Paralyzed in Light

I read an album review somewhere for Antony and the Johnsons' new album I'm a Bird Now. The web site advertises the band as an "utterly genderqueer musical sensation."

Let me tell you -- they have an incredible sound. I love the male voice, but I've never heard anyone start the lead track of an album with vibrato-filled male falsetto, as they do on "Hope There's Someone." It's bold, and, pardon the expression, quite beautiful.

The song expresses the desire not to die alone, and I confess that some of the song's power over me comes from the last six weeks, where I've been studying the ways in which one prepares for death. Does Trusts and Estates have this effect on many law students, or just me? (Of course, events in my own life have also caused me to take stock recently.)

I had never been one to worry about death, until I started hearing all the things I should do, with some urgency, before I die. It's not the legal crap that bothers me much. Suddenly, I worry that I will die and leave things unsaid. Important things. Things I'm afraid to say, or things that words just can't express anyway.

Then I ask myself, "what difference does it make if you die alone? Either way, you're dead." It seems like vanity to worry about how I would be remembered. It's not going to matter to me, after all.