Live from the Calvary that is Coachella, welcome to this Pop Communion that is The Cure …
Feels, on, reals.
So it is and, again, here we are… and #againagain I don’t really know where to begin or end with this one as again again again there is no beginning or end to the perpetual Pascha that is “The Cure.” I still haven’t figured it out yet, but I enjoy musing in the meantime… #fortherecord #noneofthisisbinding #itsalljustmakebelieve #dontciteme
On the seventh day, Gaga had finished this work of creation, so she put to rest this Famous curse…
So, “The Cure.” I guess, broadly, briefly, it feels like… surrendering into the unknown abyss after a forty-day desert trek, only to find… that the hard-fought rock bottom was but a bridge, all along, before that luminous cloud rocket number nine.
The Past Tense Rewind
So, in this going-on seventh (eighth?) annual progressive cycle in literary association with a one said aforementioned Lady, I’ve learned something (just one something, no need for greed), “This” in all its “Thisness” has always, is always, and will always be happening in increasing measure well into the foreseeable future. While I have yet to identify the source of this odd compulsion to narrate creative works which are, by definition, already complete narratives; I exist with the knowledge that said compulsion will kick-in upon each and every Gaga release –– so why fight it? #hookahsnotbazookas I don’t always have the time, energy, or resources to make proper sense of existing narratives which, again, were published with enough existing sensibility to render any further commentary moot, unnecessary, and quite frankly, distracting; but again, the music marketplace didn’t ask Gallop to poll me on my feelings, and the internet doesn’t recognize expression or human existence unless translated into code and content; so, that said: *gestures toward face* this is me caring, and *places fingers back on keys* this is me continuing.
#imaginaryreadersayswhat “Oh, wow:” #translation ▼
Now then, where were we supposed to be… right, so, “The Cure” within the historical literary context of Lady Gaga’s existing zeitgeist anthology / pop biography. So, Catholics and Pop acolytes have much in common #shockofallshocks, not the least of which being a fervent allegiance to the magnanimity of ritual, the experiential translation of alchemical mystery; and that fundamentally –– beyond mere Genesis, Nativity and Passion –– we (yes, I am a part and parcel of all both within said “we”) are natural-born Easter People. And “This” in all its “Thisness,” that is The Cure, is nothing more and never anything less than the Paschal Gospel’s Contemporary Record
In a nutshell, The Cure’s world release reads like whatever Easter means to a displaced group of Millennial anybodies who happened to follow a certain frequency to the California desert by way of caravan scene or computer screen.