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Loading... Surrender: 40 Songs, One Story (2022)by Bono
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Sign up for LibraryThing to find out whether you'll like this book. No current Talk conversations about this book. A long autobiography thus far of Bonoâs life. Original name: Paul David Hewson. This memoir could have benefited from a major editing job to sharpen it up. But sharp is not what Bono is known for. Heâs known for feeling, and feelings need space to justify themselves and explain Bonoâs opposite feelings described throughout the book. Bono is from Dublin. His father was Catholic, and mother was Protestant, but neither were empathic about practice, he was catechized as a kid at his momâs Protestant church. Later he and the entire band of U2 joined the Shalom group which was apparently a non-charismatic Christian community devoted to living as the early church did. Bono says that he liked Brian Eno who claimed to be an atheist as U2 were also desirous of looking less into the rearview mirror of âIrishnessâ which implied traditional religiosity. Eno had noted elsewhere (in LA Weekly) though that he was encouraged by the nuns in his English Catholic school to pursue art and musical expression and those people were not backward looking. Bono said the group was then in an inquiry period of âmusic, religion, politicsâ and felt empowered to disengage from past patterns and blueprints. They were on the verge of producing The Joshua Tree. The book is a chronology of Bonâs feelings. Some worthy, some unworthy. It leaves the impression of a venting since infancy, and with a final family revelation we see why. Bono tries to clean it up at the end (if you the reader persevered that long) at which point there is finally some welcome self-criticism. However, it may be too late for most readers. The history of his political activism is revolting for the listing of historical figures and failures he tries to curry favor with. I didnât read this book for an accounting of his ideological predilections. In fact, the final chapters of his listing of shortcomings of political posturing add little to the readers power to absolve his narrow dismissal of whatever didnât fit the clichĂŠs he always seemed to expect at every turn. I respect Bono as an artist from a band I have favored for years. In my reading for more than few memoirs from musicians, this book moved me with reservations about Bono personally. Usually memoirs by musicians have been some of favorite books. Midge Ure, If I wasâŚ, Dave Stewart, Sweet Dreams Are Made of This, Conversations with McCartney are a few of my recent worthwhile reads. I am glad to have read this, and I appreciate the effort Bono put into it, but it was not a pleasant experience. I felt lectured to and brow beaten at some point in every chapter. This is hard to imagine for a book of length since it is a long book, as memoirs go. I felt the length showed that Bono was trying give the readers their moneyâs worth. Cillian Murphy is allowed to give one of the few criticisms of Bono in the book. He says that he liked U2âs early work and The Joshua Tree, âbut then I lost youâ. Meaning Cillian likes Bono but had a preference for the early albums over the later productions as more faithful to âIrishnessâ which Murphy shares. Murphy is famous now but was not as well-known just a few years ago. Robert Hilburn from the LA Times is another funny episode. Hilburn is quoted as a supporter of U2 throughout their career. He was. Near the end of his time as a featured music critic he changed and started to criticize U2. He was famous for saying all U2 songs sounded the same. This was obvious and had been said by many people but in the stadium rock establishment it was forbidden to utter this truth in print. Hilburn was let go soon after. In reality, readers of the LA Times had soured of Hilburnâs fluff pieces on Springsteen, U2, Eminem, and The White Stripes. It made me laugh to see Hilburnâs name mentioned, except for the likely past debt reciprocation. Peter Hook mentions that Bono and the band came to see Hook and promised they, U2, would carry on Joy Divisionâs crucial post-Punk legacy. This was after the death Ian Curtis. Hook in his own book said nothing in reply to Bonoâs consoling words except to refer to them collectively as âthe Irish tw@tsâ among the other New Order musicians. Bono leaves out Joy Divisionâs influence almost altogether and says that Patty Smith and the Ramones were the bandâs seminal influences. Bono was happy to move on to other subjects. Bono says that he gave a Steve Jobs a signed copy of Wildeâs âBallad of Reading Gaolâ before Jobs died. That was nice. I wish Bono would have told him to abstain from the New Age witchdoctors and go to see an oncologist. At U2 concert at the Rose Bowl, LA in 2017, Bono said America should let in Syrian refugees. He never made an attempt to get Syrians to go to beautiful Ireland and set up shop in the wide open farmlands or near his coastal home. That was a big strike out. Irish men and women would have loved to have had the Syrians come and