Of love and music. A reminder.

Love. A word that has been said billions of times before, since man has met his first brother and sister under the rich embroidery of stars, to this day in time.

Men have lived, died, have fought, have surrendered, have won and have lost in the name of this unbreakable force. Yet it seems that in western society today, this word is being “twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools”, that it has been stripped of her clothes and humiliated in front of a misguided audition, that is filling the seats of this great amphitheatre. A generation ago, our parents were still writing poetry and songs about it in such a pure manner, almost childlike, that, to us, it seems like something out of a Cervantes' daydream. Has it been replaced with the Snow Queen's domain, where fire itself is frozen, where all is in a perfectly calculated symmetry of perfection? The answer...No. Fire cannot be contained forever, for fire is alike love as it will, ultimately, break its shackles and unleash itself upon this domain in a truly spectacular manner. Let us analyse the subtleties of today for a moment, for the devil is in the details. But we must never despair and lose faith -although, it is hard, at times- for it is a crime that we commit upon ourselves and all will be well in the end.
Let us begin with one of those rare things that awakes the senses, that feeds the soul, the psyche, the heart and sinew of man. Music, gentlemen! How is it possible that music has changed so much in the last few decades? Isn't music the reflection of society itself? Better said, is it not the reflection of the ILLUSION that is society? For in the end, it is an illusion, and that is why we must see beyond the bombardment of commercials and marketing gimmicks that makes up this illusion. Had the music of western society today not become a chaotic, hectic, despair filled abyss of insecurity, abandonment and collective loneliness masquerading as “fun” and fuelled not by desire, good sentiment and feeling but by...plastic. A cheap, profitable, sorrow inducing element that has no real beauty or art to it. A simple matter of consequentialism, of...pragmatic ethics. If it feeds the ego inasmuch as it brings profit, it is good, in their eyes. This, I believe, is trying to twist love into a business, into a trade of goods, as it was, at times, where the profit element came into question...as the nobles of old have gotten married simply for personal gain. Alike plastic, love is being twisted into a simple exchange of fluids, a simple act of fitting a piece into another. Missing is Giacomo, gone away is Don Juan and still charging towards the windmills is Quixote. They are not, though, dead for there are still lovers in the world and I am not at all saying in a Nitzschean fashion that love is dead and we have killed it, only that we must be careful not to give way to these cowardly back-stabbers of love, hidden in the coin. You see, evil has taken a new form and the devil does not tempt you by brute force but by subtle word, by sowing doubt and despair. Heed not these words we must, but instead, live on and love on for no law in the Universe can stand against love.