Hypernormalisation ("The Suburbs" by Arcade Fire)

This was one of the songs I picked early on for my 2025 playlist. I'm not sure why, but it felt like it fit, and as the year dragged on, it became even more apt to describe the current American landscape. I don't think I've ever featured it...I think I've maybe written on a cover, but never the original. But it seems to strike the right note of...what's the word? Nostalgia? Sort of. Melancholy? A bit. Disillusionment? Bingo.

You always seemed so sure

That one day we'd be fighting

In a suburban war

Your part of town against mine

I saw you standing on the opposite shore

But by the time the first bombs fell

We were already bored

We were already, already bored

Life in 2025 was....weird. And yet, it was also strangely mundane. The images in the news and the descriptions of current events on podcasts were far removed from the everyday happenings of my perfectly curated community. The disparity was - and is - unsettling. Intellectually, I know these things are happening. I know there was a ridiculous (and extralegal) black ops-style raid on an apartment building in Chicago, where children were separated from the parents and zip-tied in the freezing cold. I know people are being kidnapped off the street, outside of churches and schools. Indiscriminately. To include US citizens. I know millions of people are going to be unable to afford health insurance next year. I know there was a totally pointless 43-day government shutdown. I know there's disturbing images and documents being released from the Epstein investigation, the implications of which are stomach-turning. And yet, despite the fragility of current circumstances, it feels as if we're just going to continue on forever in this Black Mirror version of reality. 

Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling again

The term hypernormalisation was created by Alexei Yurchak to describe what life was like in the Soviet Union in the decade prior to the collapse. Everyone knew the system was failing but they couldn't imagine a society different from the one they had - they couldn't dream of a different alternative - so everyone just pretended everything was working as it should. Blatant corruption and abject poverty became the norm, and people just accepted it. This is a common reaction - in 1930s Germany, during the rise of Nazism, things didn't change much in the beginning. In his book, "They Thought They Were Free," Milton Sanford Mayer describes how incremental changes caught non-Nazi Germans unaware. A law here, a speech there - it was all very subtle. Until it wasn't. The idea - more like a naive hope - that ignoring a problem makes it go away is enticing. It requires a lot less work and individual courage. In reality, it just allows the problem to become more insidious. Mostly because at some point, they try to paint these ideas as reasonable. It's all semantics and window dressing. They twist definitions and make unrelated things synonymous. They co-opt pop culture and previously noble policy crusades for their own purposes. I don't think anyone would disagree with making America healthy again but when a distinguished cardiologist who made his fortune off peddling contemporary snake oil (Dr. Oz) tells the working class to throw out centuries of medical progress, that's just another grift. 

Kids wanna be so hard

But in my dreams we're still screamin' and runnin' through the yard

And all of the walls that they built in the seventies finally fall

And all of the houses they built in the seventies finally fall

Meant nothin' at all

Meant nothin' at all

It meant nothin

At the tail end of 2024, I listened to the audiobook of "Conspirituality: How New Age Conspiracy Theories Became a Health Threat." There's been this notable progression of really famous pagan and New Age spiritualists becoming born-again Christians. One of the most famous in recent history is Doreen Virtue, who made her fortune off creating tarot and oracle card decks, as well as dozens of books on New Age subjects. In 2017, she declared her previous New Age beliefs were "demonic" and started marketing herself as a fundamentalist Christian. Coincidentally (or maybe not), this was around the time that pagan practices and witchcraft/occult books became extremely popular and common (i.e., more competition in the market). "Conspirituality" explains how the COVID epidemic resulted in a lot of historically more liberal communities (like yoga, New Age, and alternative medicine) taking a hard right turn in recent years. Having floated in these spaces since the home computer became a thing, I've always noticed it but it never alarmed me as much as it has in recent years. Mostly because it doesn't make sense from my perspective. There is a difference between choosing to believe and participating in a belief system, and then there's throwing out critical thinking entirely. I'm not sure everyone knows where that line is. And I think, as a rule, we expect others we run into within the witchcraft/pagan community to be a little weird (in a good way) and, in an attempt to be welcoming and inclusive, we don't always notice when maybe the weirdness comes from someplace unhealthy.

