[MD] Existence precedes essense

[Case]

[dmb]
My point? Yea, this mood is everywhere. It seems that fundamentalism, which 
seems to be approximately the opposite of existentialism, is also a symptom 
of this same disease, an expression of the same grief. But artists capture 
it best, eh?

[Case]
Nice examples. One of my favorites is Paul Newman in "Hombre".  The
responses in song range from despair ala Springsteen:


Seen a man standin' over a dead dog lyin' by the highway in a ditch
He's lookin' down kinda puzzled pokin' that dog with a stick
Got his car door flung open he's standin' out on highway 31
Like if he stood there long enough that dog'd get up and run
Struck me kinda funny seem kinda funny sir to me
Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe

Now Mary Lou loved Johnny with a love mean and true
She said "Baby I'll work for you every day and bring my money home to you"
One day he up and left her and ever since that
She waits down at the end of that dirt road for young Johnny to come back
Struck me kinda funny seemed kind of funny sir to me
How at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe

Take a baby to the river Kyle William they called him
Wash the baby in the water take away little Kyle's sin
In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away take his body to the
graveyard and over him they pray Lord won't you tell us
tell us what does it mean
Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe

Congregation gathers down by the riverside
Preacher stands with his Bible groom stands waitin' for his bride
Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weepin' willow tree
Groom stands alone and watches the river rush on so effortlessly
Wonderin' where can his baby be still at the end of every hard earned day
people find some reason to believe


To defiance from the Pretenders:

Everybody chokes
When they see someone cut down in their prime
It may not show when you look at me
But I know I'm in mine
I'm potent baby I'm potent
Dangerous to the naked eye
Rest your head on this bed of mother's pride
And find out why

Don't you wanna take me home?
Don't you wanna take me home?

Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now

Bully boys don't bother me
I purse my lips and they run away
Guys like you who are gentle and true
Don't come around here everyday
I'm potent baby I'm potent
Just one swig of me would get most guys smashed
But a drop of yours makes me stagger and swerve
I guess I'm outclassed

Everybody chokes
When they see someone cut down in their prime
Take this plea to your heart
- Lift me in mine


But the response in the arts generally assumes existentialism and asks "What
are we gonna do now?" Existentialism has become, like cultural relativism
one of the unstated assumptions of life today. 

Fundamentalism is backlash and outrage. More anger than grief. Perhaps there
is hope in the strength of their indignation. Or perhaps we should seriously
consider what it is that so enflames them. What baby did we heave away with
the suds?

(Note the lyrics were inserted mostly to annoy Platt. Of course pop artists
express genuine insight. And people actually pay attention to them, if only
subliminally. You can't expect to look into the future if you don't know
what is happening now.)