being weird. So obviously I gave up on that endeavor pretty quickly.

Speaking of weird, the game implements a trust system. If you make good decisions, speak nicely to your team and perform well in combat then your squad's trust increases (or the other way around). I did my best to keep everyone happy, but the AI does does its best to make the job hard for you. Lay down a base of hot steamy lead and your AI teammates will magnetise towards it - walking right into your bullets, and they have the audacity to complain about it.


I should probably talk about the story (which I really should have done at the beginning). The trailer says most of it - the line between robots and humans is becoming blurred - so shoot robots. The story had a lot of potential to explore issues of prejudice and what defines 'living'. What happens when the robots we live with are so similar to humans we don't know the difference - when they too deal with emotions and experience suffering? Does that mean its okay to mistreat them just because they're nuts 'nd bolts? The game manages to just scratch the surface of such issues, and only at the end!

There's a lot I didn't mention. I could have gone through all the boring stuff, but the major publications have done that for me. I only talked about what interested me, and I needed an excuse for a blog.

I was probably a bit mean to Binary Domain, its really quite competent and the story always takes you through interesting locales - much better than some I've seen. Plus the game has rest points - times when you don't shoot - actual juxtaposition! Take a lesson Call of Duty!