Persistence of Time
It's generally agreed that thrash metal as a genre is dominated by four bands: Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, and Anthrax. These bands are, at the very least, the most successful thrash groups. Artistically, they brought different things to the thrash metal party. Metallica wasn't afraid to show off some prog rock along with speed metal in their influences, and created some fairly complex metal. And Dave Mustaine, who formed Megadeth after being kicked out of Metallica, decided that anything Metallica could do, he could do harder, faster, and more technically. Because of this (somewhat one-sided) rivalry, Metallica and Megadeth charted similar territory with their music. Slayer was darker. Dealing with Satan, murder, the Holocaust, or anything else horrific, they used simpler riffs played faster and louder to create a visceral sound. Really, Slayer is as close to death metal as you can come without the growling vocals necessary for genre membership.
Which brings us to Anthrax. How do they fit in? After working my way through the classic albums of three of the Big Four (Metallica's Master of Puppets1, Megadeth's Rust in Peace, and Slayer's Reign in Blood), I decided that it was time to complete the tetrafecta2 and find out. After consulting a few sources, I picked up Persistence of Time, which is considered by many to be Anthrax's best album. I listened to it and was dismayed.
The music in Persistence of Time isn't particularly fast. For a thrash album, that's a rather damning statement. In fact, the album drags on horribly. Persistence of Time turns out to be an appropriate name for the album; as you listen, each second of every song seems to last longer than it should, a strange dilation of time that makes you wonder how only one hour has passed when the album finishes. It seems like three times that, hours spent feeling your energy wane to nothing. But it's not just the speed. The riffs are all limp, having no power and incapable of holding your attention. The album bores me. Listening to it was a chore, and I hope to never do so again.
Which brings us to Anthrax. How do they fit in? After working my way through the classic albums of three of the Big Four (Metallica's Master of Puppets1, Megadeth's Rust in Peace, and Slayer's Reign in Blood), I decided that it was time to complete the tetrafecta2 and find out. After consulting a few sources, I picked up Persistence of Time, which is considered by many to be Anthrax's best album. I listened to it and was dismayed.
The music in Persistence of Time isn't particularly fast. For a thrash album, that's a rather damning statement. In fact, the album drags on horribly. Persistence of Time turns out to be an appropriate name for the album; as you listen, each second of every song seems to last longer than it should, a strange dilation of time that makes you wonder how only one hour has passed when the album finishes. It seems like three times that, hours spent feeling your energy wane to nothing. But it's not just the speed. The riffs are all limp, having no power and incapable of holding your attention. The album bores me. Listening to it was a chore, and I hope to never do so again.
1. I prefer ...And Justice for All, myself, but that's a minority opinion.
2. What, were you thinking "quadfecta", or "quadrafecta", or something like that? Nuh-uh, dude.
Persistence of Memory
Persistence of Memory is Salvador Dalí's best known work, and the painting most people think of when they hear the term "surrealism". It features a barren landscape with few landmarks, and four clocks that appear to be melting. It's a striking image to be sure, one that has worked its way into our culture, and with it, the idea of surrealism.
Many people think that surrealism as a movement solely focused on presenting the strange and unreal. However, its goals were better defined than that. Surrealism sought to create an art of the subconscious, to reproduce the logic of dreams in art. And at this, I tend to think that it fails. I am, of course, no expert. My knowledge is limited to the collections of a handful of museums that I have been to. But allow me to use Persistence of Memory as an example. Never have I had a dream that presented to me an image similar to the "soft clocks" of that picture. Dalí paintings contain images that are completely outside the realm of my experience. Their logic is that of a mad painter, not of a sleeping individual.
Certainly, though, I know what is meant by "dream logic". My dreams are in no way a perfect mirror of reality. Strange things are often accepted at face value, and people and places are connected in unlikely ways. I remember one dream that I had in which I was allergic to color. Nothing about this struck me as odd; I simply spent as much time in the dark as possible. And I'm not the only one who has had a dream in which the front door to your house leads to a building across town. At which point you simply make note that you won't have to mow the lawn this week, seeing as how it no longer exists, and continue on your way. Yet these ideas are absurd while awake. If Dalí, Magritte, and the rest fail to capture this distinctive view of reality, then is there anyone who does?
