The new Ghost album, Skeletá, is pretty good, even if it's not my favorite of theirs. Meliora may be at the top, and I definitely think it's their most even and refined. The lyrics on Skeletá can occasionally be cringey, not unlike Impera, but like all Ghost albums, there are some hits, and they're not all singles.
The rock ballad Guiding Lights may be my favorite song on the new album. It sounds like something that belongs on a film's soundtrack. It also contains what I consider to be genuinely useful insight. I'm embarrassed to quote Ghost, but as Seneca said, “I shall never be ashamed of citing a bad author if the line is good.” (Not that Tobias is a bad author. He's just not who most people think of when they think of life advice.)
Anyway, the line is:
The road that leads to nowhere is long.
In other words, if you find yourself stuck, you may be on the wrong path, and continuing down it may never prove that to you. In fact, the continual belief that the reward is “just a little ways ahead” is a pretty good indication that you'll never reach it. Although it can be painful, in circumstances like those, you'd be better off turning around and trying something else. You might even find that another approach gets you to your destination more quickly than anticipated.
The financial incentives to create addictive digital content would instantly disappear, and so would the mechanisms that allow both commercial and political actors to create personalized, reality-distorting bubbles.
Clickbait, listicles, and affiliate marketing schemes would become worthless overnight. Algorithm-driven platforms like Instagram and TikTok that harvest and monetize attention, destroying youth, would lose their economic foundation.
[…]
Removing these advanced manipulation tools would force everyone—politicians included—to snap back into reality. By outlawing advertising, the machinery of mass delusion would lose its most addictive and toxic fuel.
I enjoy the craft of computer programming, the endless desire to solve problems better than I did last time. I may enjoy it more than any other aspect of my job, and it’s served me well in my career. I’ve become a good programmer. I may even be a very good programmer. I don't know. I’m not sure I can make that distinction myself.
Is that enough? I don’t know. In all commercial art, the artist needs to sacrifice some amount of beauty and perfection to pay the bills. (I don't mean for that to sound too pretentious, but I do think of software development as art, or at least much more like art than most people imagine.) Too many sacrifices, though, and the work becomes painful. Where's the line? How much should one allow it to move? I don’t know.
Be more like Buckethead. Do what you love, even if other people find it strange. Those same people might also find it beautiful.
Yes, many artists wear costumes on stage, but Buckethead, or Brian Carroll, clearly sees the world differently, even when he's not performing. He's a soft-spoken, shy, reportedly very sweet man who sometimes gives interviews through hand puppets. He writes songs about robots and Michael Jordan and his love for his parents. He hands out toys and does nunchaku demonstrations on stage. He's said his greatest goal is to build a theme park, but he's also afraid to call others on the phone to talk business. All the while, he's one of the world's most skilled, creative, prolific, and underappreciated electric guitarists.
Here's one of his most well-known songs, “Soothsayer”. A lot of the songs on Colma are fantastic, and I'm currently enjoying “Padmasana”, which I forgot about until now. I also like the soundscape album Bucketheadland (remember how he wants to build a theme park?), but it's hard to find online, and that link may not work for long.
Be more like Buckethead. Be more brave in doing what you love.
Irritability is not bad temper. Nor is bad temper irritability. Bad temper carries the heart into it. The bad tempered man really does delight to vex and torture. Irritability flames and is gone. But both ruin happiness.