I believe that we come into this world with a clean slate. or as aristotle called it tabula rasa. we were happy children that played and watched the birds, a butterfly, a beautiful girl, or just listened to motown and heard marvin gaye sing mercy, mercy, me.
Tabula rasa (Latin: blank slate) refers to the epistemological thesis that individual human beings are born with no built-in mental content, in a word, “blank”, and that their entire resource of knowledge is built up gradually from their experiences and sensory perceptions of the outside world. (wikipedia)
something happened to us when we were filled up with all kinds of noise and distractions through a variety of sources and institutions. information entered our souls as we were programmed to fear god and assume guilt about everything and anything. now we were screwed. the churches kept the information flowing. one day you’re in heaven, but the next week you’re going to hell. we wanted truth and we sought and fought for it high and low. some of us studied theology, philosophy, history, and became more confused. we saw the world and god as being hostile, malevolent, and out to get us. the information and the programming continued along with the big lies that were perpetuated by this constant barage of information and control. we found our solace in drugs, music, and in between the legs of a woman. we couldn’t escape it.
it kept coming. trust your government, do your penance, and show up for church while your soul and your clean slate, your tabula rasa, was now filled to the brim with intellectual and informational nonsense. now the clean slate, the tabula rasa child like brain must rid itself of this junk that we unwittingly were exposed to like a toxic dump site. intellectualism and existentialism and capitalism and catholicism any other ism was just that, an ism, that became a schism that broke our minds in half. we went crazy with our brains filled with nonsense and institutional programming.
Logic became illogical. when i was young it seemed that life was so wonderful, a miracle. and then the joy, the peace, the happiness of the child like mind became confused, angry, depressed, suicidal, and the tabula rasa, the clean slate brain became a 3 gigahertz pentium chip that was incapable of stopping. we now had to analyze, criticize, and philosophize without any cries. At some point and we don’t know when, but someone drove the chevy to the levy and the levy was dry. And so bye bye Miss American Pie. and the three men i admired most, the father, son, and the holy ghost, they caught the last train for the coast, the day the music died. oh god mercy mercy me and all of thee.
American Pie
Don Mclean
A long long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
So bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Did you write the Book of Love?
And do you have faith in God above?
If the Bible tells you so
And do you believe in rock ‘n roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow
Well, I know that you’re in love with him
‘Cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died
I started singin’ bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone
But that’s not how it used to be
When the jester sang for the King and Queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me
Oh, and while the King was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
And while Lennon read a book of Marx
The quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died
We were singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Helter Skelter in a summer swelter
The Byrds flew off with a fallout shelter
Eight miles high and falling fast
It landed foul out on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the Sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance Oh, but we never got the chance
‘Cause the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died
We started singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation Lost in Space
With no time left to start again
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash sat on a candlestick
‘Cause fire is the devil’s only friend
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
He was singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play
And in the streets the children screamed
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died
And they were singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
This’ll be the day that I die
They were singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee But the levee was dry
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die
