Music Monday

If atheists are right and God in whatever form does not exist, if we are alone in the universe and there is nothing out there but dust and echos and light, how much more wonderful is music?  Existence in general but music particularly.  Motes of dust upon a mote of dust hurling through infinity and all the while we sing.  We pound out patterns.  We pluck notes.  We toot a flute.  Cradled in our only home.

We scream at the darkness.  We compose complex melodies that mean something only to those that can hear it and even then it can mean very different things. We come from the dirt, we make something wonderful or share in something wonderful and then we go back.

Recently, in a cosmological sense, we've been beaming these songs and our voices out to the universe at large.  It may never be deciphered but we've added our voice to the background radiation of existence.  Part of us will never ever die and in a way it is one of the more honest parts of ourselves.  Music born from pain, joy and love.  Music made to make money.  Talk shows that illustrate what we found important at the time.  Comedy, propaganda, secret messages.  Each and all going out to infinity, possibly never to be seen again but never really gone.

Kind of makes bad music worthwhile, doesn't it?