Yes. Of course yes. There are too many artists out there for there not to exist such a thing. In fact, I'm sure that there are more good examples of dream logic in art than I could ever possibly know about. So I'll just use this space to talk about two of my favorite examples.
The first example would be the episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer titled "Restless". In it, we see into the dreams of Willow, Xander, Giles, and Buffy. Xander's segment in particular seems very dreamlike: his insecurities have a central role, and all paths seem to eventually lead him to his parents' basement, even if he was just on a playground or driving. Add in a touch of sex (two women make out, off screen, and Buffy's mom is strangely...forward), and you have a bona fide dream.
Second, we have the excellent webcomic A Lesson is Learned, but the Damage is Irreversible. Each strip is its own self-contained vignette, and each seems to take place in a world where things work in ways that they probably (definitely) shouldn't. Certain strips hit the perfect note: bullets that only pierce the flesh of your one true love, philosophical Yeti, and Satan marrying your mom. The art works exactly as it needs to: Panels flow into one another as required by the events in the comic, pulling off some excellent visual effects that create meaning beyond the text. Such excellence truly is something of a dream, because it's too great to exist in the real world.
Many people think that surrealism as a movement solely focused on presenting the strange and unreal. However, its goals were better defined than that. Surrealism sought to create an art of the subconscious, to reproduce the logic of dreams in art. And at this, I tend to think that it fails. I am, of course, no expert. My knowledge is limited to the collections of a handful of museums that I have been to. But allow me to use Persistence of Memory as an example. Never have I had a dream that presented to me an image similar to the "soft clocks" of that picture. Dalí paintings contain images that are completely outside the realm of my experience. Their logic is that of a mad painter, not of a sleeping individual.
Certainly, though, I know what is meant by "dream logic". My dreams are in no way a perfect mirror of reality. Strange things are often accepted at face value, and people and places are connected in unlikely ways. I remember one dream that I had in which I was allergic to color. Nothing about this struck me as odd; I simply spent as much time in the dark as possible. And I'm not the only one who has had a dream in which the front door to your house leads to a building across town. At which point you simply make note that you won't have to mow the lawn this week, seeing as how it no longer exists, and continue on your way. Yet these ideas are absurd while awake. If Dalí, Magritte, and the rest fail to capture this distinctive view of reality, then is there anyone who does?
Yes. Of course yes. There are too many artists out there for there not to exist such a thing. In fact, I'm sure that there are more good examples of dream logic in art than I could ever possibly know about. So I'll just use this space to talk about two of my favorite examples.
The first example would be the episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer titled "Restless". In it, we see into the dreams of Willow, Xander, Giles, and Buffy. Xander's segment in particular seems very dreamlike: his insecurities have a central role, and all paths seem to eventually lead him to his parents' basement, even if he was just on a playground or driving. Add in a touch of sex (two women make out, off screen, and Buffy's mom is strangely...forward), and you have a bona fide dream.
Second, we have the excellent webcomic A Lesson is Learned, but the Damage is Irreversible. Each strip is its own self-contained vignette, and each seems to take place in a world where things work in ways that they probably (definitely) shouldn't. Certain strips hit the perfect note: bullets that only pierce the flesh of your one true love, philosophical Yeti, and Satan marrying your mom. The art works exactly as it needs to: Panels flow into one another as required by the events in the comic, pulling off some excellent visual effects that create meaning beyond the text. Such excellence truly is something of a dream, because it's too great to exist in the real world.
Persistence of Vision
Persistence of vision is the name given to a physiological phenomenon of the retina. Well, sort of. Some people use the term to refer to the process by which one appears to see motion when images are flashed in quick succession (e.g. in movies). This is incorrect, and kind of complicated3. And honestly, the phenomenon I'm going to talk about is actually called something else nowadays (to avoid confusion); something along the lines of "afterimage", depending on who you ask.
