As of this posting I have written, recorded, and released a song every week for five years. I'm not truly able to soak in what that means, or understand this moment in my life for what it really is. It catches me as a swell of emotion from time to time, but I'm too overwhelmed by it to ponder it deeper. I have engaged in some self-congratulatory thinking lately, but I'm not surprised that my prevailing thought tends to be "Good job. You're half-way to 10 years, and wouldn't that be something? Any thoughts for next Monday?" Always the next song. Always higher to climb. That's the way it should be. That has ever been the point of this.
I'm very grateful to all of you, most specifically my family (especially Mom and Dad), my friends, my collaborators, and my wife, Rebecca. In general, I'm extremely grateful to my listeners, my re-posters, my likers, my sharers, my tweeters, and on and on. As a show of gratitude, I offer you a very large download of 30 songs, which are my favorites from the past year. Get it at mounteverestweekly.com
This week's song is a reflection on the madness and decline of western thought and civilization. I see it all around me, and it makes my belly ache. I participate in it too, which makes my heart hum with survivor's guilt. As always, there's meant to be a strain of hope in this song. It's bleak this time, but it's there. After we're all gone the dogs will finally run free of their cages and kennels. I'm certain the world will be theirs, and I'm glad for it.
Thanks for for listening. See you all again next Monday.
released November 23, 2015