Tuesday, February 18, 2014

the blankets were the stairs

One of my friends reminded me of Sunny Day Real Estate today when we were talking about formative high school years albums. And then a copy of Blankets crossed my desk at work and I was reminded once again of younger years and emotions that I thought I understood but didn't experience until much later.

A guy I went to Kent with who dropped out to move back to Pittsburgh to write comics and play in grindcore bands told me I'd love it. I did, and it also somewhat broke my heart because it was so familiar to me. The awfulness of youth group retreats, being the weird kid with spiritual doubts. It made me sad that by the end he'd lost his faith and his first love but oh goodness the artwork was so beautiful, every page so intensely rendered.

I had a conversation with a friend this weekend in regards to the science/religion binary that's been annoying the hell out of me the past couple weeks. We're on complete opposite sides of the fence when it comes to the culture wars, him being out and proud and skeptical and me being a self described bleeding heart hetero fundie, but neither of us want to fight those battles, because it's way nicer to just not be a jerk and assess people on their decency as humans rather than what sky-god they worship. Besides, we're too busy being good neighbors, eating dinner together, drinking Genessee and listening to punk rock. He said the other day that even though he believes in nothing, there's few things more devastating than watching believing people lose their faith. I'm inclined to agree with him.

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