My New Music

So I know that this is somewhat way off-base, but since this is a class about Art and this is a piece of Art (or I guess I will let you all decide), I figured the connection was worth it. This is my page at Reverbnation and you can also find me on Facebook. I am trying to promote my music, so check it out if you want and if you are so inclined, become a fan and share it with your friends on facebook! I hope you guys like it!

http://www.reverbnation.com/allijahmotika#!

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Allijah-Motika/124462437625190?sk=app_2405167945

-Allijah

Post Modern Dance Movement

After I saw Alijah’s essay on John Cage, I scrapped my original idea and decided to write an essay on one of my favorite choreographers, a constant collaborator with Cage, Merce Cunningham.

Merce Cunningham set the stage for post modern dance and choreography with something he called Chance Operations. The idea is that choreography, music, architecture (set), costume, etc. should be performed simultaneously, but they should be created separately from each other. Most choreographers find a music selection they like and choreograph with the music. Cunningham, instead, would choreograph an entire piece and add music later that, say, Cage composed separately. Cunningham also enjoyed working with alternatives to music (as is seen in this video). He would often have his performers dancing to talking or machine sound effects or even silence!

Merce Cunningham, sometimes, didn't even need people to choreograph dances! He used a computer program called DanceForms. This allowed him to manipulate his dances in private before revealing the finished piece to them at rehearsal.

My favorite part of Cunningham’s Chance Operations is ‘moves from a hat’. Merce Cunningham would literally write down several isolated dance moves (ex. Head roll, arabesque, pique, jette, etc) and place them in a bag or hat. He would then draw one move at a time to create a sequence for his performer. Usually it worked. The worst that happened is he would have to revise the dance.

This unusual style of dance is classified under the Post Modern Dance Movement. While it is very obvious that the performers in this video are ‘dancing’ and we are assured that this dance requires talent to perform, how much of the Post Modern Dance Movement can actually be considered dance? Many post modern choreographers will tell you that any form of movement is a form of dance. If you can find a beat or rhythm to your movements, then you are dancing! According to this, I am dancing even as I type this essay because I am typing in rhythm (albeit an uneven one) and one could even say that there is an artistic flow as my fingers flit across the keyboard. As you sit reading this essay, you too are dancing in your own way. Can we really expand dancing so far as to say simply moving is dancing? The argument for this idea asks one to define dance. An artistic form of non-verbal communication that relays some sort of emotion or idea. Where does that require any talent? In that sense, any movement with an emotion or idea behind it is, indeed dance.

But, now we must ask, is it art? I like to think that art requires a certain superiority, an idea that not everyone can create art. Anyone can play the violin. Not everyone can create art with a violin (poor violin playing is my own personal Hell). Where do the masses and the golden few meet? Is art inherent or learned? These questions, I suppose will be answered in full in class, but let me conclude this “bajumble” of ideas by suggesting that, yes movement is dance. And yes, anyone can dance. No, not everyone can dance artistically.

What Is Music?

So I know, here I go again with another performance piece. I keep talking about how much I like visual art and art history and I promise I'll get there in one of my following blog posts.
For this post though, I focus on music; or more abstractly silence. What is silence? Is it the absence of sound, or is it music that is free from human control? To try to help answer this question I look to the highly controversial 20th century composer John Cage.
One of his most famous pieces is entitled 4'33'', which stands for four minutes and thirty-three seconds. This piece (comprised of three movements) is based around the idea that no intentional sound is made for four minutes and thirty-three seconds. Some might view this as four and a half minutes of silence. Cage viewed it as four and a half minutes of music, free from manipulation. He wanted the piece to be "free of [his] own likes and dislikes, because...music should be free of the feelings and ideas of the composer." The piece is written for "any instrument or combination of instruments" although it has been traditionally performed on piano. Some may view this as ironic because the instruments themselves make no noise.
The purpose of the 4'33'' is for the audience to focus on the sounds of the environment around them. It also conveys that silence does not truly exist because there is always sound (and in turn music) even though it may not be actively created by musicians. After the premiere of the piece this is what Cage had to say about it:

"They missed the point. There’s no such thing as silence. What they thought was silence, because they didn’t know how to listen, was full of accidental sounds. You could hear the wind stirring outside during the first movement. During the second, raindrops began pattering the roof, and during the third the people themselves made all kinds of interesting sounds as they talked or walked out."

