Tag Archives: art

A Treatise on Love and Letting Go

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

I know you’re hurting. I know you can’t talk to me about it. Hell, I can even understand why. So I’ll just leave this here, in case you ever need it.

I’ve learned a few things over the years, and maybe they’ll give you some comfort, if not guidance.

It’s a funny thing, love. Its ambiguity clashes with its ubiquity in the most confounding ways sometimes. It’s why you’re hurting. It’s why I’m hurting. It’s why neither of us can go to the other for comfort. It’s even why I’m being so painfully surreptitious this very moment.

Of course I love you. That’s why I’d never ask you to say it back. Not anymore. It’s why our suffering—so unified in source—must nonetheless remain sundered: why we talk in platitudes. It’s why my very presence before you, day after day, is a lie. Lying because of love…that may be one of the older lies in the proverbial book.

Yeah, love is funny like that.

But I’m not the only one hurting, and this isn’t about me.

I want to talk about the hard things—not offer shallow advice. I want to help you, even though you do not ask it; perhaps precisely because you do not.

It’s been said that love is a battlefield (Source). I think there’s some truth in that. I also believe, however, that the vast majority of people misinterpret this to a terrible and unforgivable degree. There is a key distinction to be made here: fighting for love, vs. fighting with love.

Too often, desperate lovers confuse the two. In fact, I half suspect that many relationships spend the greater part of their time doing the latter—raging against the inevitable. They hurt each other in the process of course, but in the moment it seems justified. When we love, we naturally forsake all other reason—for love itself is an act of faith, and requires little in the way of logic or objective measure.

But when we fight against a failing love, we are not defending our vision of the future, but rather doing a violence to the cherished past.

I hope that gives you some context. I hope it helps you understand your options. Further—perhaps foremost, if I’m honest—I hope it explains why I did so sorry little in the way of trying to change your mind.

I’d fight to hell and back for a love that’s fighting for it right by my side. I’m certain you would as well. But if lovers are not fighting together, then any effort on either part is not fighting for, but fighting with.

I would not fight against your will, for I know that in all the great love stories, the lovers are fighting great odds, but ever in harmony with one another.

They are on each other’s side.

It was the Montagues and Capulets who sought to sunder Romeo and Juliet—never their doubt of one another. Nor indeed would Luthien forsake Beren upon his quest—not even into hell, nor death itself.

I’m not sure at the present moment what I hope you’ll take from that. I don’t even know for certain what you’re dealing with.

Love really is funny like that.

Nonetheless, it’s all irrelevant.

I’ve thought so much since that day, and I’ve come to some important conclusions about my role and purpose. It started with the simplest of questions: what now? That proved to be less simple than I’d initially thought.

It’s been a long time, after all.

As far as I can see, my only duty now is to be the best friend I can, since that is the only role left to me. Let me be clear on this point—that is because of love, not in its spite. I will be there, but never demand to be. I will be absent when that’s what’s best, and there the moment you need me. I’ll be a sounding board, a support, a shoulder to cry on…an unsolicited piece of advice on an obscure blog.

I’ll be whatever you need…even if that is nothing at all.

At this point, I have no idea if I’ve been helpful here. I don’t know what you need. I don’t know that you’ll ever read this, or if you’re even in need of any such counsel. If not, then I suppose my job is done, or never existed. That’s ok. That may even be the best possible outcome to all of this.

I realize, in hindsight, that I have spoken more about myself than you. It goes with the territory—with my lack of context, my drought of knowledge…my desperation to remain relevant in some small way. It’s selfish I know, to insist on serving in spite of the congregation’s absence. To define oneself by one’s relation to others is a listless and impotent struggle.

…The death throes of desire.

So what now, my dear? Where do we go from here?

I don’t know where you’ll end up. Neither do I know exactly where I am going. Nevertheless, I can tell you where you will find me, if ever you need to. I’ll be right where I’ve always been—it’s the only place I know.

I guess that’s the funny thing about love…it’s a special sort of madness.

 -Brad OH Inc.

