Once-weekly posts on whatever nonsense crosses my mind.
I love Depeche Mode. In particular I love their sad songs, and for me there is none sadder than Blasphemous Rumours, from 1984.
I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God’s got a sick sense of humour
And when I die, I expect to find him laughing
If you listen to the whole song through, it’s a story of sadness, regret, irony and tragedy. A girl tries to girl herself, fails, and then finds redemption only to be hit by a car and killed.
I’ve been thinking about connections a little bit lately. I think about the people I’ve met, the people I haven’t, and the people I’ve left behind. And of all of them, I wonder—how connected am I to them?
I try to live my life with as few regrets as possible, and for the most part I think I’m pretty successful. I’ve made mistakes and done stupid things, but most of them have worked out pretty well in the end. But then I wonder if the same is true of the people I know, and more importantly the people I used to know. What if there’s someone out there regretting every day of their life because, unknowingly, I walked out of it?
Some years ago, my father’s brother died. I saw my father cry for the first time in his life, and I wondered why I didn’t. I had liked my uncle; I enjoyed visiting him very much, and was alway impressed at his ability to complete the Sunday Times crossword every week. I regretted that I hadn’t seen him as much as I should have in his last years, but I didn’t cry.
Satis Writes 