One of the most brilliant conductors that I have sung under, Dr. David Connell, always stressed the importance of a rest in music. He made sure that we understood that without perfectly measured silence there could not be perfectly measured sound. This was when I attended Governor's School West as a Choral student. That is also the same place that I learned about John Cage and in one of my classes, not in choir! In class we performed our own version of 4'33'' by simply sitting in our chairs and listening to the sounds around us. At the time I was unsure of how valid I thought John Cage was, but as I have grown as a person and musician I've come to learn what he was talking about. I hear music everywhere, and (although kind of cheesy, and loosely quoted from the movie August Rush) I truly do believe that music is a harmonic connection between all living beings, even the music that can be heard in silence. I hear it in the leaves shaking, cars braking, bells chiming, everywhere. I hope that some of you already have similar experiences or after thinking more about 4'33'' will have some!

On a kinda different note - I'll leave you with a fun fact, a great quote from Cage, a performance of the piece, and a website if you want to look into it more

Fun Fact: John Cage was a teacher for a few years (I had trouble finding the exact dates) at Black Mountain College which was founded in 1933 and closed in 1956. The school was focused on "education in a democracy" and was very progressive. Its philosophy was similar to what is now our liberal arts college in that it believed creative arts and "practical responsibilities" were equally important in the growth of intellect. The school housed many revolutionary, influential, and incredibly controversial teachers such as Cage. That's only the background info, but the fun fact is that the campus for the school from 1941 until its closing was on Lake Eden which is now the site for the Lake Eden Arts Festival (LEAF) that is held twice a year and is about 30 minutes from Asheville. I have been going to that festival since I was 5 years old probably and it's very cool that such an influential and inspiring musician could have been housed on those same grounds!

Great Quote: "When I hear what we call music, it seems to me that someone is talking. And talking about his feelings, or about his ideas of relationships. But when I hear traffic, the sound of traffic—here on Sixth Avenue, for instance—I don't have the feeling that anyone is talking. I have the feeling that sound is acting. And I love the activity of sound [...] I don't need sound to talk to me." -I thought this was a really cool addition to the concept behind 4'33''

Here is one performance:

And here is where I got a lot of my info for it: http://solomonsmusic.net/4min33se.htm#Composition

Hope you all enjoy!

-Allijah

Idea Essay #1: Is Photography Art?

Man invented this apparatus which put the portrait painter out of business. Instead of a subject sitting for hours, they pose once and in a matter of seconds their portrait is complete. Okay, maybe a little bit longer for those nostalgic polaroid people. But for the majority of humanity, photography has reduced the act of creating an image to pushing a button on a machine. Wait about 5 more minutes and your pictures appear on your computer screen. So, heres the question. Is photography really art? Is an image that took, lets say 2 hours to create (1 hour photo is not always reliable) really an art form? Can it be ranked with the canvases of Picasso or the music of Debussy or the works of Michelangelo? Where does photography lie in the spectrum of art?

If you boil it down, photography is a moment of reality captured as a still image. To some theorists, this would be the ultimate art form. As long as the camera isn’t set to any crazy settings that distort proportions or turn the sky purple, photography is the epitome of mimetic art. There are, however, many ways in which photography can be manipulated to create different effects. With software like photoshop an image can be altered to show almost anything imaginable. And all photo software comes with tools that can change the tint, sharpness, brightness etc... of the images. Many times photos don’t even originate in mimesis. Some photographers set their cameras to take pictures which reflect reality, while others use shutter speed and aperture settings to alter the appearance of the image as it is being captured. One of my favorite types of photography is black and white photography, which is definitely not an accurate portrayal of reality.

But is mimesis really the point of art? In my opinion, if you want to look at reality, just look at reality. What is the point of art which only shows you what you can already see? Art should reveal deeper truths about life. It should move the viewer emotionally or mentally. Like other art, photography has this capability. When I look at the photography of Ansel Adams I am moved by the grand scale and beauty of the landscape images he captured. His images are just photos of places like the Grand Canyon and Yosemite, but he manages to find proper angles, lighting and viewpoints to make his images powerful.