Sea of Lies

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

I listen ‘cross the open sea,

The wind comes faint but clear,

The message I have longed for still,

I seek but do not hear.

The clatter of the steamers,

The bouncing of the dories,

Confused and contradicting voices,

All telling different stories.

I strain amidst the clamour and din,

To sort the idle chatters,

And parse them out and crack the code,

And hear what truly matters.

The voice is there, the words unformed,

Hang on the winds gale,

And promise me to someday share,

The end of my own tale.

That quiet beneath the roar,

The plodding maelstrom,

Tugs unceasing at my mooring,

And lures me far from home.

But still the promise lingers,

From deep beneath the fray,

An island out amid the waves,

Upon which I might stay.

-Brad OH Inc.

One Tin Soldier

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampI’ve never had any real talent when it comes to music, which might cause one to think that music class in elementary school was a squandered opportunity for this particular writer. Not so.

I always appreciated the opportunity to learn more about the creation of music—and had the opportunity to experience a great deal of fresh sounds and bands, which fed more naturally into my deeper passion for story-telling and metaphor.

I recall one moment in particular, likely around grade 2, which stood out to me as an exciting introduction to the incredible narrative potential of music. My small class had filed into the music room, and sat in a semi-circle upon the cold, carpeted floor. There, we waited in silence as our teacher played us an old song, ‘One Tin Soldier’, by ‘The Original Caste’ (Link).

The song tells the story of two different kingdoms—one on a mountain, and one in the valley below. The people of the valley have heard legends about the glorious treasure kept by the mountain people, and demand the mountain kingdom surrender their riches immediately. The mountain folk welcome the valley people, and offer to share all they have. Needless to say, this proves insufficient for the violent valley tribe—who slaughter the mountain people and take the prize all for themselves.

When the battle has ended and the mountain people all dead, the warriors from the valley turn over the stone to reveal their prize—a simple proclamation of ‘Peace on Earth’.

The chorus of the song—repeated throughout—brings home the terribly apt message for us kids who may still lack the nuances of literary interpretation. It says:

‘Go ahead and hate your neighbor

Go ahead and cheat a friend

Do it in the name of heaven

You can justify it in the end

There won’t be any trumpets blowing

Come the judgment day

On the bloody morning after

One tin soldier rides away’

These lines reverberated loudly through my child-mind, and continue to do so to this day. They are a poignant reflection on the folly of using God to justify atrocity, and seemed a sacrosanct truth to my youthful and naïve little brain.

I admit, it still feels like it should be as self-evident now as it was then, and I should expect to look around and find the lesson here to be well and thoroughly applied all around the world.

Sadly, this certainly isn’t the case. To the right and the left, every side of the political debate calls upon the name of God to justify their vitriol and hatred—encouraging increased violence and tighter control to continue their war against the dreaded ‘other’.

This ‘other’ of course, is on a holy and justified-from-on-high mission of their own.

It’s a strange situation—that the entire world stands ready to tear the throats from one another all over the assumed intentions of a God who has up to this point made no clear endorsement of any of this childish bullshit.

Where does this leave us? A sorry state, to say the least. With everyone feeling justified for every vile thing they do, and trumpeting the name of God about as if that undoes the sin of their actions, there is little room for somber reflection or moral consideration. When we self-justify by appealing to a greater power, we thusly strip ourselves of the responsibility of our actions.

God is never an excuse to act unjustly—and it is an especially cowardly and desperately ironic excuse to attempt.

Again, the lyrics come to mind.

‘You can justify it in the end…’

Good luck with that.

We will, before this age ends, be faced with many more bloody mornings no doubt. But at the least, let us face them with self-certainty and personal empowerment. Let us act for ourselves and our own values—with consideration and compassion for all others. That—and that alone—is acting in the name of God, no matter what name you choose for him.

All else is the purview of Tin Soldiers—hollow and blood-soaked—who ride away with hopes despoiled and fates long-sealed.

-Brad OH Inc.

