Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?

I grew up listening to Steve Taylor, a Christian rock singer from the 80's and 90's that mainly used satire to drive his message home. This morning I woke up with the melody line of one of his songs from his album "Squint", in my head. He entitled the song "Smug". It is a clever, little ditty on the seductive nature of pride. I am not sure why I remembered this song, I have not heard it in many years. My taste in music now runs more to the worship and contemplative side. Maybe the closing words of Malachi (4:1) reminded me of this: "Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire," says the LORD Almighty. "Not a root or a branch will be left to them." Taylor is a master as using satire and humor to communicate a difficult message. Here is a link to the hilarious video of "Smug", shot in Turkey in the early 90's: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNMNQZFIyeI

Strike this little pose
Chin up in the air
Lips together tightly
Nostrils in a flare
Now look like you care
Very nice!

Practice in the mirror
Brushing back a tear
Very sincere
A promising career could begin right here at home
If you've got that smug...That smug...

Hey mama hey mama lookee what your little babies all have become
Hey mama hey mama don't it ever make you wish you'd been a nun?
Vain and fickle, were we weaned on a pickle?
Is it in our blood?
Rome is burning
We're here turning smug

Strike another pose
Power politics
Swallow their conventions
Get your power fix
We love to mud wrestle
We love to be politically Koreshed

Practice that smug
Post it like a man
One part Master Limbaugh
Two parts Madame Streisand
Now pretend you're in a band
My, my, we're looking smug

Very very very very(chorus)

All you smug-starved millions in the thick of the search
Welcome to our church
Whatcha wanna solve?
We can help you evolve from merely self-righteous
To perfectly smug
Strike the proud pose of our country club brethren
Friendly as a tomb
Fragrant as the bottom of a locker-room broom
Now what's the matter?
Hey...get off your knees...that part don't come 'til later...God will not be pleased...

Hey mama hey mama lookee what your little babies all have become...
Rome is cooking
My, we're looking smug