For example, here’s a photograph I took of the Grand Canyon:



And here’s a shot Ansel Adams took of the Grand Canyon.



The difference in the impact of the images is striking. My photo is just that, a photograph. It shows you what I saw in front of me but it doesn’t have any emotional impact. His image is art. There is a power and grandeur in his image that is incredibly difficult to capture.

Photography may seem like an easy art form that any one can contribute to. But good photography takes hard work and patience, just like any other art form. These artists sit outside for hours in one spot to find the perfect lighting, take and develop thousands of shots, and search for hours to find the perfect angles. Photography is not as easy as many people believe it to be and it has the ability to show us true reality in ways other art can’t, while provoking thought and emotion.

Some thoughts on success and artistic integrity

How do you define success in the art world? In my opinion, success is ultimately defined by one's own terms. It's up to the individual. For example, some bands want to sell a million records and others are happy with just getting their music out there and heard by somebody. I don't think there is anything wrong with either of those viewpoints. However, what I do think is wrong is creating "art" in which the sole purpose is to make money i.e. achieve commercial success. The motivation to create art should come from within. It should be something the artist is driven to do no matter what the consequences may be. Achieving commercial success should not be the driving force behind creating the art. With that being said, I don't think there is anything wrong with achieving commercial success with art. I believe artists do deserve to monetize their art, but figuring out how to make money from the art should come after the art has been created, not the other way around.

There is certainly no formula or way to predict which works of art will stand the test of time, but I don’t know how it would be possible to achieve longevity without the artistic integrity I’ve mentioned above. There are always people trying to make a quick buck off of the next fad or trend, but most products of such efforts are merely a flash in the pan, here today and gone tomorrow. Most are disingenuous and beyond the immediate satisfaction it may bring the consumer, there is nothing below the surface, because the "artist" has bastardized their art simply to serve a target market. I realize that this very thing happens all the time (insert your favorite candy coated, radio ready pop star here) and some are able to make enough money off that limited shelf life to never have to work again, but that doesn't change the fact that it is fundamentally wrong in my book. I think the Mona Lisas of the world connect with audiences on a much deeper level than anything contrived would ever be capable of, and therefore, such works are capable of transcending cultural and generational boundaries.

Lucid Dreaming

Some people say that they get their inspiration from their dreams. The ordinary person can't control when they have an inspirational dream, or even when they remember their dreams. The ordinary person can't, but a lucid dreamer can. The idea of lucid dreaming comes from the desire to have control over an experience that may not happen in an ordinary lifetime. Lucid dreaming, or conscious dreaming, is when you know that you are dreaming and can control the events that happen within your dream. It gives you the ability to explore your creative mind and utilize it in ways you literally can only imagine. Lucid dreams give you the opportunity to live out your most far-fetched fantasies, practice important life situations such as giving a speech, and help stop nightmares. They also can be used for personal or spiritual exploration, and have a very strong connection to aesthetics. With that said, can lucid dreaming be considered "art?"

The imagination is a powerful thing, and without it, there would be no means for creativity. Albert Einstein once said, "Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand." With the use of our imagination, we are able to create a better world, and use our minds at their greatest capacity. Our imagination is essentially the base of our creativity, and it is always important to put it to use. Lucid dreaming is an incredible phenomenon that is a great way to get intact with your inner creative mind. It is a skill that can be learned with diligence and discipline and is a great way to work the brain while sleeping. A lucid dreamer can explore worlds beyond their wildest dreams by tapping into that inner creativity. If you can imagine it, then you can literally make yourself dream something completely out of the realm of this world, and that in itself is what makes this idea so potentially aesthetically pleasing.

Aesthetics deals with the nature and expression of beauty, and people have the ability to actually go in their mind and create something completely out of this world. Lucid dreamers can express themselves in ways that they may not have the talent for in "the real world," and may be inspired to cultivate a skill that would aid them in creating a mastered work of "art." An artist might use lucid dreaming to create a surreal piece of art. Surrealism is a more modern artistic movement that attempts to express subconscious thoughts and is characterized by fantastic imagery and incongruence juxtaposition of subject matter (Thefreedictionary.com). Because this movement taps into the subconscious mind, learning the skill of lucid dreaming would be very beneficial to an artist who wants to create something surreal. The artist could create anything he or she thought of, and by living the experience within his or her dreams gives that artist an advantage to create something deeper and more creative than an artist who creates something by just thinking about it.