It is Good

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampIt is good to think of ourselves as guests in this world. For that is surely what we are. We come, and we go. What we leave behind is for the next guests to live with…for a while.

I write a lot about fundamental virtues, and the dignity which is shared by all people and all creeds. For those few who would actively deny that basic human decency, this article is not for you.

To skirt all tangential esoteric questioning, we are here for a while, and then we die. The world goes on.

The situation we are born into is a geographic lottery, and we spend our short time dealing with the choices of thousands of generations of guests before us.

Our actions will affect all those to come.

As such, the assumptions we make and the expectations we hold should hardly be different from our attitude towards being a guest in the house of a friend or colleague.

A guest should not take more than they need, and never without asking. A guest should help out in any way they can. A guest should not cause any undo harm or damage, and a guest should leave things exactly as they find them.

It’s all just good sense, social intelligence, and common respect in the small scale scenario of visiting the home of a friend or colleague, and the grander stage of global interdependency should not obscure this view.

Just as we would not pillage the pantries of our hosts and leave them in want, neither can we allow our society to deny the potential of our skills and resources to nations or people with less. Likewise, just as it would be obscene to deface or destroy a home we are welcomed into, so too is it beneath us to take any action that might ruin this planet we enjoy so briefly, leaving it barren for the generations to come.

To do either would be violence most bestial, with or without gunfire.

It is an easy enough philosophy to nod your head to, but we must now explore the implications. To take no more than what we need, and leave things as they are, many would find themselves no longer the fortunate inheritors of land, wealth, and privilege which the circumstances of their birth have so far afforded. All would need an equal share—and none could be so bold as to demand more. Food, shelter, healthcare, and freedom would be the inherent birthright of all humanity, and the bettering of this shared condition—and its sustainability for future generations—would be the ambition and passion of all.

It’s good to show respect for our host. Our time, our place, and our ability to contribute are irreplaceable commodities which we cannot afford to squander on vanity and entitlement. For a thankless guest soon finds herself with nowhere else to go.

It is good to know these things.

-Brad OH Inc.

‘A Story Untold’

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Today, we here at Brad OH Inc. have another special treat for all our loyal followers. We’ve written a lot of articles in the past about meaning, legacy, and communication, and today we’re thrilled to present a new, free ‘Single Serving Story’ about precisely those themes.

‘A Story Untold’ is the tale of four young children who share in an incredible adventure. Taken against their will on a ride through the stars, the children all process the experience rather differently, and as the full weight of their situation dawns on them, it is up to each to find the meaning and sense behind it in their own individual way.

This short story was written as a quick foray into the sci-fi genre, and may mark the first of several to come. We certainly hope you enjoy this new style as much as we enjoyed creating it.

Click the link below the image to download ‘A Story Untold’ now for free!

A Story Untold- Cover‘A Story Untold’- Smashwords

-Brad OH Inc.

A Brief Ode to Baseball

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

Bases and bunts and broken bats,

Bullpens and secret tips of the hat.

Backstops and breaking balls,

And charging the mound after dubious calls.

Check swings, switching up, and clutch hits,

Cut offs, steals, and foul tips.

Dugouts, cleats, and walk-off hits,

Grand slams, tag ups and catcher’s mitts.

Diving grabs and 3-run shots,

Home plate and the batter’s box.

Pitching duels and pennant races,

Pinch runners and shifting places.

Mounds and moonshots and make-up calls,

Money pitches or base on balls.

Errors and bloopers and hard line drives,

Breaking up plays with illegal slides.

Cutters and sliders and throwing the heat,

South paws and road trips and records to beat.

Strikeouts and tag-ups and tough one hoppers,

Infield rookies racing for choppers.

Aces and shutouts and defending the title,

Manufacturing runs and hitting the cycle.

Pitching relief, close or starter,

Young boys with posters of Joe Carter.

Pick off throws and Double plays,

And crowds all chanting ‘Let’s go Jays’.

-Brad OH Inc.

Are Humans Really Great Apes?