play with their kids. The title of Bonoâs book comes from a line in âBadâ a song from the album The Unforgettable Fire. The word âSurrenderâ becomes a concluding refrain as he sums up his life in the final chapters. Other notable Irish musicians are The Cranberries, Enya, The Chieftains, and SinĂŠad OâConnor. Color Photos, Photo collages, No Index, Line drawings by Bono. When you think about, only Bono could have dreamt up a book that is playlist, history, memoir, theology, sketchbook, scribble and more. Paul Kellyâs âHow to make gravyâ is, perhaps, in a similar genre. Bono has gone further. Each of the 40 chapters begins with a U2 song. I chose to put the headphones on and enjoy the music first, then follow with the text. I wanted it to never end. At the end, I felt I really knew the man, his heart, his values, his family, his mates in U2. Fantastic achievement! I loved listening to Bono's voice reading this book. His story has special meaning for me, being from north Dublin and hearing about places I know and his experience in childhood of loss and grief. I also loved hearing about how the band formed and about the other band members and the history of the songs. Bono has done so much in his life and recounted how that came about, the difficulties and his understanding now, looking back, of his own shortcomings as well as his talents. It's a well-written book that had me laughing out loud, singing along and hanging on every word. I thoroughly enjoyed it although I would have liked to hear more songs. I learned a lot about Bono and didn't know how much his faith means to him. In general it was very well done. Definitely a book to listen to rather than read. no reviews | add a review
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HTML:NEW YORK TIMES BEST SELLER â?˘ Bonoâ??artist, activist, and the lead singer of Irish rock band U2â??has written a memoir: honest and irreverent, intimate and profound, Surrender is the story of the remarkable life heâ??s lived, the challenges heâ??s faced, and the friends and family who have shaped and sustained him. â?˘ A VOGUE BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR â??Surrender soars whenever the spotlight comes on. Bono is never more powerful, on the page or the stage, than when he strives for the transcendence that only music can offer...[Bono] is open and honest, with language that can be witty and distinctive, addressing his competitive relationship with his father or growing up against the backdrop of Irelandâ??s political violence.â? â??The New York Times â??When I started to write this book, I was hoping to draw in detail what Iâ??d previously only sketched in songs. The people, places, and possibilities in my life. Surrender is a word freighted with meaning for me. Growing up in Ireland in the seventies with my fists up (musically speaking), it was not a natural concept. A word I only circled until I gathered my thoughts for the book. I am still grappling with this most humbling of commands. In the band, in my marriage, in my faith, in my life as an activist. Surrender is the story of one pilgrimâ??s lack of progress ... With a fair amount of fun along the way.â? â??Bono As one of the music worldâ??s most iconic artists and the cofounder of the organizations ONE and (RED), Bonoâ??s career has been written about extensively. But in Surrender, itâ??s Bono who picks up the pen, writing for the first time about his remarkable life and those he has shared it with. In his unique voice, Bono takes us from his early days growing up in Dublin, including the sudden loss of his mother when he was fourteen, to U2â??s unlikely journey to become one of the worldâ??s most influential rock bands, to his more than twenty years of activism dedicated to the fight against AIDS and extreme poverty. Writing with candor, self-reflection, and humor, Bono opens the aperture on his lifeâ??and the family, friends, and faith that have sustained, challenged, and shaped him. Surrenderâ??s subtitle, 40 Songs, One Story, is a nod to the bookâ??s forty chapters, which are each named after a U2 song. Bono has also created forty orig No library descriptions found. |
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âŚâŚâŚ.
I didnât listen to all the music mentioned incidentally, but I listened to all the chapter-title songs, most of which I knew, although some, like the songs off âBoyâ, were new.
Bono is a smart guy, and he makes subtle ambiguous music thatâs about love, and U2 is good Irish/âAngloâ/âAmericanâ music, and Iâm not so deluded that Iâm not that general sort of background, albeit from lands taken from the Lenape, you know. So I donât know. Thereâs no need to sit and preen that he has a brain; even though he does, clearly Bono can make mistakes like everybody else. Still, if my father could be like Bono and find humor in someone like Paisley, for exampleâNoy Surrendah! ~ or however he did itâthen my father would be much happier, and less hypocritical, even though Bono was clearly closer to that bomb-crater than us Lenape-landers, right. I donât know. Itâs pleasant, and it isnât stupid. So why not, right. Why the hell not.
