Tuesday, December 23, 2025
Why is the universe here? Why not? I can’t get a straight answer. But, that’s the point.
The point of existence is to exist. In the realm of existence, living is purely of and for itself. This is true of music. Music serves no purpose. It’s meaningful, but it doesn’t mean anything. It communicates without having anything specific to say. Inferior music tries to say something – like program music. It tries to convey specificity. Superior music is abstract and is a transliteration of wordlessness. It’s mysteriously meaningful, which is to say it’s meaningless, leaving indelible impressions.
If music had a point, then it would be a specific location in the score specifying the most or least important element. The beginning, the end, the climax? If music’s purpose was to “get there,” fastest would be best. Is it the orgasm? Please. Is the lead up, the wind up, or the pitch? Please. Is the release? Please. Is it the tension? Please. Is it the repeat with variation? Please. Another go? Oh yes.
Music emerges from the background and disappears instantaneously. It goes down the toilet before you can catch it. Find the purpose! How could you? The menacing effects of its disappearance keep you wanting more. The meaning is sublimity, especially deeply conceived music like Bach. Bach’s music meanders and wanders aimlessly. No point. No purpose. Pure decadence. More please. Oh yes.
Could living be so purposeless? As soon as you drop the search for finding your so-called purpose you’ll see the meaninglessness, which brings on its full meaning. In the same way you see music, engage with being alive. Engage with music-making, and it will forever change you. Engage with “love making” and it will forever change you. It’s invigorating to be purposeless, to be in love for no reason at all. How meaningful! Oh yes. Another go? Please.