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

Scientific taxonomy classifies human beings within the family of hominidae, more commonly known as the ‘Great Apes’. We share this taxonomic family with three other genera, members of which include the orangutans, gorillas, and chimpanzees—all fine and majestic animals to be sure (Link).

Each of these creatures have found their niche within their local eco-systems, and have lived in a relatively balanced natural state for generations uncounted. They consume the resources available, and are consumed by the predators which are capable of doing so. They live within their means, and display a general civility to one another aside from occasional competitions over mates and territory. Meanwhile, the homo sapiens, or ‘humans’, have for the entirety of recorded history been putting on a childish display of wanton consumption and heedless destruction. If we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that this begs a pretty important question: are Humans really ‘Great’ apes?

All things considered, we’ve had our fair share of positive moments. We’ve built some incredible structures, and solved puzzles that would leave the rest of the apes scratching their furry little skulls in abject bewilderment. We’ve spread our population far and wide, and survived countless changes to the world we live in. At the very least then, we may certainly be considered alright apes.

Of course, most of the cataclysmic challenges through which we have persevered have been our own doing. We have an incredible and unparalleled ability to intellectualize our world and use ration to consider the effects of our actions. Still, we have managed to destroy much of our ecosystem, and of the many wonders we have achieved, few have been able to endure. So in truth, perhaps we are really just ok apes.

It’s true that if we really want to compare ourselves to the other members of the hominidae family, we should take a serious look at their lives as well. Doing this, we find them knuckling along the filthy earth, hurling feces and screaming unintelligibly at one another. This might often be followed up by a good chest-pounding, or perhaps even an old fashioned beat-down. Needless to say, humans are little different. Despite our marvelous intellect and incredible capacity for empathy, we resort to terrible violence no less often—nor is feces-throwing ever completely out of the question. All things considered, we might really be quite ordinary apes.

The things about this, however, is that we are so perfectly equipped to do better. It’s a matter of achieving one’s potential—the old, ubiquitous notion that one must be compelled not to do better than all the rest, but rather to simply do one’s personal best. Our cerebral-capacity alone affords us the potential to accomplish so much more than the others, and to shift beyond this base-violence into a far more gracious and well-mannered state of being. The promise we have is unbounded by anything save our imaginations, and this has been shown time and again—as numerous societies have risen to show the glory of mankind’s innate potential. But for every rise, there has been a fall, and we have proven consistently unable to maintain any serious ascension into the epoch of equality and dignity for which we are so well qualified. We may build great cathedrals, but we inevitably use them for the spread of greed and power rather than grace and mercy. We may write of utopian ideals or great societies, but we fall ever short of realizing them as we capitulate to the temptations of wealth and fame. Perhaps then, we may best be described as under-achieving apes.

Much of this question comes down to potential. There can be little doubt that we as humans have the theoretical potential to be the most inspiring and beautiful creatures to ever grace this earth. Our capacity for reason and problem-solving could allow us to truly be the promised stewards of the earth—watching over our hominidae brethren and all the other creatures with whom we share this wonderful planet. But where we may have spread equity and joy, we have sown only despair and intolerance. Where we may have acted as guides and care-takers to the planet we have left it barren and unstable. Finally, where we may have been exemplars of decency and righteousness, we have fallen ever to our own doubts and greed—wallowing in misery as we toil ceaselessly for more of what we want at the expense of what we really need. In truth, the homindae family and the world in general may have been far better off if humans had never climbed out of the trees from whence they came. In the end, I suppose, we really are pretty disappointing apes.

-Brad OH Inc.

When You Arrive

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

When you arrive,

My back will straighten,

My eyes will shine,

And pace will hasten.

When you arrive,

I’ll live once more,

Not for myself,

But to adore.

When you arrive,

I’ll build my home,

Which cannot stand,

For self alone.

When you arrive,

I’ll hear anew,

The sounds and songs,

That I once knew.

When you arrive,

I’ll play and laugh,

And drink deeply,

Of all I have.

When you arrive,

My fears will die,

When you arrive,

Then so shall I.