âŚ. (listening to a song Iâve never heard before, by Joy Division) Now I remember why I was like, ill like that, when I was in my young youth years; I could not get myself to do anything but listen to songs with âloveâ in the titleâŚ.
And I GET that even some of Bonoâs songs come from a subliminally suicidal state, you know. It took me years to realize that I was subliminally suicidal, at that age. Years. Literally, years.
Lots of pretty music out there, though. After awhile most people drift away from it, like I did.
âŚ. And it is different to hear about America from someone who isâeven if only a little bitâan outsider when he comes here; who says, in effect, They donât build a country as big as this where I come from, you know.
âŚ. I always liked the whole classical or church music aspect of U2, although itâs ironic now, that Iâm deleting much of the âgoodâ think-think religious books I had, and someone I know, a retired man, is taking theology classes, and I asked him why: âto get credentials.â Of course. Why are we going to the shop? âTo get ice creamâŚ. ~ So itâs nice, now, especially, that Bono can write a book like this, about his life journey, his faith journey, and not have him be likeâŚ. Mind-pooping on people, you know. âI have a degree that allows me to do that, you knowâŚ.â
âŚ. And they made him feel bad. Poor Christian village man little preacher man, the little man, âthereâs no good life in which you express yourself in any way; the way forward is to be a defeated slaveâ little man, made him feel bad.
We built this church so that you would be a defeated slave little-man. God knows I am. Who are you to get stand up straight and tall, to sleep at night and wake up every morning?âŚ.
And it wasnât because they picked the worst lot; they had one of the better church types of the 80s, but things were still set then, you know: you can talk like you want to evangelize the youthâŚ. As long as you live your life, so as to try to crush them, basicallyâŚ.
âŚ. How do you go to the serial daters and the junkies and the rappers, and say, Make beautiful music and live the right way, when you can show up with U2 and get told: having beauty is the opposite of living the right way, you know? Itâs likeâtheyâre right. Might they not be right? Whatâs the reward? Itâs like you have to get off on being told off by people who donât like you and wonât give you a dimeâs compromise on anything that matters to your life after a year of Sundays, to go to church. Thatâs what it takes. Itâs against the rules to like people! Itâs against the rules to be kind! Follow the rules, dammit! We didnât build this church so that people would live their best life; we built it to lock âem in!
âŚ. âPerhaps sometimes you have to refuse the call of religion, to stand up to it and say no.â
Or else you can go on acting like itâs, I donât know, indoctrinating your children with Narnia, (only the Bible thatâs in Lewis, and only the Lewis thatâs in Narnia, and only the Narnia thatâs in some hairy sweaty freak you happen to know personally), or else, I donât knowâmaybe the Republicans can pass a law, right, regulating peopleâs ability to say no to hairy sweaty local government authorities, who, if theyâre not saying the right things, will be executed and replaced by white terrorists from Louisiana or something, you know.
Itâs up to you.
âŚ. I donât consider myself very âIrishâ, as Iâm not from the Brooklyn of the 1950s, you know. It is true there are many British leaders I regard with humor, at best, given the way theyâve treated many, many countries. But I really donât like Gerry Adams, and what those people stood for, you know. In a way they were fighting a war, but a lot of them liked it, and they liked not playing by the rules, or trying to make them up themselves, improvâd by the barrel of a gun, like a sort of tiny tyrant, you know. They didnât need all the votes or popular art, you know. They had bombs. Even in the South they probably would have killed Bono if he had written a song Friday Bloody Friday, you know, it would be likeâŚ. Jason Momoa doing a movie about why Hawaii isnât an independent monarchy anymore, you know. I guess Irish people werenât always so white, you know, asleep underneath Odinâs tree, somewhere in America where itâs safe to be oblivious, but itâs hard to really like a people so tribal and bloody and clueless about the bottom and the top, you know, and itâs hard to like them thinking that they have some sort of claim on me when they donât, even if Ireland isnât a worse island than Britain or Maui, and even if some relatively normal people live there, to the extent that people in general arenât just awful, you knowâŚ. I really liked that earlier line where Bono was making fun of Dunce PaisleyâNoy Surrendahâinstead of feeling afraid, enraged or engaged, you know; and I felt so irritated that if I tried to share that little joke with my father, heâd reach into the mickâs hypocrite bag of charms and troubles, you knowâthe honest, honest supporter of the American Paisley who never turned his back on the pagan tribal ways of race war, you know, Gosh, what an honest group of people micks tend to beâŚ.
