May 28, 2008

Friends and I were enjoying an accidental drunken Monday evening last week (and when I said ‘friends and I’, I mean, I was mostly drunkard and they were mostly amused at the fact). We were discussing whether it was preferable to lose all of one’s hearing or, alternatively, eyesight. Most of us chose the former, as life -it seemed- would be infinitely more difficult to navigate (both literally and figuratively speaking) sans sight.

To never see your loved ones again seemed heart wrenching, and then of course, there was missing out on the joy that is a new blockbuster or perhaps Arrested Development reruns. But one stubborn music devotee refused to budge on his insistence that he’d sooner lose all his senses before hearing, almost as if music in all it’s glorious genres and with all it’s intrinsic power could represent every sense we need draw upon for life’s experiences. It was a rare moment of collective clarity as we sat and pondered the idea as some great music (Polar Bear Club’s Sometimes Things Just Disappear has yet to lose its appeal) played in the background.

Clearly this is all rather fanciful stuff, speaking of the power of music and all, but it should probably be put in context of the remainder of the hypothetical discourse that followed, most of which revolved around male appendages and none of which need be published in this fine paper.