Last night I attended a fantastic musical fireside. I seriously had the most intense chicken skin through at least half of it.
And the other half? Well, let's just say I wanted to poke my eyes out.
In Hawaii they sing at musical firesides.
In Utah they sing too, but they also talk. A lot.
Is it just me, or do white people love to talk? Or maybe talking is a Mormon thing. (Not judging, just saying). It ain't our fault that we have a lot of explaining to do. Or that we feel responsible for enlightening the world and making them blind all at the same time.
In Utah they do powerful slide shows and videos at their musical firesides. Last night the powerful music accompanied powerful images of powerful pioneers pulling handcarts. The musical metaphor was something about how we are modern pioneers pulling heavy handcarts full of unnecessary sins which keep us from progressing.
Just as I was making the connection, the screen SUDDENLY lit up with subliminal messages popping out and racing across the screen--big words and little words coming at us in 3D. Words like texting and t.v. and sports.
Then there was a REALLY gigantic word that zoomed out at us, exploded onto the screen and, like aerial fireworks, hung there for a moment before it faded away.
Not just once, mind you. I subliminally saw it twice.
Honestly it didn't bother me--probably because I understand the value of unnecessary sinning to keep my head from spinning around and popping off. The only thing that bothered me was the power of suggestion. With great power comes great responsibility. That's what Spiderman always says. In one fowl/foul swoop, slide shows like that put ammunition in the hands of those who place more value on the necessary sins, like journaling and scrapbooking and family history.
But doesn't a rose by any other name smell the same?
Am I right? Or am I right?
Oh wells, when the necessary sinners brand me with a scarlet letter B, I can always stick my tongue out and say "At least I don't text!"
In all fairness, the slide show did provide equal ammunition. If my hub or kids try to cast stones at me for blogging I can always poke their eyes out for playing sports.
Then once we're all sufficiently blind, we can sit down together and watch t.v. without any guilt.