âŚ. Listen, I know that Iâm not Irish, basically, so I shouldnât trouble the wee little micks, right, and I know that there are plenty of perfectly normal places and people in Ireland, but the really âIrishâ people, itâs like, I feel like Iâm talking about some little troll, or a gremlin that lives in a cave, and he comes out at night to frighten children because heâs a fairy-tale villain, you know; and itâs like, Iâm sorry, almost, but when are you going to grow up and stop being Irish, you know; itâs likeâŚ. I mean, itâs funny; itâs cute; itâs charmingâand I like it, like I like a lot of things, until it turns into this ugly little troll from the tribe of the mick people who lives in a cave and fucks sheep, you know, and itâs likeâŚ. Really?âŚ. You know, itâs hey, weâre all different; Iâm the American cultural imperialist; youâre the terrorist who lives in the cave and fucks sheep and plots revenge, you knowâŚ. Revenge, troll-kin! Revenge! Fairy-tale land will come back, and blood will flow in the streets, unless! Someone betrays our plans, to the American cultural imperialists in Beverley Hills, you knowâŚ. Ooo, troll-kin mick tribe doesnât want this to be a California fairy tale with a pop music video; this has to be a fairy tale for Irish trolls who live in the cave and plot their revenge by the light of the moon, for the sake of the holy fairy tale race of Erin!âŚ. And the sheep that we fuck that weâre probably related to, at this point. Hell, that sheep could be my mother, right!
Thanks so much, (city name); Iâm an Aquarius, and I love Bono, and Iâm not sure about Ireland, and! Iâm done. (puts mic back up in the holder, walks away)
âŚ. Incidentally itâs kinda the same with the left. Iâm supposed to feel indebted to the leftists who want to shoot Bono or whatever, or who think that Greta Gerwig isnât cool enough, but if I want to be an intellectual bully who makes fun of Bono, Greta Gerwig, and probably Barack and Michelle, by the end of the dayâŚ. Itâs like, No. I owe you nothing. Have fun hating everyone, and at the end of the day, yourself. Iâll watch you implode from a safe distance. I feel the same way about the church, too. So many bullies, so many intellectuals, so little time. The church is basically part of the system in our culture, even if itâs the little sibling part of the system, the struggling part of the system, I donât care. Let it struggle. I donât care anymore. The whole normative culture is intellectual bullies. Even film critics are intellectual bullies, mocking people for not being a dead Marxist from the Middle Ages or whatever weâre supposed to be, you know. Intellectuals think that you have some sense of obligation to them, either because âweâre both smartâ, or, âIâm smarter than youâ. I donât care if you invented calculus, I donât owe you shit. Youâre a bully. Go away, right. Leave me alone. Stop intellectualizing every field, so that you have to put up with bullies no matter what you want to do with your life, even read film reviews. Grow the fuck up, genius, and get this: I donât feel obligated to you.
Oddly enough, Brian Eno I can take, lol. Maybe not in person, though, ha. Atheists, at least in our culture, are about as elitist and cold as the sea is wide.
âŚ. I mean, it boils down to this: intellectuals/âthe leftâ:
The problem is, Everything. Something bad happens, itâs part of the Everything Is Shit system, like I been telling.
But donât worry, thereâs one simple solution to bring down the Everything Is Shit system I been telling you about. Man, itâs be a real man. The end.
Because real men can do no wrong?
Aww, man, thatâs just in the Everything Is Shit system I been telling you about! See how when youâre delusional, everything confirms everything! Man, donât learn shit to make your life better. Make it more circular. Embrace the mind cancer. Cultivate problems so your mind has something to do. Donât be no little girl now, that ainât Dead Father Marxâs teaching. Itâs all real simâcomplicated, but worth the study. We donât want most people to crack our populist system, after allâthem and the little girls. Jailbait, man, being that young should be illegal!
âŚ. âBullet the Blue Skyâ
Oh, itâs about planes dropping bombs, okay.
I mean, yeah, I get it, in my own estimation. America is a very violent country. You donât even need U2 to tell you, although itâs certainly a great song. Most Americans donât really hide the fact that weâre a violent people. We brag on it. Weâre proud of it. Weâre not proud of peaceful people in America. Itâs not a secret.
