speaking of Henry Rollins...

...I recently watched one of his standup clips on YouTube that a friend had sent me. He was ranting on the currently bloodless, mass-produced, neutered state of most modern music, and he asked, "Where's the balls?! Are these people born without testosterone?...Aren't there people around who just want to put on a record and just wreck everything in sight?!" He still wants to, even into his forties.
And so do I.
About the only difference between us is that I want to do it for, and with, God. Most scene veterans dismiss the idea as incompatible with the nature of the music. Many Christians blow gaskets and pillory the very thought as an affront to the nature of God.
Well, what's compatible and non-affronting? I'll focus on compatibility with the will and nature of God, because I don't mind cashing in some scene points to gain eternity and help others do the same.
Is it the - let's face it - bloodless, mass-produced, neutered "praise & worship" that has infected the vast majority of Evangelicalism? Dear God, I hope not. One more limpwristed, breathy-voiced, keyboard-caressing troubadour panting out some flatlining paean to a caricature of Jesus that sounds like it's evenly divided between shrink and sex partner may well push me RIGHT OVER THE GODDAMN EDGE. Or I could really kick up my heels and start the very thing that this world needs most of all - yet another pop-punk band who take a standard Mk. 1, Mod. 0, Blink-182 ripoff tune, clean out the naughty words and sing about our church's way-cool youth pastor so everyone knows we're down with the big J.C. and we can call ourselves a ministry.
Gag me with a jackhammer (thank you Siobhan).
Hey, ya know what? If that's well and truly your gift, if it's honestly what God put on your heart to offer the Body so we can reconcile people to Him, then run with it. If I could bring myself to believe that more of what I just described was coming from peoples' hearts, I wouldn't be so acerbic about it. What grates on me has damn little to do with style. It's about jumping on an assembly line and cranking out only what is expected and accepted because no one wants to be seen doing anything different. How the hell does that reflect Christ's image? Remember, the One whose fearless exposure of the rulers' hypocrisy and callousness got Him stapled to a tree?
I wish that I could claim to be fearless. I ain't. But I'm angry. If the reasons for that are the right ones, fear won't last long. I don't want to jump ahead of God. But I think that the people and things that inspire me, as well as those that piss me off, do so for a reason. And I believe He will lead me into that. I don't know what form that will take, only that if it's really from Him, it will be good, though it may not be safe.
I've heard brutal music that bores the teats off me, and I've heard tranquil, uber-melodic worship that puts me on the floor. Like I said, it ain't about style. We sure as hell don't need more artists clamouring to shoehorn themselves into prefabricated genre moulds. I want to be real. Enough to let God use what He's got in me to entice others to do the same.