Sometimes I can't believe it

I'm movin' past the feeling

Sometimes I can't believe it

I'm movin' past the feeling and into the night

There's one last disturbing trend I'd like to call attention to and I'll leave 2025 willingly. Trad wives. And it's not the aesthetic - the aesthetic is quite lovely, which is why it's so popular. It's the malignant undercurrent of misogyny fueling it. And even more infuriating - it's a lie! When you look at the most popular "trad wife" accounts, like Ballerina Farms or Nara Smith, these women are working mothers and (in many cases) the breadwinners for their family. The only difference between them and myself is they have a camera rolling while they do their chores (and they can hire a nanny to mind the children while they cook dinner from scratch). So, we have wealthy, Ivy-league educated business-women telling less privileged young girls to forego an education and a career while they themselves are building up their own safety net. And what naturally follows is a parade of articles of divorced single mothers in their late 30s saying they were wrong about the "trad wife life." It is just the most disgusting scam I've ever seen. I appreciate stay-at-home parents - my own career success has been possible due to having a stay-at-home parent - but this is not what these women are. They cosplay a cottage-core fantasy and peddle nonsense about feminine virtue and living a "soft life" while raking in millions from women who will never attain the level of financial freedom needed to acquire a homestead of their own. They are grifters, they are con-men, just like everyone else on TV.

So can you understand

Why I want a daughter while I'm still young?

I wanna hold her hand

And show her some beauty

Before all this damage is done

But if it's too much to ask, if it's too much to ask

Then send me a son

"The Suburbs" came out in 2010 but I had never seen the music video until this year. The music video, which I thought was disturbing 2025, was probably even more so back then. The music video is made up of clips from the Spike Jonze short film inspired by the album, "Scenes from the Suburbs." The central focus is on a group of teenagers, having fun and doing normal teenager shenanigans. Then, the narrative pulls back and we realize they are in the middle of said suburban war. People are being taken from their homes in the middle of the night, there's gunfire and men in uniform around every corner, a barrier with barbed wire divides the neighborhood. In one scene, Black Hawk helicopter hovers over the city. And these kids are just....living through it. Until one of them is forced into the ranks of the soldiers. It ends with him beating up his friend for some reason. It's a metaphor for the angst of having to grow up....I think. I'm going to be honest - some of the images in this film from 15 years ago feel all to real now.

In my dreams we're still screamin'

We're still screamin'

We're still screamin'

None of this is normal. 

"The Suburbs" Music Video

Press Pause ("Dying Star" by Ashnikko, feat. Ethel Cain)

This year has been exhausting but this last month has taken it to a new level. I've been going through the past several weeks - months - like a zombie, soul-weary and tired. I'm grateful this year is over, not because I think next year will better (on a grand scale, I don't think it will be), but because it means I've survived it. I realize not everyone can say the same. Here at the end of 2025, I'm treading water among the wreckage. I found a door to float on but the turbulence beneath the waves threatens to pull me under. One wrong move and I'm out to sea. I'm taking time off for the next couple weeks. I'm ready for a long-awaited breath of air, where my mind is not fixed on the government or everything everyone is demanding of me from day-to-day. Centered only on what matters. One breath in, one breath out. 

The ground reaches out to catch me

Softly in her baseball mitt

I'm tired of the dirt and grit

I want something soft

I'm a fish in a bucket, thrashing

He tried to take me out, hooks in my mouth

Listen to me when I say ouch

I want something soft

I had a lot of good intentions to write this year, but the clock started and I found myself leeched of creativity. And yet, there were moments....moments when the words flowed and I could hear my characters speaking to me. Or moments when an essay started to form. Maybe only snippets, but they were alive. Their pulse beating in my veins, whispering in my brain. Write it down, Jessica. It doesn't have to mean anything but, damn it, write it down. But I was gripped with this fear. Fear that my words may ruin me. May endanger my loved ones. May be misinterpreted by those who want to misinterpret. As the year pressed on, though, the real fear presented itself. No one cares. No one cares what I shout into the void. We are in a unique, blissfully nihilistic time right now. And I still care way too much. And worse, I want others to care more about me and my hopes and dreams than they do. The real fear is I'm merely another product - another transaction - and, despite my best efforts, I'm a boring one. And even if I write some totally outrageous nonsense, who cares? I am nothing and no one. The words I write are beautifully meaningless and for myself alone. And perhaps there is freedom in that.

