I heard about Capitalism: A Love Story by watching Jay Leno’s new show on NBC. Leno interviewed Moore for about 8 minutes. It looked like this: two really rich guys, talking about how much capitalism is sucking for some other group of people. It is amazing because Moore actually calls capitalism “evil“ in his film. Of course it is an evil that he is trying to gain from by promoting his film on a program hosted by a guy who owns over 80 cars. (Now that is must see comedy. Way to go NBC.)

You now have two options. If you do not want to learn from Michael Moore’s latest film, then take the previous paragraph as your basis for writing it off. You also have the choice to learn from a hypocrite. This is the same choice you have every time you learn anything from anyone. It’s just that it is more obvious with Moore on this topic. So, if you are willing to learn from an unlikely teacher, here is your other (better) option:

Well... he did it.  For all of you Pedro-Christians out there, if you were confused where David Bazan stood midst the Evangelical realm - it's official.  It's "outside".  Bazan's latest solo release Curse Your Branches proves to be his most autobiographical (and theological) album to date.    Though committed to shed the Pedro moniker, Bazan's captivating sound remains.  Hypnotic vocals.  Patient melodies.  Narrative irony.   And theological undertones.

But don't let the familiarity fool you.  This is a different album.  A notion we explored at a recent house show we (rednoW) hosted this past April.  When asked whether there was a difference between his familiar "poking at the Christian community" and this album, Bazan asserted that Curse Your Branches is more "Here I am, take it or leave it" - referencing  his departure from the "fold of Evangelical Christianity".

According to recent statistics, approximately 5.4 million people have died over the last decade as a result of the ongoing warfare in the Congo. 2.2 million people die every year as a result of the global aids pandemic. 16,000 children die every day due to hunger related causes.  And there are an estimated 45 million displaced refugees around the world today - only 2.5 million of which are cared for by the United Nations.

The question remains: Who cares?

According to recent thought, you don't. And here's why.  When was the last time you actually did anything to benefit a particular crisis as a result of numbers?

Sure, there is some faction of tenderness in each of us.  But every time a society gets inundated with harsh statistics, complacency sets in. Experts refer to this phenomenon as psychic numbing - the "deprivation of compassion and deadening of feelings when one is confronted by appalling images, facts, or statistics." Is the West on the verge of a colossal compassion collapse?  Are we numbed by the numbers?

The difficult part of writing on, or discussing, a meaningful experience is that we run the risk of diminishing what was more amazing for us than we can attempt to match with the words at our disposal. "Awesome" is overused. "Crazy" sounds too frantic. "Righteous" rings a bit too much of the eighties. Though I don't doubt your lexicon reaches beyond these clichés, a movie, a book, a poem, a concert that moves us (higher) incites some innate, beneficent desire to share, to want others to know the tingle, the warmth, the "a ha!", the inside joke, the connection, the lift. This business of communication is an important one, indeed, and we constantly, consciously or otherwise, probe the limits of language when sharing what happens in our lives with others.

Seeing Explosions in the Sky is an experience beyond words, causing one to wish that there were some beauty-language (i.e. Sigur Ros' Hopelandic) that would successfully express to another a taste of what this band is about, what they create onstage, weaving wonders of aural alchemy that turn to some kind of gold when spread about enraptured audiences. The Texas-based instrumental band visited Congress Theater in Chicago on July 2^nd. The day marked their ten year anniversary as a band which, with the difficulties that artists working together often face, quietly impresses. Standing at the lone vocal-microphone at stage right, Munaf Rayani, one of the three guitarists (there isn't any obvious spotlighting of a frontman) softly spoke his traditional and ever-perfect introduction for the band: "My name is Munaf, and we're Explosions in the Sky from Texas, USA," walking toward the band to the rumble of an audience already roaring with anticipation.