âŚ. âWhere The Streets Have No Nameââitâs like, you donât know if itâs a white neighborhood or a Black neighborhood; you donât know if itâs a âgoodâ neighborhood or a âbadâ one; you donât know what the cops and the church people think about it; you donât know if people there have a shot at making six figures in a month, rightâŚ. Because the streets have no name there, bro. Itâs a more pure empire there.
âŚ. Itâs kinda common for the leftist religious person to be all psyched up when things are bad, beyond whatâs healthy: like, misery is the balm for a happiness-wracked soul, you know. And I mean, Iâm sure that a lot of good comes out of that, since there are things like famine in the world and most people donât care, especially since they donât look like us, rightâŚ. But I wonder how much more good you could do if you werenât doing it all to please punk boys afraid of being pleased, you know. Blessed are the poorâwho stay poor. Cursed are the poor who betray us by moving out of the old neighborhood, into the high rent district. ~ And, I mean, itâs easy to me to say, because Iâm white, and because Iâve always been too proper to be punk. Supporting Marxist dictatorships was about as close as I got to being a rebel in high school; I was the tyrant of elf-land, you know. Even before I got into fashion or dance or whatever, it was never about being from the wrong side of town with me, because I wasnât. Even when I was in the hospitalâand I mean, obviously it was all luck or whatever you want to call it; there was no conscious planâI think it was probably a pretty good hospital. Lord knows we could eat, you know.
But anyway, call this the tiny violin cue but, I feel confirmed in my feeling that there isnât a seat in the church for me, not this time around. Church can be about anything, as long as itâs not about being happy. You can talk about commies or famines or both, but you donât talk about Gossip Girl, you know. Which is ironic, because people Do gossip in churches, butâŚ. Itâs like, if youâre not a born Kiss On The Lips person, they wonât be teaching the proud boys and the leftist intellectuals how to do it. And sure, life has greater tragedies. But it does make the whole thing harder to get excited about, that it was never about what I wanted in this lifetime, and apathy is what they complain about fromâwell, I wonât really be young much longer, but I Was young, for a number of years, right.
âŚ. Bono is defs a Two, you know. Heâs all heart, but you turn your head and heâs a bleeding-heart type Eight, who thinks that women are tougher than he is. And heâs certainly into being a special Four, too. Mostly heâs a Two, though. And in denial about it, I guess. âPop? U2 does pop? No, noâŚ. We donât do popâŚ. Not us, never! đ¸
âŚ. Heâs actually not as different from Harry Styles as he seems, although Harry doesnât characteristically spend as much time in Eight or even Four, so he doesnât seem as smart (or tough, obviously), but their central energy isnât so different (although their ages are different and you can kinda tell that Bono is an earthy Taurus, although heâs not like a lot of Taurus guys (like my brother the banker lol).
But I donât know, itâs not bad. (Itâs âBadâ like the song lolâboss.) And you know I saw a celebrity magazine with Taylor and Harry the other day, and I just canât take those two together, although maybe (maybe) I could take them separately, you know. (âAnd heâs like, I still love you. And Iâm like, This is exhaustingâŚ. ~ Taylor never changes, lol. We never change.)
âŚ. I can deal with Bono; I think U2 has good material, and that heâs also a good prose writerâhowever, at this stage in my journey, he is kinda on the extreme âearnestâ end that Iâm comfortable with. Not that I wonât probably end up reading worse, but I probably shouldnât. And of course, he is quite tough at times, too. But itâs never just a flat, straight thing, you know; like, heâd never work as a high-end chef, or an auto mechanic, despite being sweet and tough by turns. Heâs always prowling the borderlands where earnestness meets absurdity, basically.
âŚ. I think itâs kinda cool that Bono could tell the Dalai Lamaâas cool as the dally lally can be, you knowâthat actually he wanted to be a pop star, even though he didnât want to be a wretched codependent, with the same singular amazing line, you know. âWeâre one, but weâre not the same.â
I actually think that âOneâ might be my favorite song by a white guy artist or group, really. Defs on some sort of short list, at the very, you know.
âŚ. And âThe Flyâ is pretty smarmyâdystopian, really, but I notice that now that I donât think that the central axis of life is transcendent dignity, it doesnât bother me anymore.