Oh, to be an existentialist during such an era! To be reminded daily that I am both predictable and replicable is almost to much to bear. I am painfully aware I haven't written here as much as I've wanted. Every few weeks or so, I'll check my stats on this blog knowing they should be in the gutter because I haven't posted anything new in months, and yet there's a spike every few days of thousands upon thousands of views. That's it. There it is. The machines are stealing my words. And I have nothing to show for it, because bots don't click ads (unless you tell them to). A voice cultivated over 30+ years of writing (and life) experience, able to be replicated in seconds. Is this what it feels like? To slowly lose your soul? My sentences, my expressions, my clever turns of phrase sprinkled about hundreds of plagiarized articles and essays. You can imagine how demotivating this can be. More often than not, instead of writing, I've found myself doomscrolling, despite my best efforts not to be on Instagram so much. Every once in a while, I'll stumble across a reel telling me I shouldn't be on there. That I should be reading or writing or studying or doing anything more brilliant than staring at a screen. Like Brené Brown recounting what the People in Charge talk about when they think we drones aren't listening. That they are creating a class of Consumers, while they work towards being known as Philosophers. As a ruling echelon of Thinkers. And I will break out of my stupor, screaming, "No!" No. I am one of the Thinkers. Repeat after me. I am one of the Thinkers. And I have better things to do.

Needless to say, one of my New Years resolutions is deleting Instagram and Bluesky from my phone. And deleting my Facebook, which I haven't really used in a decade and am holding onto for no reason.

So I give in to the fall, fall, fall (it's cold out here)

I need somethin' soft, down feathers over rocks

I died and I land with both of my hands

In the mud, the mud

It felt like a god, how she held me

I slept on her shoulder, I gave her my all (Is there anyone?)

I bathed in her waterfalls

And continued to fall, fall (I'm entering the exosphere)

Astrology, at its core, is a meaning-making system. Like the alchemists and ancient Hellenistic philosophers who came before me, I embrace astrology as a lens through which I choose to view the world and my place in it. We cannot change the stars. We cannot change the moment that we are in. All we can control is how we navigate the cosmic storms. Not that I needed to tell you, but we are in a transitional time. A lot of big movements are happening. As noted before, Pluto is fully going into Aquarius - we're not going back to Capricorn again, we are done with that for another 250 years. We are finishing the last weeks of Neptune in Pisces and we'll be done with that for another 165 years. And Uranus in it's final retrograde through the last degrees of Taurus and we'll be done with that for another 84 years. You and I, my friend, will never see these transits again. So whatever change or turbulence they brought to your life, whatever area of your chart was transformed by those years, it's over. As such, a retrospective is in order.

Uranus is making its last pass through Taurus, which started in May 2018. Back then, in my naivete, I thought I knew what this transit would bring into my life. Boy, was I wrong! My life is completely different from how it was back then. I'm in a different part of my career - I'm at a different company, in a different state, with the triple the salary I was making 7-8 years ago. I earned like 6 Cybersecurity certifications. I bought the house I wanted for my forever home, I bought my first car, and I had a whole other child during that time. And I lived through a pandemic (which, if you're reading this, so did you). My entire mental foundation shifted, which I should've been able to predict considering Uranus was transiting by 12th House. I went through the worst depressive bout I've had during my life, which led to me completely restructuring how I approached my mental health and self-worth. I got back into my habit of reading and started a new hobby I will obsess over until my body gives out (pole dance). And more than ever, I've leaned into my spiritual beliefs. I've learned how to "say it with my chest." I'm much more open about my personal practices and beliefs than I used to be. Uranus is the planet of revolution and revelation. Indeed, that is what it has brought me. Every day, I'm realizing that the most rebellious things one can do in this world is rest, read, and create. As such, I'm actively learning to make time for those things, which isn't easy in the best conditions and is getting harder by design. If you know, you know. 