-Brad OH Inc.

Lutra Lutra Review

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Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampThe interior of Filthy McNasty’s has been renovated—a new stage occupying the space formerly reserved for pool tables and Big Buck Hunter. The bathrooms have been treated with a dull wood finish—belying the bar’s name with an unprecedented sense of care and cleanliness.

Otherwise, Filthy’s is much the same as ever. The specially made ‘420’ menu is a sheet of printer paper with a scant line of items on it, and the familiar denizens pack themselves in tightly—with little pretension and even less sense of personal space—around the stage. They’re waiting for Lutra Lutra to perform. We all are.

But, we are told, there have been some complications with the opening act, and we will have to continue waiting as the band scurries about trying to solve the problem. The fans don’t seem to mind the wait so much, the booze is flowing, and spirits are high.

Lutra Lutra are an Edmonton, Alberta based band who members include Garreth Burrows (Vocals and Guitar), Katrina Burrows (Keys and Vocals), Will Smith (Bass) and Denis Frigon (Drums), and much like the freshly updated interior of the bar, they too have promised to bring in the new by debuting several songs from their upcoming LP.

Their self-titled EP, ‘Lutra Lutra’ is hardly old, bearing a 2016 release, but the brief, 6 song debut disc is already very familiar to fans of the band—who continue to mill about, eager for the show to begin.

otterheadfinal-copy

This album, given to me recently by guitar player and vocalist Garreth, was an intriguing introduction to a band notable as much for its strong and precise rhythm section (Smith is an especially stand-out performance tonight) as it is for the articulate cadence of its near-literary lyricism.

With anthemic songs such as ‘Fall Out of Love (FOOL)’, ‘Miser Remedy’, and the energetic closer ‘What We’ve Lost’, the album, despite being only just over 17 minutes, is packed full of catchy riffs and memorable lyrics which do much to showcase the band’s wry humour. Many of these songs will be guaranteed crowd pleasers tonight. It will be interesting to see how the new, untested material will hold up to these old standards.

There’s action on the floor now, and we’re told the band has managed to line up not one, but two replacement openers—both buskers pulled off Whyte Avenue and offered a spontaneous opportunity to perform. These openers, Drew Donald and Paul each performed brief but impassioned sets, riling up the audience and setting the stage for the main act.

As Lutra Lutra take the stage and offer a congenial greeting to the close-knit crowd, there is a surge of excitement on the floor, and attendees push to the front, settling into place for the show.

The set opens with several new songs—each maintaining the spot-on precision and witty lyrics the band is fast becoming known for. When ‘Miser Remedy’ hits—the first familiar song of the set—the audience is moved by a fresh energy—eagerly bouncing their heads and swaying along to the tenacious and contagious beat. This was followed shortly by ‘FOOL’, and ‘Culture and Wine’, and the crowd’s enthusiasm continued to grow as the band delivered their signature blend of technical expertise and indefatigable swagger.

The newer songs in the set showed great promise, and as I gazed about the bar, I got a sense of eager anticipation—the fans taking in each note and word with the enthusiastic attention of lovers long sundered.

While the new songs may not have brought quite the same energy to the set as the older, more familiar ones did, it was clear that Lutra Lutra’s new LP will be hotly anticipated as the band continues to deliver stellar live performances and hold true to their unique signature style.

Lutra Lutra Photo

-Left to Right: Will Smith, Denis Frigon, Katrina Burrows, Garreth Burrows-

The penultimate song of the night, the EP closing ‘What We’ve Lost’, was a special treat. The infectious tune is a natural showcase for front-man Garreth’s easy-going charisma, and the audience was quickly whipped into a raucous fervour as the band brought the show to a closing crescendo.

Lutra Lutra put on one hell of a tight show tonight. The older songs from their debut EP garnered a great deal of enthusiasm from their dedicated fans, and if tonight’s performance is any indication, their upcoming LP is sure to be a treasure of new classics. Just like the bar they played in, Lutra Lutra proved that the charm and style they’ve become known for will not be lost as they head into the future.

