Bill's Notes

I once compared certain rock concerts to the Nuremberg rallies, saying there is an incipient and inchoate fascism inherent** in any crowd gathering where hands are thrust into the air in unison, whether the adrenalin rush is caused by hate speech or power chords. There wasn't much agreement from my usual commenters, probably because I overstated the case. Now I've run into this quote here in which the pope made a relevant pronouncement a few years back:

"rock festivals ... assume[] a cultic character, a form of worship..."

Standing in a crowd thrusting your hands in the air with others? You're at worship. Now the question is this: What are you worshipping, what have you lifted your hands up to? To quote Shakespeare from Timon of Athens, Act V, Scene XIII*:

You may be an ambassador to England or France,
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance,
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world,
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls

You might be a rock 'n' roll addict prancing on the stage,
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage,
You may be a business man or some high degree thief,
They may call you Doctor or they may call you Chief

You may be a state trooper, you might be a young Turk,
You may be the head of some big TV network,
You may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame,
You may be living in another country under another name

You may be a construction worker working on a home,
You may be living in a mansion or you might live in a dome,
You might own guns and you might even own tanks,
You might be somebody's landlord, you might even own banks

You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride,
You may be a city councilman taking bribes on the side,
You may be workin' in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair,
You may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir

Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk,
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk,
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread,
You may be sleeping on the floor, sleeping in a king-sized bed.

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody.

* Okay, yes, it's really Bob Dylan. But Shakespeare could've said it.

** Dear God when did I start writing like this? I'm not even sure how to express this is regular language. Forgive my pomposity.