The forest reaches out to guide me

Blue fire paths of will-o-wisps

Illuminate the darkness's old tricks

I'm nobody's captive (mm-mm)

I asked him not to kill me politely

He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source

I washed up on a sea glass shores

I'm nobody's captive (mm-mm)

The changes and shifts will continue, and maybe even accelerate, as Uranus moves into my 1st House. I can see the possibilities already, in the short time the transit was in play this year. Everything could change, all aspects of my life, but mostly, it will likely change my perspective. How I move through my life, how I perceive the world. Chani probably said it best in her recommendation for Gemini and Virgo Risings - Be the Chaos you wish to see in the world. Challenge accepted. 

Burnin' like a dyin' star

Invasive weeds rooted in my heart

Set in a crooked trajectory

The journey here was hard

I was almost pulled apart

Tryna leave this orbit, took what's left of me

Ashnikko and Ethel Cain were two of my top artists this year. This song, in particular, found me at a time early in the year when I felt especially hopeless. It is a song about finding a place of rest after experiencing a period of turbulence. Specifically, it's about leaving an abusive relationship. It can translate to other situations, though - leaving a soul-sucking job, ending a one-sided friendship, just getting through a rough period in general. In the verses, Ashnikko recounts how she gave her all to a relationship, only to be drained of the essence which made her special, which filled her soul. This is one of the reasons it's hard to leave an abusive situation. It takes and takes and takes, until your sense of self worth is destroyed. And often, it feels like the only way to get it back is to get attention from the person (or situation) that took it. That's why we see these cycles and internal debates between leaving vs staying or leaving and then going back. To break the cycle, it requires a drastic refocus away from that person or situation. It requires a re-centering yourself. The shift is brutal and disorienting - it takes everything you have to pull your energy away. This is where we meet the artist on her journey. The waterfalls she bathes in are her own, she found the softness she needed in herself. Both Ashnikko and Ethel Cain have distinct vocals. Cain has this more ethereal lilt whereas Ashnikko has a more gravelly, raw quality. Together, they create this celestial, atmospheric blend, which complements the metaphors and imagery within the lyrics so well. I hope you enjoy it, I hope it brings you the same peace I feel every time I listen to it.

"Dying Star" Video

Fantasies and Frivolities ("Crush" by Ethel Cain)

I have a lot on my mind. It seems the theme of this year has been chaos, which is unfortunate because my words for the year were supposed to be "creation" and "transformation." I don't feel like getting into politics now - we all know we've got a front row seat to the shitshow. And while there's a lot I could say, I'm pretty sure a lot of it has already been said and it's falling on deaf ears. I can scream into the void with the best of them, but why waste the energy. Especially when this blog is supposed to be about music and - by extension - the emotions and memories and associations it stirs up from the abyss of my subconscious. So instead, I'm going to tell you about the songs (and other things) getting me through these shenanigans. Thanks for joining me on the ride.

His window's already passed, so he's shooting at the glass

Keeping guns in his locker, and he denies it

Like it's actually important, but he lied 'cause I sure did watch him

Showing up wearing black, and he knows that

Like much of my favorite music nowadays, I discovered Ethel Cain via an Instagram scroll. I follow a lot of miniaturists and there's this one miniaturist in particular that does a lot of Southern Gothic and horror inspired artwork. She was showing off this miniature church sign she made. The white paint was faded and nicked, the back papered with Missing posters, and the message in block letters proclaiming, "God Loves You, But Not Enough to Save You." I think about those words more often than I care to admit. The song featured on the post was "Sun-Bleached Flies" by Ethel Cain, which is where the the lyric comes from. It hints at disillusionment, with God, with love, with life. The artist (@southerngothicdollhouse on IG) sells a kit for people to make a similar sign themselves. I kind of want to buy it but it's $150 and I don't think I can justify it. To be clear, she provides all the pieces including the paints, so there's value in it - I'm not saying it's not worth the money. But I have a quarter-finished book nook that's calling my name and I really need to learn how to finish the things I start before buying more hobby paraphernalia. 