Creating something unreal that just doesn't seem to make sense unless you take time to think about it for a while is not easy. Surrealists, like Salvador Dali, have the ability and opportunity to not only think about their subconscious and create something based off of that, but go inside of it and explore it in order to create a work of art that is filled with details and is extremely dynamic by learning to lucid dream.

Idea Essay #1: On Self-Referentiality

A few weeks ago, I was struck by this line in the NYT review of the ballet movie "Black Swan":  

"It’s easy to read “Black Swan” as a gloss on the artistic pursuit of the ideal."

The bulk of the review does not focus on this comment and instead discusses the film in other terms, particularly its focus on insanity and sexuality (and ballet itself).  But when I first read the review, this statement made me consider how often I interpret specific works of art to be saying something about Art itself, and how quickly I pick up on this critical-interpretative move when others use it.  

In these kinds of readings, texts are, in other words, allegorical stories about their own status or power. I don't know if this way of (my way of) thinking about art is a result of a certain kind of critical background, one steeped in the obsessions of twentieth century art, or if art-texts (music, painting, poetry, etc.) really do have a habit of speaking about their own status and use as human creations.  In short, do all artistic objects in some way talk about themselves as art?  And, when they do, what ideas are they trying to convey or capture? Perhaps I can get at this issue by discussing a few examples.

Here's a song, called "The First Line," that I happened to hear a couple of weeks ago.  Listen to the first few lines.  This sort of self-referentially, joking in this case even though the song is pleasant if not beautiful, is NOT what I'm trying to get to the heart of in this post.  Here's a more famous example:

We all came out to Montreux
On the Lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didn't have much time
Frank Zappa and the Mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground

If you don't know what (famous) song this is yet, listen here and you'll recognize it pretty quickly.  And if you have time, note how this version plays with audience expectations with a long and unrecognizable intro.  So -- both of these songs talk about themselves as songs.  But I'm after a different sort of self-referentiality.   


Here's another song -- "Slow Turning" by John Hiatt --  that does perform the operation that I'm interested in:

When I was a boy,
I thought it just came to you
But I never could tell what's mine
So it didn't matter anyway

My only pride and joy
Was this racket down here
Banging on an old guitar
And singin' what I had to say

I always thought our house was haunted
Cuz nobody said "boo" to me
I never did get what I wanted
But now I get what I need

It's been a slow turning
From the inside out
A slow turning
But you come about

A slow learning
But you learn to sway-ah-hay-hay-hay
A slow turning, baby
Not fade away, not fade away, not fade away

Now I'm in my car
Ooh, I got the radio on
Now I'm yellin' at the kids in the back
Cuz they're banging like Charlie Watts

You think you've come so far
In this one horse town
Then she's laughing that crazy laugh
Cuz you haven't left the parkin' lot

Time is short and here's the damn thing about it
You're gonna die, gonna die for sure
**And you can learn to LIVE with love or without it
But there ain't no cure

It's just a slow turning
From the inside out
A slow turning
But you come about, ya

A slow turning, baby
But you learn to sway-ah-hay-hay-hay
A slow turning
Not fade away, not fade away, not fade away
Not fade away, not fade away

A slow turning, a slow turning,
A slow turning, a slow turning

I think this is a (self-referential) song about how an artist has used art (bangin on an old guitar) to give shape to his life, give it a direction or purpose.  Ultimately, though, he realizes that another part of experience (he didn't get what he wanted from his music, but he now gets what he needs -- love and family) is more important.   Turning from the "inside out" encourages him (and us?) to forsake the notion that art is about one's interior self or soul.  An artist's life (or a life with art) is about some other kind of relationship, the kind that doesn't mind the "one-horse" town or that getting stuck -- with the kids -- in the parking lot.  It's not by accident that this artist is no longer worried about "fading away," the fear that haunts The Who's great song, "My Generation" and its most famous line, "Hope I die before I get old."  This is a song that emphasizes the mundane and domestic world that is outside the artistic life.   In terms of our class, its about how pragmatics (the ways we live our lives) are more important than the expressive power of art or a formalist concern for art itself.  [Note: take a look at this video for the song if you have a minute; I can't make any connection between the song and the narrative created by the film, but this is the (better) studio version of the song.]