If you’ve yet to catch Lutra Lutra live or want to grab their EP for yourself (and you should, on both counts), be sure to visit their website (Link) for more information.

-Brad OH Inc.

On Juggalos and Fanaticism

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The Gentleman Juggalo LogoNothing I do elicits more abject disdain than my passionate enjoyment of the Insane Clown Posse. ‘Enjoyment’ may be a slight understatement mind you, I am a self-proclaimed Juggalo, and that comes with some pretty loaded implications.

Childish insults and hateful slurs aside, Juggalos are known for taking their musical-affections a step beyond most other fan-bases. In fact, I’ve heard it justly claimed that for Juggalos, the term ‘fan’ is short for ‘fanatical’. It’s as apt an analogy as any I could come up with, so I’m happy to appropriate it here—it’s true, Juggalos almost to the last are entirely fanatical about their love of ICP.

But behind this trend of obsession and fanaticism lies a deeper insight into the nature of the music—one perhaps that can be applied more broadly to all those things which bring some small sub-sect of people to their knees while being lost entirely on everyone else. A key part of this is the high entry point of the music, due to its very nature.

ICP are often accused of being vulgar, juvenile, or much worse. None of these labels are entirely untrue, but they also miss a big part of the picture, and the entire context. One of the chief reminders I give to people attacking the artistic merit of ICP is to consider what the letters stand for—they advertise it right up front; they are clowns.

So the silly and obscene is all a part of the act, but it’s the larger theme of this act which represents the buy-in, and that comes only to listeners who hang around long enough to read the brightly coloured writing on the big top walls.

You see, beneath the greasepaint and pantomime there is a much greater sense of sincerity that most casual listeners miss completely. It was Oscar Wilde who once claimed ‘give a man a mask and he’ll tell you the truth,’ and there could be no more perfect proof of this platitude than ICP. By donning their outlandish personalities and presenting their ideas as revelations from the ‘Dark Carnival’, ICP create a farcical mirror of reality through which they can comment on the deeper realities of life.

Each album is created around a central, all-encompassing theme: usually grounded in notions of facing your own sin after death, karmic retributions, and personal accountability. On each album, these themes are explored through songs shifting in perspective, point of view, and more often than not, even through the eyes of briefly encountered and little explored alter egos. Some songs will be bright, cheery, and seemingly of little substance, while others will be aggressive and dark—with the clowns claiming in the first person to commit heinous acts and hold despicable beliefs.

Seldom is the intention spelled out plainly, and the ICP leave it up to their listeners to sort out the clues and piece together the bigger picture. A lifetime of listening can certainly make this an easy process, but if a song like ‘You Should Know’ (Link) is your first introduction to the band, it’s understandable you’d be left with a pretty bad taste in your mouth.

Truly, to hear any single song out of context, one could easily assume some pretty awful things about the motivations and beliefs of the duo—and their fan-base. A thorough understanding requires a listener to immerse themselves in the lore of the band, the story of each album (Joker’s Cards), and eventually the Juggalo culture itself to fully suss out the depth of meaning in ICP’s music.

But herein lies the rub, and to my mind one of the most incredible things about art presented in this once-removed way. The high buy-in level acts as a sort of built-in gate-keeper for the music itself. It’s kind of like an ‘extreme’ sport. You really don’t see a lot of people merely dabbling in the hobby of wingsuits, and listening to ICP is no different.

It’s exactly why there is such a sharp divide between people who like ICP’s music (‘like’ being an admittedly weak description), and those who don’t (…or inevitably hate it with a passion). It’s an all or nothing situation. If you hear a bit and get turned off, you’ll think little of them ever again, and potentially fear their dedicated following. But if you do the work needed to understand them, you’ll emerge from the other end with a more secure understanding of the art of metaphor in general, and a ‘family’ of Juggalos banded together all the more tightly by their outlier status and shared vision. At that point, it’s only a matter of time before the baptismal Faygo shower makes it official—welcome to the family ninja!

-Brad OH Inc.