Monday, June 13, 2011

My Chemical Romance: Danger Days

My Chemical Romance did "Danger Days" back in November of 2010 and you can read the wikipedia if you care about boring bio/fact bullshit. For me, music exists in a vacuum and it doesn't matter what the artists thought when they were making it; even idiots can make exceptional music. If it says something to you, it's great music. Context is vital in artistic appreciation, but I suppose it's the listener's prerogative as to how much context is enough. 

Howevercomma it's hard for me to just say "Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)" was good or even to explain why without projecting quite a bit. Disregarding the fact that I'm a bit of a prolific blogger and that seems like an arbitrary place to put a line for personal space, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to--whenever I say that My Chemical Romance's "Danger Days: True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys" is a good CD and worth buying--look it up on Wikipedia, listen to a few tracks on YouTube to see if it's right for you, and decide whether or not you want to swing by iTunes and pick it up. You live in the future and I'm not even bothering to link that stuff because it's basic interwebsing.

What I'll give you instead is a second-draft poem I wrote over two days that encapsulates most of the themes from "Danger Days" that struck a chord with me:
And when we went to other stars,
we looked back
as our calm, yellow sun shone on behind us.

We found dead stars without end,
bright enough, but barren
with pounding heat
on small, brave crafts
how foolish we were.

We found old stars, reddened with age,
fattened with their charges.
Had they been like us?

Some were small and fast
and made of tablespoons of mountains
and denser still with data for our physicists.

Some pulsed light in denial,
shooting a song of radiation everywhere
that only we could hear.

Others were shriveled up into
an event horizon of rage,
denying if they had ever nourished kin for us.

We found dead stars, middle aged,
bright enough, but barren
with exposed spheres displayed like an open threat
under confident crafts
how foolish we were.

As we moved forward, heedless,
we sawl them born and beginning to spread their
light arms across worlds we named like newborn
babes and left kind, encouraging words for
when they came of age.

We saw their adolescents coddle life,
and then with a finger of their essence,
expunge it
and begin again.

We saw life stumble off of worlds,
messy, ignorant, and most like us, moving forward.

Then we found stars with names;
"Kerreyel," "Bredeline," and "Fane"
and we died, on the margins of a galaxy,
under other stars.

And for each of those, we found thousands of dead stars,
bright enough, but barren,
with their banal geometry, their rocks, and radiation
surrounding familiar crafts
how foolish we were.

And when we went to other stars,
infinite, unknowable, uncaring,
we looked back briefly,
white-knuckled still,
as calm, familiar heavens shone on behind us.
But also, foolish life.

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