Here's one last example (which I won't explicate), a poem by Yeats, that moves in pretty much the opposite direction, from a critique of art's obsession with itself (Artist = Narcissus) to a rhapsody about a real aesthetic experience (in Kant's sense of what really counts):

"Lapis Lazuli" by WB Yeats (1939)

(For Harry Clifton)

I have heard that hysterical women say
They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow.
Of poets that are always gay,
For everybody knows or else should know
That if nothing drastic is done
Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out.
Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in
Until the town lie bearen flat.

All perform their tragic play,
There struts Hamlet, there is Lear,
That's Ophelia, that Cordelia;
Yet they, should the last scene be there,
The great stage curtain about to drop,
If worthy their prominent part in the play,
Do not break up their lines to weep.
They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay;
Gaiety transfiguring all that dread.
All men have aimed at, found and lost;
Black out; Heaven blazing into the head:
Tragedy wrought to its uttermost.
Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages,
And all the drop-scenes drop at once
Upon a hundred thousand stages,
It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce.

On their own feet they came, or On shipboard,'
Camel-back; horse-back, ass-back, mule-back,
Old civilisations put to the sword.
Then they and their wisdom went to rack:
No handiwork of Callimachus,
Who handled marble as if it were bronze,
Made draperies that seemed to rise
When sea-wind swept the corner, stands;
His long lamp-chimney shaped like the stem
Of a slender palm, stood but a day;
All things fall and are built again,
And those that build them again are gay.

Two Chinamen, behind them a third,
Are carved in lapis lazuli,
Over them flies a long-legged bird,
A symbol of longevity;
The third, doubtless a serving-man,
Carries a musical instmment.

Every discoloration of the stone,
Every accidental crack or dent,
Seems a water-course or an avalanche,
Or lofty slope where it still snows
Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch
Sweetens the little half-way house
Those Chinamen climb towards, and I
Delight to imagine them seated there;
There, on the mountain and the sky,
On all the tragic scene they stare.
One asks for mournful melodies;
Accomplished fingers begin to play.
Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes,
Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.

I love this poem.  But, of these two stories and their two different ethical outlooks, I have to side with "Slow Turning."  And, besides, it's a great song.

Defining Art

What is art anyway? Garry Willis delivers in his column a number of possible definitions for art and their weaknesses. The concept of defining art stretches back through history, touching on Aristotle's desire to categorize tragedy and Kant's claims that the purpose of art is purposelessness. It seems that many have a desire to classify art, label it neatly, put it in a neatly numbered box and set up a sliding scale of criteria to determine its value. Plato spoke of counting and quantifying being the saviors of rational thought, and who would argue against thought?

A part of the problem is that many who are critical of a work of art often try to claim that as it is not "insert your objection of choice here" then it is not art. How many times has this pattern appeared? Artists, writers, or muscians would push forward with a "new" sort of art. It would break the traditions of what was considered art is that year and would not be "art". Time would pass and the public would grow accustomed to it, it become part of the culture. Who today wants to talk about how they despise Impressionist artists? But how frequently were they criticized and considered not excepted parts of the artistic community? Is art just what the public believes to be art? Is what is considered great art just what has lasted long enough to become ingrained in culture?

That leads to the question of whether art can be defined as art by its quality is only good art "art"? Would you consider the scribbles a two year old makes with a sharpie more or less artistic than similar scribbles made with black oil paint by an adult? Why? Is it the shape of the lines, or the ideas that provoked them? Is this two year old's creation art? There must be a measure. Early Christian writers used morals as a measuring stick for good or bad art. Plato measured the value of art in terms of its didactic uses. If one claims that purposelessness is a requirement for art, as Kant did, then I suddenly have a handcrafted Cherokee basket in desperate need of a classification. Where on this list of classifications does one place graffiti, it has no practical purpose and most claim it is a form of expression, but it is also often random and illegal, so is it art or not? Or is it art but simply unusual art or some would say bad art?

The question becomes even more muddled when one adds the question of truth, the relationship between art and accuracy. Does this art truly show reality as it is? Do we want it to? Must a painter who likes to paint bees also raise them and show them as they are? Or is it better for him to paint the bees plodding along in a city in order to show his belief about human cities?