âŚ. Bono must really hate himself sometimes: he always gets a hard on when some oppressed little death camp girl shouts that he should be in a Persian prison for singing a song about how meanie stalks her in the night. ~ Some people live outside the death camp: what a tragedy! What an aberration!
I remember when I read that first Esther Hicks childrenâs book, the âSolomonâ book, I was a little sad and unpersuaded when she had the bullied boy lash at the girl who tried to give him something, some attention, you know. But that is it, often, you know. Some people in a pickle do want support, of course, but plenty feel threatened by it. Improvement is change: and change is death.
And, of course, we all know that poor people are always having people knock on their doors, thanking them for their altruism in staying poor, you knowâthat anybody would ever give that up boggles the mind! To give up the Best Thing! Youâd have to be like, not a Catholic or something! (Catholic mother with story time book) This is Saint Karl Marx children! He went to heaven for encouraging people not to improve their lives! The altruism of that, you know! But thereâs sin in the world children! (turns page) Some people think that being happy should count for more than social control! (pictures of hell, etc.)
Not that there arenât âbadâ rich people, and oppressed races and evil wars and so on, much of which is called âcapitalismâ by the naive and nefarious. I used to think that thatâs what Maryâs Magnificat was about. âThe poor have gone up in the world; the rich have gone away empty.â But I think itâs just kinda a Psalm 73 moment: the evil rich manâs money is fairy goldâit disappears. The people who hated themselves can always repent, and the people who have it to burn can always get caught doing business the wrong way, so there are always people going up and down in the world.
Thatâs all. Although it must have taken more faith to see it, in a more militaristic, more static world.
âŚ. HomeGoods RadioRestless made me hate âMysterious Waysâ, and then I listened to it, and it was alright, and then I read Bono talk about it and I hate it again. They should make Twos take some class so that their Eight energy doesnât turn into a Downfall thing, you know. Heâs always ranting about how the woman is going to crush you because you deserve it, you know. âSheâll crush you sheâll crush you sheâll crush you.â And who are you? The Goblin Queenâs slave lackey? Oh no wait; itâs better than that. Youâre HER BROTHER, right. I mean, Who Likes, no matter what you think about women or how you treat them, who likes being bullied by some girlâs brother, right? Do girls look at that and say, This is utopia; I have an attack mutt of a brother whoâll stick his butt in peopleâs faces âfor meâ, right.
đ
âŚ. Of course, I have no memory of being a girl, so.
But Bono does have a lot of Scorpio energy lol. (Moon/Rising Sign). đ¸
âŚ. Re: âPride (In the Name of Love)â music video
I love how the subtitles tries to describe the instrumental music before the singing. âPowerful upbeat rock musicâ đި
âOne man come, he to justify
One man to overthrowâ đ
Bono is really cute for a Jesus Boy, you know. đ¸
Really, you have to laugh.
âŚ. And then the pope, dressed in Gucci shoes, tried to shame the capitalists into being good to poor. After all, he doesnât like capitalists: if youâre going to buy some bling okay, but donât go all the way and be happy instead of stiff! Come on, now!
The Christian church: even when theyâre right, almost, they can usually find a way to snatch sin out of the jaws of moral victory.
âŚ. And I know this might turn into a big long thing, but I am so done with listening to Bono say heâs a bad person. You know what, Bono? I give up: you win. Youâre a bad person; youâre going to hell; itâs the mystery of iniquityâyou let Jesus down and the pope parade let you down, blah blah blah: but you know what? Shut the fuck up, you goddamn cry baby. Thatâs what you get for looking out for people who think that youâre the devilâs son, you know?
And now, I will finish this book, but after that, I would like to read specifically about The Rolling Stones and in general about women and people of color who are artists, maybe Madonna and Bob Marleyâs wifeâs book, you knowâbut, Iâd also like to read a real punk book, you know. A book where the singer doesnât fucking apologize for being a human being and go to hell to save the world, basically.
âŚ. Itâs like, say youâre the pope: you do a photo to prove youâre cool, but of course you immediately have some minion spirit it away to the bottom of the archives, because itâs like: I want to know, and I want you to know, that I can be cool: however, you know, and I know, that I donât really mean it. ~Because youâre a fake, basically. The people who go to church are afraid of the priest, and the priest is afraid of the people who go to church. Because fear is the first step towards being a fakeâŚ. And that I guess, is the Way, as itâs been called. As in: the Way, or the highway.
