The Commuter #6 – “Heirs to Thievery”

Three men sit in the semi-darkness of mid-afternoon. Each rests in his own unique posture of repose, none seem predisposed to move at any point in the near future. Their talk is that of men who have recently consumed a delicious meal and now, with a feeling of great contentment, have fallen into discussions far deeper and more complex than one would have thought possible prior to their enjoyment of the relaxing elixir of the delightful meal. Some pretty rad death metal is playing on the stereo. It is the new Misery Index record, Heirs to Thievery. 

The men are in the midst of a conversation on the merits of the album they are currently enjoying. All three are in accord regarding it’s excellence. Philo has even gone so far as to say it’s the best Misery Index yet. While Demea takes issue with this assertion, claiming the superiority of Discordia, Cleanthes is as yet undecided as to where this album stands in the Misery Index pantheon. However, he readily concedes that it’s definitely better than Traitors, an album he never liked all that much.

Cleanthes: This record is pretty radical, you guys. I’m especially struck by how insansely tight the band is. I mean, I’m not trying to imply that the other records were sloppy or anything…

Philo: Oh agreed, my friend. I dug Traitors quite a lot, as I am aware you did not, but this one has the sense of being an unshakable edifice.

Demea: See, while you feel unshakable edifice, I feel like I’m on a train. Like, a bullet train, hurtling ahead at hundreds of miles per hour. And it’s like the windows are open. And, and, it’s sort of like you keep getting the sensation that you’re seconds away from crashing into a brick wall.

Cleanthes: While your description flirts with morbidity, Demea, I totally see where you are coming from. That being said, I gotta say, I really prefer the image of Misery Index’s death metal as a monolith that is almost completely ambivalent to its environment. One might even go so far as to describe it as ‘god-like.’

At this Philo grins, bemused.

Demea: Oh don’t start that again.

Philo: (laughing almost indiscernibly) What do you mean, Cleanthes?

Cleanthes: It was just a turn of phrase. However, it does make one wonder, from where do albums such as these come?

Demea: Ha! Well it seems clear to me, that it’s simply a step in the long path of death and grind, albeit an excellent one. The existence of this album must surely have a cause, and from there we can induct that the cause of this album must itself have had a cause. Along this path we might trace all the way back through contemporaries like Dying Fetus to the first cause which one assumes is Morbid Angel. Or God.

Philo: So, you contend that in approaching perfection, Misery Index has proven the existence of God? Wouldn’t we assume that if Morbid Angel were involved, and that they were as omnibenevolent, omniscient, and omnipotent as Cleanthes would have us believe, wouldn’t this album be entirely perfect? There are surely flaws, you must both concede. I don’t think tracing backwards would necessarily prove the existence of Morbid Angel. Everybody talks about Altars of Madness, but does anyone actually have a copy?

Demea: Of course, I mean, some might say that the full on brutality, and it’s refusal to let up for more than a moment or two, makes it less appealing to more general audiences, thus detracting from it’s ‘perfection’ in the strictest sense.

Cleanthes: But of course, death metal isn’t really meant to appeal to general audiences.

Demea: Yeah yeah, you know what I mean. And to be frank, I kind of like that it’s a 30 ish minute long head rush. I suppose some might complain about the political content they sometimes emphasize, some might say, over-emphasize.

Cleanthes: I think though, Demea, your discordance with your first point illustrates precisely how “perfection” is a less than effective method for measuring an album’s relation to Morbid Angel. Perfection, to anyone but Morbid Angel, who we presume are above and beyond our mental processes, is subjective.

Philo: Yes, but subjectivity is objective.

At this, they all laugh.

Cleanthes: But seriously. Look at it this way, if we come at from a strictly a posteriori perspective, we have experienced this album as excellent. We have experienced it as ordered. I mean, listen to the little drum solos in “Day of the Dead.” It’s a complexity that I’m not willing to believe could be created spontaneously. It seems to me that the unavoidable conclusion is that they were designed by some intelligent entity, which I would say is pretty clearly Morbid Angel. It is undoubtedly a part of the death metal tradition, and I think we can safely say that anyone who likes death metal, or metal in general for that matter, would find at least something to like in this album. Think of it like a cake. The finished product is very clearly the product of some mind, in the case of the cake it’s the baker. Is it possible that sheer chance brought together flour, sugar, and eggs? Or, when we speak of this album, the cogent division of tracks, the excellent heavy but not too muddy guitar tone, and the ridiculously meaty drum sound, must necessarily, it would seem, be the product of some mind that is beyond our immediate comprehension.

Philo: Ok. There are a ridiculous number of problems with what you’re arguing here, except for one thing. What you said about “Day of the Dead” is spot on, if I had to pick, I would say it’s the best song on the record.

Demea: Agreed.

Philo: First of all, I take issue with your assertion that because the album is ordered it must be the product of a mind. No matter how complex something is I can’t believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that random occurrences could not have created it. We simply can’t know. As a counter example, have you listened to Merzbow?

Demea: Holy Morbid Angel, that Merzbow stuff sounds like total nonsense, but I have no doubt that guy is planning it out. Or rather, it’s very clear that a mind created it. To sort of build on what you were saying Philo, I think it’s basically impossible to say through your argument that the album was created by any one deity, be that Morbid Angel or otherwise. I suppose your cake analogy doesn’t really support my contention, but it seems to me that making an album is more comparable to a construction project. A construction project requires a lot of people. So, if anything, your teleological argument implies a number of constructing deities. Like Morbid Angel, Dying Fetus, maybe even Black Sabbath.

Philo: Or for that matter, a bunch of dudes from Maryland named Jason Netherton, Sparky Voyles, Matt Kloeppel, and Adam Jarvis.

Demea: What?

Philo: Nevermind. But seriously, Cleanthes, this whole “intelligent creator” thing is pretty nonsensical. If I’m being real, I don’t really find your argument for any sort of ultimate creator very compelling.

Demea: You could say that the phrase “Morbid Angel exists” is a sort of synthetic a priori that somehow is known as true.

Philo: No you can’t!

Cleanthes: I have had about enough of your puns.

Demea: Ok, ok. But seriously. We know it’s synthetic because nothing about “Morbid Angel” implies that the concept of existence resides therein. But we could say that it is a sort of trueism…

Cleanthes: Yes! Yes!

Demea: But, big but here, there really isn’t a legitimate rational path one could follow to undeniably imply that Morbid Angel was involved in the creation of this album. Unless you maybe accept the first cause thing I mentioned earlier, which I imagine you have more than a few reservations about.

Cleanthes: Yeah, I do. Oh Morbid Angel I’m tired, I’m thinking about heading home. But I have one last question for you guys, doesn’t it bother you to think that maybe this album has no origin. Doesn’t it somehow cheapen it a little for you, or minimize the purpose? If it isn’t rocking for the one true Morbid Angel, doesn’t it just feel like a waste of time.

Demea: Frankly, no. Where this new Misery Index record came from isn’t really important to me. What is important is the half hour of sheer awesome brutality. When a death metal album is this all evenelopingly terrific, I don’t care where it came from.

Philo: Seconded. When you’re in the thick of it, I’d like to believe nothing but the immediate music matters. (Looking at his watch) Well, I must be off, it has indeed gotten late. An excellent discussion my friends.

The men go their separate ways.