You see, when you look at something, your retina keeps a part of the image for some time after the stimulus is removed. The most obvious example of this is the red and green dots that float around in your field of vision after a flash goes off. This happens essentially because your retina is tired. The chemicals in your retina that move around to create the sensation of color, they take a little time to build back up sometimes. This is a simplification, and probably wrong in some way. If you're really interested, you should do some research. Joseph-Antoine Plateau did some research of his own on the subject back in the mid 19th century. At one point, he stared at the sun for twenty-five seconds; this eventually led to blindness.
It's kind of poetic, actually. He stared at the sun so long that it was scarred on his retina, giving his sight for his science, and carrying the mark with him for the rest of his life.
3. If you want details, check out this link.
You see, when you look at something, your retina keeps a part of the image for some time after the stimulus is removed. The most obvious example of this is the red and green dots that float around in your field of vision after a flash goes off. This happens essentially because your retina is tired. The chemicals in your retina that move around to create the sensation of color, they take a little time to build back up sometimes. This is a simplification, and probably wrong in some way. If you're really interested, you should do some research. Joseph-Antoine Plateau did some research of his own on the subject back in the mid 19th century. At one point, he stared at the sun for twenty-five seconds; this eventually led to blindness.
It's kind of poetic, actually. He stared at the sun so long that it was scarred on his retina, giving his sight for his science, and carrying the mark with him for the rest of his life.
3. If you want details, check out this link.
Persistence
persistence: Continuance of an effect after the cause is removed.
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
persistence: Continuance of an effect after the cause is removed.
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Nothing persists; not really. Not in the above sense, anyway. Ask Ozymandias.
Actually, that's not fair. Oz stuck around for longer than we credit him. We still look upon his (or at the very least, Shelley's) works and despair. Not for the same reasons as we might have originally, I suppose. It's a paradox: We despair that we no longer despair. Because if even mighty Ozymandias can be laid low be time, then we certainly will be as well. But eventually we'll forget even that we've forgotten Ozymandias.
This is all very basic stuff: mortality, temporality, entropy. It's the way the universe runs. At the very least, it's the way this universe runs; some might say there are others where such things don't exist4. Which brings us to infinity. What a trip, eh? It goes on forever. Which is cool.
Well, I'm not going to tackle that stuff here. I'm underqualified, and it doesn't make for good blog reading5. I tried writing some fiction on the theme of persistence for this section of the post, but it was all horror, and either lost the theme or sucked or would make me sound way too creepy. So instead you get this. But it's up for the world to see now, so it can stop kicking about the back of my brain. Thus, a persistent idea sees the light of day, in which it will eventually wither. And if that sounds really harsh, then a) you must have really liked the post, and b) you totally were not paying attention to the last part.
4. Plato, I'm looking at you. And the Christians too, I guess.
5. Not like an excerpt from a news article and a snarky comment, no way!
Actually, that's not fair. Oz stuck around for longer than we credit him. We still look upon his (or at the very least, Shelley's) works and despair. Not for the same reasons as we might have originally, I suppose. It's a paradox: We despair that we no longer despair. Because if even mighty Ozymandias can be laid low be time, then we certainly will be as well. But eventually we'll forget even that we've forgotten Ozymandias.
This is all very basic stuff: mortality, temporality, entropy. It's the way the universe runs. At the very least, it's the way this universe runs; some might say there are others where such things don't exist4. Which brings us to infinity. What a trip, eh? It goes on forever. Which is cool.
Well, I'm not going to tackle that stuff here. I'm underqualified, and it doesn't make for good blog reading5. I tried writing some fiction on the theme of persistence for this section of the post, but it was all horror, and either lost the theme or sucked or would make me sound way too creepy. So instead you get this. But it's up for the world to see now, so it can stop kicking about the back of my brain. Thus, a persistent idea sees the light of day, in which it will eventually wither. And if that sounds really harsh, then a) you must have really liked the post, and b) you totally were not paying attention to the last part.
4. Plato, I'm looking at you. And the Christians too, I guess.
5. Not like an excerpt from a news article and a snarky comment, no way!
