Wednesday, June 30, 2010

If the Trumpet could speak

H/T Gerard via Buzzfeed
Is the young anarchist in the photograph proud of himself? Is he? He is all but naked, he is holding in his teeth a pair of very expensive sunglasses, and though frozen for a moment forever, you can make out the swagger of a man who believes he has accomplished something very important with his wanton act of vandalism. He has made a statement, of course.

Death to the police! The law be damned.

But I am not interested in him...he's a piece of wondrous crapmanship, all right. No. It is the trumpet that has caught my eye.

The trumpet was made according to very strict guidelines. The combination of copper and nickel  and other metals was exact, the precise width and bend of the pipes were carefully hammered out, and it was passed on to someone else who buffed and cleaned and polished and buffed again and again and again.


The specific color of brass that plated it was not some helter skelter crap shoot, but a precise calculation by metallurgists.

The inlaid pearl on the buttons, and the springs, and every little detail that went into the exquisite etchings on its bell made this manly instrument a work that required many skilled hands and minds, with the end result being that the man playing the trumpet submits to the authority of a conductor, who not only knows the trumpeter's part, but all the parts of the symphonic work as well, with the trumpeter playing only his parts when called upon. The trumpeter must trust that the conductor knows his job, and the conductor must trust the trumpeter to likewise know his music and instrument.

The trumpet and the trumpeter are the outcome of strict, ordered and well-disciplined minds and hands, as its  music is also ordered. They are in tune with all around them, and take their cues from all around them. And as a result of the order and skill, we who are not skilled in the playing of the trumpet  meet with the sublime and are elevated by it.

So, clearly, the man holding the trumpet is not worthy of such a fine creation. As an anarchist, it is the wrong instrument for him. He should be playing the vuvuzela. The vuvuzela is a loud, obnoxious, plastic one-note irritant. Those who blow it adhere to no civilized rules of decency, there is no music in its bell, it is an abomination from hell. It is mass produced by people who don't care about anything but selling as many of these noise makers as possible. It is the base, appealing to the low.

Why is he holding this trumpet? Have you ever just walked into a store and bought a trumpet? It is an expensive thing. Not a toy to be played with.

The vuvuzela is more fitting for the sort of money an anarchist would pay out for anything, if he so much as thought about paying for something.

Not that I can imagine him actually paying for anything. Perhaps he will be allowed to make monthly payments on a slightly toasted police car.  I wonder what his credit score is.

Crossposted at Tasty Infidelicacies.

8 comments:

Dag said...

That's the kind of smart philosophising we need much of. Excellent.

Jewel said...

We should! I have to admit, Dag, that lately, I have been reading a lot of great philosophizing. It seems that the darker the world becomes, the brighter the lights shine, and there are not a few lights who are shining brightly. I think this is because the mainstream press have abandoned all pretenses of objectivity and thrown themselves full bore into the insanity. They are desperate and it just gets easier to opine, when the people who are supposedly educated and smart aren't anymore.

midnight rider said...

philosophizing

Toaster 802 said...

What your looking at is a trustafarian. A spoiled rich collage twit who has never had to pay for anything in his life. They play dress up as a dirty hippy, begging for change and smokes, then get into their brand new tricked out Subaru and drive away. They are anarchist with other people's property, as they have no sense of value, back to never working to pay for what they have. After collage, they cut their hair, take out the piercings and put on a suit.

Then they become the double talking know it all liberal scum that are driving this country down.

Rule number 1...know thy enemies.

Mother Effingby said...

Thanks, Toaster 802. You do the other 801 toasters proud. I suspected as much.

Unknown said...

Trustafarian! Trumpet analysis!! WOW !! We are having some fun!! Excellent !!!!

Anonymous said...

The vuvuzela is a loud, obnoxious, plastic one-note irritant. Those who blow it adhere to no civilized rules of decency, there is no music in its bell, it is an abomination from hell. It is mass produced by people who don't care about anything but selling as many of these noise makers as possible. It is the base, appealing to the low.

Did you just describe Obama?!

Mother Effingby said...

No, anonymous, just his acolytes.