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The 2016 election never ended.
It dinged us bad.
Like a fractured car windshield, weve been cracking inch by inch ever since.
Were retreating into our own respective principalities of thought.
Were perusing internet spaces tailored around our specific tastes and buying habits.
Were watching cable-news shows honoring perpendicular ideologies.
Were retreating into our homes.
Some days, keeping up normal routines feels like daring to buffet a rising tide.
The adage about hard times mothering great art is a grisly truism.
Folk and country were borne in part out of the crucible of the Depression.
Civil rights and war overseas stoked the outpouring of soul and psychedelic rock in the 60s.
In 1988, N.W.A.
flipped prideful, celebratory James Brown and Parliament songs into soundtracks for street wars.
The following spring, Chinese students fighting for democracy in Beijings Tiananmen Square used Beethovens Symphony No.
Times get bleak, and art becomes our comfort, our strength, and our defense.
Its stripped but not empty, though, full of gorgeous sonics that light its unrelenting dark.
What would I do / If a white wooden cross meant that Id lost you?
that replicates the morbid internal dialogue we all have when a terrible act is committed in a familiar location.
Crosses is a love song in pallbearers clothes.
The point is that the protagonist is happy, not that hes in danger.
/ Did you think everything would be okay?
Till then, get out there and live.
