It’s been a musical week here at The Portly Politico, so I figured, “why stop now?”
I’ve dedicated more and more space on the blog to musical and cultural matters, especially in the last year. Among the posts I most enjoy writing—and of which I am most proud—are those I write about music.
This week’s TBT feature, “Music Among the Stars,” is one I really enjoy, and I think (humbly) it’s one of my better posts. It’s about the golden records aboard the Voyager I space probe, and about the true purpose of music—to worship God.
I’ll let the essay speak for itself. Here is 8 September 2021’s “Music Among the Stars“:
Back in 1977, NASA launched Voyager I, which is some 14 million miles from Earth. The super nerds behind the mission stowed two golden records on board. Those golden records included various selections to represent life on Earth, from “Johnny B. Goode” to nature sounds to classical music.
Over the Labor Day weekend a colleague e-mailed me Classical Archives‘ weekend newsletter, which includes some musings about why humans developed the ability to create—and their interest in—music. The newsletter features the blog posts “Can E.T. Carry a Tune?” and “Music for Extraterrestrials… Sampling the Music Selected for NASA’s Voyager I.”
The former explores the possible deep origins of humanity’s music-making abilities. It posits several theories developed from evolutionary biology. As a Christian, I find these explanations ultimately wanting, though they each make interesting points (the second proposed theory, for example, suggests “that music arose because it was a social glue that helped our ancestors bond with one another and with a group”). Music serves many purposes, even if those purposes are not strictly utilitarian (and even then music can serve that function, such as coordinating workers’ movements via work songs).
Chiefly, though, music is intended to praise God. Like the other arts, music is God’s grant of a small sliver of His Creative potential to His Creation—Tolkien’s “sub-creation” of Middle Earth serving as a prime literary example. The highest form of musical expression, then, lifts up songs of praise to God.
A brief personal anecdote on that point, as an aside: my niece has begun experimenting with the piano, and possesses a very strong ear (which she comes by genetically—we’re a very musical family). She can play a number of tunes by ear. One day, however, she was at the piano, doing what young children often do—playing around with different notes in an atonal aplomb. She then turned to us and said, “I play some songs for God, and some for Jesus, but that song was for God and Jesus.” Surely God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit savored the childlike faith and praise of that noisome tinkling more than any overwrought power ballad.
The real highlight of the newsletter was the playlist of classical works, recordings of which can be found at Classical Archives (or, if not the same versions as are found on the distant, irretrievable Voyager discs, then similar ones). The great composer Johann Sebastian Bach alone garners four tracks—appropriate, given that Bach, as a church organist, frequently wrote for the glory of God.
Aliens may or may not exist; if they do, chances seem infinitely small that they will ever stumble upon these gold records (although I like to imagine an alien picking up his space phone, calling his cousin, and saying, “Hey, Breezlebraxmagidthorpe, you know that new sound you been lookin’ for? Well listen to this!” while Chuck Berry jams out “Johnny B. Goode”).
But God does exist, and He hears it all. Let’s lift up songs of praise—even atonal ones—to Him.
The Portly Politico 
Good music comes from the soul, from the heart. One piece that betrays that so beautifully is Clair de Lune (Debussy). It breaks my heart every time I listen to it.
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I LOVE _Clair de Lune_. Really, just about anything from Debussy.
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Portrays not betrays – I was writing another post for something else.
Jeez, where’s the edit button when you want it? 🙂
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The lack of an edit button symbolizes a stark portrayal of betrayal.
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🙂 🙂 🙂
The pub meet went well by the way. We had a really good time. That said, I had a sirloin that would make any Englishman weep and every American salivating. I’ve never seen anything that big on a plate! My stomach ached just looking at it.
I think next time we go, I’ll be ordering something else. 🙂
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Glad to hear it was a success! That sounds like my kind of steak. I love a big, thick sirloin.
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Salivate not salivating. I really must learn to read the comment before I click post. I’m a tool sometimes.
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I don’t think you’d have liked this one. Tasty, yes, but the sort that if you knew beforehand the size, you’d have gone without eating for 3 days just to fit it in. Needless to say, I ate about a third of it, floody had a chunk and the rest, I presume, went to their dogs. I reckon their dogs will look like horses when we return.
I’m going to continue to put out invitations for each one despite them not getting a great deal of traction. Quite a few commenters seemed keen when I originally broached it but seem quite reticent now. I have no idea why but we’ll see if the numbers pick up in the future.
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Hah! One of the places I buy steak from has a 48 oz USDA Prime dry-aged Porterhouse on offer. Needs only a 2lb baked potato and a couple ears of sweet corn to make a satisfying meal – for an NFL tackle, not me, these days. 🙂
Glad it went well, and that’s why we invented \doggie bags’ not that we’d give that good a steak to a dog, we’d eat it ourselves.
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Oooooh, baby… I’ve never had the guts (or funds) to order such a huge steak, but I want to someday.
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Yeah, back in the day, I could have gotten it down, especially during high school football, but couldn’t have dreamed of the money it cost. Now I could maybe wing it (I’ve got some Bidenbucks left) but I’d just cut it in at least five pieces now.
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You underestimate my love—or is it lust?—for steak. I wrote a whole (paywalled) post about it: https://theportlypolitico.com/2021/07/06/magaweek2021-red-meat/
That’s kind of how those things go: a surge of upfront interest, followed by last-minute regrets. I get it: it sounds great at first, and might still be appealing come the evening of, but the couch at home is pretty appealing, too.
Keep at it. If it becomes a regular thing, you’ll get more folks to come out—or settle into a good consistent group.
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