Author Archive
Bert Montgomery
Of Mice And MIN…ISTERS (Ode to Advent and Axl Rose)
Sunday, December 18th, 2011
I’ve heard it said that Guns N’ Roses frontman Axl Rose was, and still is, an angry, angry man. I have no reason to doubt it.
There simply is no denying that they literally burst forth into the nation’s consciousness with a vengeance in late 1987, and for the next five-to-six years, until their utter implosion in 1993, they were perhaps the most important, exciting, terrifyingly self-destructive and unpredictable rock and roll band ever (sure, Axl has a bunch of guys playing with him today in a band he still calls “Guns N’ Roses,” but that’s like Paul McCartney hiring all new musicians and insisting it’s still “the Beatles”).
How To Satisfy Jesus (via the Gospel of Elvis)
Sunday, December 4th, 2011
I wish I had a nickle for every time God spoke to me through Elvis. Like Elvis’ song “A Little Less Conversation”:
A little less conversation, a little more action please;
All this aggravation ain’t satisfactionin’ me;
A little more bite and a little less bark;
A little less fight and a little more spark;
Close your mouth and open up your heart,and satisfy me.
Sure, on the surface it’s just another Elvis song pleading with a woman for some more active lovin’; but when paired with the Gospels, with repeated teachings of Jesus, and particularly Jesus’ parable of the Sheep and the Goats (see Matthew 25:31-46), it’s just as clearly a song that can be heard as Jesus’ pleading with the Church for some more active… well… lovin’.
Politics, Prejudices, and Hungry Dogs
Monday, November 21st, 2011
It was a cold and drizzling Easter Sunday morning, early just before the sun rises, in rural northern Kentucky. I was assisting the local Methodist pastor in leading the community Sunrise Easter Service.
Rev. Davenport decided to serve Communion to everyone in attendance at the conclusion of his devotional. He had with him a freshly baked loaf of bread, a chalice of grape juice, and a small fire around which we gathered to keep warm.
As Rev. Davenport read from the Scriptures, a mangy, stray dog started sniffing around all of us; Rev. Davenport never noticed as the dog came right up behind him and me … but I saw the dog grab that freshly baked loaf of bread in his jaws and run off with it.
Nevermind the Nonsense (Ode to Jesus & Johnny Rotten)
Friday, November 11th, 2011
The notorious, belligerent, somewhat anti-social punk rocker Johnny Rotten, at the end of his final live show with his band the Sex Pistols, yelled out to the audience, “ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” Rotten walked off the stage, left the band, and the Sex Pistols disintegrated not long afterwards.
So, ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?
We want life to be fair. We want to know, we want a guarantee, that if we keep our end of the bargain, that the other parties are going to keep their end of the bargain.
If we feel we have been cheated, there are all sorts of clearly defined procedures we can follow to register a complaint and have it examined by an official.
Thanking God for R.E.M.
Sunday, October 23rd, 2011
As soon as the news hit a few weeks back that rock band R.E.M. was retiring after over 30 years together, a call went out to writers to compose tributes to favorite R.E.M. songs. I can’t say I’ve been a fan of the original band – Michael Stipe, Bill Berry, Mike Mills, and Peter Buck – for all those thirty years, but I can say I’ve been a fan for the last twenty-five or -six.
I immediately replied with my request to write about their song “Everybody Hurts.” Actually, “request to write about” can be interpreted in this context to mean “begged, pleaded, and may have crossed the line over to ‘demanding’” (It’s just a very personal song for me). The nod of approval came my way, and off I went …
I should’ve asked for “Stand” – something peppy and fun; or something from Reconstruction of the Fables (or, Fables of the Reconstruction, depending on how you look at it). “Everybody Hurts” is just too personal.
Listening to the Dead
Sunday, October 9th, 2011
In the fall of 1980, when I was 12 years old, I went with my dad into downtown New Orleans to his office on Magazine Street. Driving down Canal Street, the home of the beautiful and historic Saenger Theatre, I noticed something strange happening, and the Saenger Theatre was the epicenter of it all.
The Grateful Dead was set to play a few nights at the Saenger, which meant that a few days before the first show DeadHeads from everywhere converged upon New Orleans and set up camp along and all around Canal Street. Being a budding student of all things 1960s, this fascinated me to no end. Though I’ve never been an honest-to-goodness tie-dyed-in-the-wool DeadHead, it was about that time that I really became interested in them; it was about that time, in my pre-teen years, that I began listening to the Dead.