My measuring stick for whether art is good or bad or even truly art was made for an American born in 1992. I will define art, good and bad, as an American born in 1992. So is it art or not? Check your measure, and look at its year.

Idea Essay #1 Bug Art

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/08/17/AR2007081700603.html

Steven R. Kutcher uses insects such as flies, cockroaches, and beetles to create his pieces of art. He takes the insects into his hands, dips their feet into paint, and forces them to walk around on his canvases. By doing this, he creates something that Kutcher believes is art. Should this be considered Kutcher’s artwork, or the insects?

The linked article describes artist Steven R. Kutcher and how he has worked as an insect wrangler for Hollywood films such as “Arachnophobia” and “Spiderman”. The article also labels him as an environmentalist and explains how he influences the bugs to move the ways he wants them too.

He dips the insects into water-based, nontoxic paints that can easily be washed off, and lets them loose onto a prepared canvas. According to the article Kutcher says he takes good care of his little “artists”. He influences where the bugs move by using instruments such as hair dryers, electrical tape, wires, chemical repellents and other form of lights. Some people would argue that these forms of influences are cruel and unnecessary, but Kutcher clearly defends that he takes care of the insects. Therefore, the problem does not lie in whether he is committing animal abuse, but whether this is really his art?

Because Kutcher is not the one actually putting the paint on the canvas, I do not believe that this is his art. However, he argues in the article that he “does inject some human creativity into the works by applying external stimuli to influence his living brushes”. I disagree that his explanation is justified because he cannot fully control every step of an insect. Although he may claim that the bugs express his emotions on the canvas, there is no way to know for sure that the bugs know how he is feeling, and that they can precisely convey his real mind-set. On the other hand, the artwork is not necessarily the insects either because insects lack emotion and self-awareness. As young humans, our mothers and fathers teach us how to draw and how to paint. Bugs do not acquire that skill at any point in their lifespan. In this case, the insects are using instinct to get away from the light, wire, etc. It is not by their own will that they are making these designs and patterns.

Thus, this type of artwork remains trapped between the emotion of the artist and the instinct of the insects. Neither deserves full credit for the beauty of the paintings. But, the artist ends up getting full credit because the insects cannot accept their portion and defend themselves. Art should be a representation of passion and emotion that the artist has for whatever he or she is trying to portray. The article quotes Kutcher, "When an insect walks on your hand, you may feel the legs move but nothing visible remains, only a sensation," he says. "These works of art render the insect tracks and routes visible, producing a visually pleasing piece." Therefore, Kutcher does not control how the bugs walk, but rather where they walk. Furthermore, the insects cannot convey their emotion nor his emotion, so the question remains, whom does this art belong to? I think it doesn't belong to either.

Still Alive

This piece of art is a Typography of the song “Still Alive” by Jonathan Coulton for the video game Portal. Even though the song itself is meant to relate to Portal and what happens in the game, I believe it is trying to portray more than just a game recap. The song is trying to show a relationship between human beings and science.

The first point about science's relationship to people is how it does what it “must” because it can. I find this idea interesting because it comes across as saying that the practice of science cannot be refuted. However, in conjunction with this, the song quickly states that there is indeed some greater good to be had from science, although someone will have to die for science’s sake.

Next, I would like to point out the voice inflections of the singer being that it is so monotone and unfeeling. With the lines “I’m not even angry. I’m being so sincere right now. Even though you broke my heart and killed me” it shows the unfeeling nature of science that doesn’t care for you or itself even. However, this phrase also shows how there is some sort of “loving” relationship going on between science and the person. By turning our back on science and “tearing [it] to pieces” we have “broken its heart”, but at the same time, this is what science thrives on. You can prove science to be wrong, but this only makes science reevaluate itself and produce more sound science.

This all culminates at the end of the song where it says you leave it behind, but it is still alive and will outlive all of us. In the end though, you need science to survive, even when it tries to kill you.

The final point that the song is trying to make is with regards to the cake that is mentioned frequently throughout. The cake is a representation of the perceived good that will come from science at the end of the road. However, once you get there, you find the cake is not for you, and is nothing but a lie.

David Crescenzo