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Hallelujah, Sunday With Football and Saint Bernadette

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Got invited to a Superbowl Party. I'm not really a big fan of Superbowl Parties. However, after listening to Leonard Cohen I think I'll go.


Leonard Cohen by

Contemplating football and the stories of Sunday on this Superbowl Sunday. Leonard Cohen's unmistakably familiar wool bandaged, gravelly, sacramental growl came a callin' out of Pandora, smoothly and seductively, rockin' and rollin' -- all the evil and sublime in the world, turned loose or ameliorated by living and lusting after sweet carnal feeling and spiritual love.

The Canadian Jew Buddhist riffing on King David, Bathsheba, lovemaking and the transcendence of dogma -- the oneness of the "holy or the broken hallelujah." A Catholic priest once said to me, "The spiritual can be dirty or impolite." I wasn't totally sure of this until I became aware of the paintings of Basquiat, remembering Lenny Bruce's autobiography.

The recognition of beauty in whichever religion, the ability to deny casual judgment and revel in the story, the imagery, the profundity laced amongst the legalities and fluff is a gift to one's self. Cohen is a secular contemplative in a dark fedora holding church in concert halls. He's selling your forgiveness of me and my desire for you, contradictions and mountains of guilt and rancor made flat and easy like his voice. The Canadian Jew Buddhist looked us right in the eye and wrote a song about one of the religious beatified, a love song unapologetic in its sweetness. Check it out: Click Well, I'm off to watch the Superbowl -- think I'll suspend judgment this afternoon and luxuriate in the beer, the wings and the friends, especially the friends, "like Bernadette would do."


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Kevin is (writing about yourself in the third person (illeism) is a trip) an artist/writer/carpenter and frustrated songwriter living in Johnson City, Texas. His latest frustrating songwriting attempt is titled, "I Touched the Hand That Touched (more...)

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