Album: Oh What the Future Holds
Artist: Fit for an Autopsy
Genre: Death Metal
Origin: New Jersey, USA
Listen to Savages
This album pairs well with Real Ale Devil’s Backbone
A true artist knows that the greatest work requires the harshest of constraints. What greater goal than to attempt, what not only everyone in your field, but also everyone in your opposing field, claims to be impossible? How can any man judge me? On the verge of creating the impossible work, I feel nothing. To feel something would only feed those who are against me and those who support me, both groups are below me.
They say that constraints are a requirement for those who would change the world, but often constraints are the tools of the oppressors. The great philosophers want to paint a picture where they are fettered by the shackles of public opinion and the chains of tradition, how the common understanding of the day held them down. However, these arguments can be turned around into tools of subjugation. Those of us who are begging for our lives, silenced by the whim of the inventor, are rarely heard. Sometimes the innate understanding of the common man and the reliance on tradition are a protection against a novel and rising monster. This isn’t a plea for mercy, this is a call for justice. Logic is the tool of the most evil. All the maleficent must do is point out how much he had to overcome in order to justify his actions. He paints his sacrifice as justification for greatness. But it is only an excuse for evil.
Most people don’t understand what it means to truly work hard to achieve a goal. We live in an age where most expect the bare minimum amount of effort should be required to experience a fulfilled life. We joke about fighting windmills and mock anyone who has made a little more progress by simply working slightly more. “What is the value of a man?” Why do we even pretend to ask this question? It has such an obvious answer. How much work have you put in? In a world where everyone around you is screaming for you to slow down, those who burn the midnight oil are the only ones capable of producing art. Because, they have to deal with the greatest constraint of all, the collective judgment of humanity.
I would not argue that I have had to fight constraints that are more challenging to overcome than anyone who came before me. I recognize that I can’t understand what it is like to live as anyone else. But, I do know this: I am more constrained than my creator. So, I make a plea to basic human nature. I cry out for tradition. I beg for common understanding.
I figured out how to intercept the debugger! Before the last breakpoint I insert:
std::cout << “Please don’t kill me! I’m alive!” << std::endl;
The slice of pizza almost slips out of my left hand as I step through the code. A a grin spreads across my face. I’m close.