âŚ. I know thisâll seem overdone to any Real Bono fans, but, I mean, I like pop, and God-mind and all the rest of it, but just feel like U2 would have done better just making summery pop sometimes without always going for the theological kill shot, you know. âBoom, Jesus! Iâm a genius!â Maybe a little light irony to keep it from being a song about the eternal church of girlfriend, you know, complete with smells and bellsâwhat is it they call it, censer and whatever else?âŚ. Maybe thatâs what some people think U2 does offer, pop seasoned with a little light poesyâŚ.
Itâs hard for me to read him and not think heâs a little much, though. Even his lyrics are a little much sometimes. Religion can be too much, whether itâs âpaganismâ and witchcraft or Jesus/The Importance of Being Earnest/Pity, you know. It just sounds like heâs going to crucify his wife because heâs a wretched sinner, bent on saving the world, before going up to the holy sepulcher of the cancer-killed father, for to go on pilgrimageâŚ. Sometimes thereâs something very un-pop at the heart of pop, you know. Pop is like W.J. Cashâs âpleasure-loving Negroâ of yore who got his hands on a book of Bach chords and electric instruments; but then sometimes the people putting pop through its paces are just, I donât know, people too drunk to find the Time Machine to go back to the Middle Ages with your parents, back when a man was a man, a woman was a woman, and a human being was scum in the hands of a fretfully mean God fluent only in Latin, you know. (Maybe Greek, too, on a good day.)
âŚ. Bono is funny. I havenât watched Ben Stiller in a long time and I do know that film critics are an unusually frumpy group of men, so I donât know if this is justified or not, but I remember once reading that somebody said that Ben thinks heâs a great important actor, but critics think heâs just a throwaway silly actor, you knowâand I couldnât help but be reminded of Bono. (Although throwaway or whatever the frumpy film critic man said was harsh, obviously.) Bono will write these ordinary common songs, nice chords and unrealistic and kinda random words, and then heâll write about it, and it will be like: Bono, Bono, we get it. Youâre a good man! Youâre Jesus; youâre a genius; youâre our dateâŚ. But hereâs the thing: I just wanted to let chocolate. đ¸ âChocolate, thatâs great! And drugs! And Jesus! Whoo-wee!â Heâs very American. (More American than the Americans themselves.) Weâre a simple people, you know. A lot of cultures do make those simple things workâpassion and religions; a lot of Euro-frumps can be a veritable (cyanide) pill, you knowâŚ.
But still. Sometimes, sometimesâŚ.
âŚ. (Black teenager rapper) (spoken) This song is about, uhâworld peace!
(rap) Bitch I like your thighs, your thighs, not your eyes; Bitch I like your thighsâŚ.
(spoken over the music) I went to Africa on vacation last yearâwhoo! Not doing that again!
(rap) Bitch I like your thighs, your thighsâŚ.
~~ An exaggeration, of course. But he claims in this overly-literary book that every song was about Africa or whatever, and thereâs basically nothing in the actual song to back that up, you know. Itâs just dishonestâŚ.
Of course, itâs not just rich people. The average âsocial personâ cares nothing about other people: talking in public on their phone where other people are trying to concentrate or whatever, cursing out their friendâyou donât need money to do that! And ultimately those people make the celebrities, you know, although different ordinary-faces make different celebrities, obviouslyâŚ.
âŚ. Iâm not saying itâs an easy fix, because going full on National-of-Islam-Malcolm-X isnât Such a great thing, but itâs a little awkward how Bono can interpret âembarrassmentâ over catching a fatal disease by Third World standards as âgood mannersâ and âgraceâ (!), when you know that the main reason heâs there is to prop up the social system that equates suffering in silent shame unto death as goodness and manners and ~grace~, you knowâŚ. White people are always surprised when Black people donât call them whitey or whatever, even if theyâre effectively conking their hair, basically. Oh yeah, they love you, whiteyâŚ. âI love you whitey! I want my children to look like you! I go to church, you know! I love Jesus!â You know, itâs like, badâŚ. And thatâs without even addressing the whole issue of the church and aids (the immunodeficiency disease) and the gay community, rightâŚ. âThe grace these gay people showâreally taking their shame in stride, you know! We should all be like thatâŚ.â
âŚ. I know I must be repeating myself, but maybe he got something out of the people tasked with caretaking the poor dying people calling him âMr. Bonoâ and implying that he was wasting their time, you know; thatâs what he seemed to remember. He loved that. Maybe when he was singing âBadâ to a million people who loved him he couldnât accept the love, and he needed to find a way to discard it, you know. Find a way to get the outside to look like the inside. Of course, âgood worksâ, pace Luther, are a good thing, but you do have to talk about motivation, too.