His daddy's on death row, but he'll say it with his chest, though

His friends move dope, he hasn't tried coke

But he's always had a problem saying no

His older brother bagged the valedictorian

His mother, steady, screaming he should be more like him

Anyway, back to this Ethel Cain song - another slow burn obsession for me, it's been popping up in pole class and it's an easy go-to for freestyling at home. Ethel Cain's music reminds me a lot of the early-mid 90s shoegaze-type rock. Dreamy, experimental, a little grungy, beautiful nigh haunting vocals. Honestly, it's the kind of vibe I prefer to bring to the table - to pole class or to work....or to really anywhere. I've heard of Ethel Cain's music being grouped in with country and, I'll admit, there is a Southern Gothic tint to her aesthetic. However, listening to the lyrics, it conjures up the imagery of being in a small Midwest town. Where you know everyone in your senior class because there's barely enough teenagers around to justify a high school. The crush in question is probably not the best guy to be running around with. Hides guns in his locker, wears all black, has stoner friends. I was a teenager during the early 2000s - I'm no stranger to being intrigued by the weird, quiet Goth kid. But I know being the weird Goth kid in a rural town somewhere in the Bible Belt carries a heavier weight than where I went to high school. 

Can you read my mind? I've been watching you

(You know it, you know it, you know it's true)

Couldn't fight to save your life, but you look so cool

Camo' jacket, robbing corner stores

Hard odds to beat when you're on all fours

Good men die too, oh, I'd rather be with you, you, you

I've added "Crush" to my Unskippables playlist....I'm past the obsessive listening phase, which usually ends in wanting to not hear a song again for at least a couple of months. I could listen this basically any time now. The point of "The Unskippables" is that they're songs I keep coming back to, that I love hearing over and over and over. Songs I'd put in every playlist, if I didn't have any self respect or mix tape skillz. I've been trying to pinpoint why certain songs capture my devotion and the closest explanation I've gotten to is that they elicit a particular emotion in me. A vision, a place in time, a story that I have playing in my brain. For "Iris," I am both the singer and the person being sung about. With "Desert Song," I am lost in the torment of both my deepest hopes and darkest fears. And with "Crush," I'm taken back to being a boy-crazy teenaged girl, who had a thing for weirdos and nerds and outcasts...

I owe you a black eye and two kisses

Tell me when you wanna come and get 'em

I only want him if he says it first to me

I wanna, uh, him in the back of his mom's Mercury

He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro Reds

It makes me so, uh, and I can't get enough of it

I remember those times vividly - having a crush was fun. The adrenaline of running into them unexpectedly in the hallway. Spying them out in the wild, hanging out in their natural habitat (the mall). Or praying very loudly in your head not to be paired with them for a class assignment and then, of course, being paired up with them because God needed some entertainment that week. This has happened to me - multiple times. One of several real-world reasons why I think there's something to manifestation. There's this theory in manifestation circles that the Universe doesn't interpret negatives, so if you're praying for something not to happen, it will happen because you're still thinking about it happening. Don't think too hard about that, you'll get paranoid. Anyway, the B-plot in a story/series I'm writing is somewhat of a love story. The characters are younger - not teenaged, because that's over-done, but pre-to-mid Saturn Return - so I'm trying to put myself in that mindset. The intrigue, the hopefulness of meeting a person who you intensely vibe with and looking forward to the possibility of seeing them randomly (or not so randomly) during the course of your day. Does it end badly? It might. Statistically, it probably will - but it'll be an adventure.

Low slung bad bitch, baby, come and get you some

I haven't written here in a bit. Pushing this out into the void, as a sort of kick in the pants. Work is draining, it's hard to find motivation or will to write but the thoughts are still there. Besides, these little "my favorite thing right now" posts are easy, even if they're mostly fluff. Have a good week, dear reader.

Crush - Official Music Video