Thursday, September 15, 2005

anything but 4/4

Strange evil. It's not more or less, better or worse, than your everyday, garden-variety evil. Just different. Stranger. It's not a knife in the back. It's not the kicking of a stray cat. It's not a balding middle-aged man driving his Porsche with the top down on a cool, cloudy day. No, those types are evil are not so strange.

Strange evil is your assumed adversary throwing a public tantrum, spilling her guts - one metric ton of empty criticism. Pointless passion: embarrassing for all. Is there a way to verbally attack the host of a party without ruining the night for everyone? Yes - it's taking the host aside and ruining his night, and his alone. It's called tact - something she hasn't figured out yet. "You," she screams, "say too much without thinking - and too many idiots listen!" By this time, a hush has fallen over the room. Your last gulp of gin and tonic is highly audible. "Did I invite you here?" you ask, calmly.

Strange evil is your assumed adversary keeping tabs on you. Driving by your house in the thick of the night. Telephone calls ending before hello. She wants desperately to know if her tirade made an impact. She not-so-subtly brings up your name amongst mutual friends. "No," they say, "he is as he was. And prolific these days, too. He's a good man - you just have to know how to know him." It's not certain which part of this she takes issue with, but it steams her all the more.

Strange evil. You can try to make sense of it, but it's like making sense of the senseless. You'll look within, and come up with a dozen probable excuses for her behaviour. Common feelings like jealousy, resentment, and envy come easily to mind. But could that be all? Could that be all it takes to make one girl waste her precious time with an idiot and his idiot followers? "Look around you!" she screams. "There's greater truth out there, but you can't see it for your ego!" Different perspective. The whole episode is put out of mind with a shrug and a laugh, a fresh gin and tonic, and a new record spinning.

The crazy acid jazz trumpet wails, and mania falls away to a laid back groove with snare fills. A percussive sweep leads into a breakdown, and the triplet melody of a guitar solo. Following the rim shots clicking with every other beat, you're tapping your fingers. She won't be missed - there will always be a stranger evil out there.

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