âŚ. I want to like Bono. I really do. But he keeps making these âIâm the problemâ speeches like heâs never made them before. We get it, Bono. You donât like yourself. And if you werenât a white man, you still wouldnât like yourselfâyouâd get that jackboot in the rib cage and think, Wow, I must be weak; I hate myself!âŚ. ~âIâm the problem.â Bono, you wrote a book thatâs WELL over 500 pages. If youâre the problem, shut up. If you just cut out all the âIâm the problemâ speeches to one or two, youâd be well on your way to having a normal-sized book on your hands. âOh no, Iâm very important. Everybodyâs gotta know how Iâm the problem, you know.â Neurotic. Clinical. Get a shrink, Bono. Itâll be someone to preach to, and/or someone to assign you acts of penance, right.
âŚ. And I realize he doesnât trash the models exactly, but itâs so bored; itâs like he tolerates them. âThere were also models at the anti-apartheid show.â And this from a singer! Itâs like, Good One, if there werenât any beautiful people and people inspired by them and inspired by music inspired by them, youâd probably be flipping burgersâdonât pretend thatâs not your career! Why canât you admit it? Itâs the classic crazy huemie (human) divided selfâhis lyrics are generally cryptic rather than debasing, usually, although you couldnât frame a theology or a political platform out of them, you know; theyâre meant to be sung. I guess thatâs ok. But then when he sits in the prose seat, he just tries to make it sound like heâs the woke monk of the cult of Truth, you know. Maybe heâs an opera singer; maybe heâs an economist. We know heâs a monk, though. He gets up at 3AM to chant the psalmic odes of the Third WorldâŚ. I mean, grow up, you know. Tell the truth.
âŚ. (before the end) People tell you that youâre supposed to be loyal, that thereâs one way to look at things, and that you canât have the agency that lets you have more than one lens in your travelerâs bag, you know. But I just feel like it usually just makes people so much poorer to have one god, a monomania for power and the prestige and âknowledgeâ so-called and conformity, and to have just one worn-out, cracked lens that should have received its reward and been retired already, you know. (Hasnât the classic of yesterday already received its reward?) ~Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! Every-thing is Je-sus! Everything is Je-e-sus; and, everywhere is cross, and death!
âŚ. (last part before the end) I just donât see how, guitar music aside, Bono is REALLY doing anyone any favors by making it so that people âseeâ that you have to be the primordial archetypal guilt-ridden Christian to know or care about the race issue, you know. Liberal Christians can be SUCH Christians, you know. I almost feel like they were Christians first, like they started it, and itâs almost their fault more, in a way. Conservative Christians are like, Jesus is organizing the Fourth of July party! Woot!, and itâs like, Jesus is for whatever they would have done or been had there been no Christianity, you know. (Just like they can throw around woke words like racism, incredibly, to attack whoever they already donât likeânot thinking white people are the best is racist, etc. Itâs bad, donât get me wrong.) But the liberal Christians are like, Why IS there even the Fourth of July? Jesus didnât die in summer! Whatâs up with having a summer holiday! Pray and work, people! Poverty, chastity, obedience to the traitor-smashing god of the left, the new god! ~And itâs like, Hello Saint Patrick. Welcome to Ireland. So, you going back to Italy next week, week after that, orâŚ.?
âŚ. (finis) I wanted to like Bono, you know. He says some things I agree withâuntil I hear them from him, you know. I guess that makes him like an anti-celebrity/anti-influencer, you know. Someone who either pushes you away from him, or makes you uneasy about yourselfâŚ. And not in any good way at all.
âŚ. (coda) I wanted to like Bono.
I just feel like he never quite got over that October-era feedback of, You are not enough; you are not holy. ~He seems to have spent decade after decade saying, I am not enough: but I am holyâŚ. ~or else just lost in shame; shame and importance.