The world is a Truly1 frightening place.
You will die.
One way to learn about death is to watch Six Feet Under, which is one of the best television programs of all time.
If you’re not familiar with the show, please stop reading now—go watch the series in its entirety and come back and read this short essay. Actually, first, read this essay and watch the music video and then go watch Six Feet Under. I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but somebody must and that person is me.
Six Feet Under is a show about a family who owns a funeral home. The show begins its story arch when the family patriarch kicks the bucket. Each episode starts with a death and the inevitably of tragedy is a central theme. It’s a tale at least as old as Sophocles and Euripides, and definitely older than them. However old, the truth endures: death is certain and life does not exist without death.
If you can’t tell that the world is mired in paradox, that logic is not linear, and that you must hold more than two diametrically opposed ideas in your head at once, then I’m not sure anyone can help you.
The question is not if tragedy will befall your existence, it is a question of when and how many times. Like Six Feet Under, your story begins post-tragedy.
My brother died as an infant. He was born with Spinal Muscular Atrophy, also called Werdnig-Hoffmann disease, and lived for approximately six-months. I was three years old when he died and have no recollection of my brother. This tragedy—which now can be easily averted via genetic testing and abortion—occurred at the beginning of my life, however, the multiplier effects have accompanied me throughout.
Very few people know that I have a brother. I generally say that I do not have siblings because, I don’t presently, and Chris’ life was so short and absent it is difficult to understand if it was real. The truth is that I do have a brother and while he lived very shortly on this earth, I cannot fathom the devastation felt by my parents and the causal effects of his death on our future paths.
It can be fortuitous to begin your life with a tragedy; you skip the first act. No boring set-up, get right to the action of living. Keep going and keep your fingers crossed that the next one is light, forgiving and not so disruptive.
“It takes a worried man to sing a worried song” and friends, I am worried. There is much to fear. War, election outcomes, economies and disease, to name a few things. However, the totality of existence (or whatever we might call this perceived shared world) is a comfort.
Worry is acute but love endures.
The cumulative effects of tragedies across the globe overwhelm but love and beauty can fill the majority of your days. Aggregating the daily practices of love and wonder equates to a greater total than the sum of sharp tragedy.
Still, we must practice and continue to create, observe and give.
At least, that’s my perspective. If you really want to contemplate death in enlightening ways, I suggest you read
.Song and Video
This song is a cover of Will Oldham’s “Death to Everyone” from the album, I See a Darkness. It was selected as a cover song as part of Brad Kyle’s Tune Tag. It is available on Bandcamp as part of my recently released EP of cover songs.
The music video is a mash-up/cut-up of The Hands of Orlac, a 1924 Austrian silent film about a pianist who loses his hands in a train accident and receives some new ones via a transplant. The twist? The hands received by the titular Orlac are the hands of a murderer! There are some striking scenes. I plucked a few, overlayed them and supplemented it with visual effects using Wondershare Filmora software to create this video.
Anything Else?
Glad that you asked. You can still purchase a cassette featuring an entourage of Substack musical talent.
Additionally, the WMRT executives are carefully considering a Salon du Monde reboot. I’ll grease as many palms as possible, if you know what I mean. Sorry, that sounds gross—what I’m saying is that I will bribe the executives with money, nothing salacious.
Until next time super-ani-pals,
RS
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