David Michael Draiman, lead singer of Disturbed, is both resurrected bard and corporeal narrator in this evocative music video for The Sound of Silence, a cover of the 1964 Simon & Garfunkel classic. It is no fluke that this video has generated well over 527 million views (and counting). It is the perfect union between a somber song inducing introspection, and grayscale visual representations of deeply rooted mythic archetypes nestled firmly in the Western ethos. Even after the passage of over half a century, the lyrical meaning for what fully constitutes ‘the sound of silence’ in public consciousness is still an evolving understanding. The examination here continues that conversation within the context of the seeming nether world conjured in Disturbed’s official video.

527,402,531 views

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9Dg-g7t2l4

Werner Zoglauer, www.mindofhistory.com

“The pavement, alternately black and white, symbolizes, whether so intended or not, the

good and evil principles of the Egyptian and Persian creed. It is the warfare of Michael and

Satan, of the Gods and Titans, of Balder and Lok: between light and shadow, day and

night; freedom and despotism …” Albert Pike, Morals and Dogma of Freemasonry, 1871.

Burning piano keys, and singular piano

notes--like tiptoeing footsteps--start the

song, setting the tempo for the whole

symbol-drenched, audio-visual experience.

Is the sound of silence an internal disorder afflicting

how one communicates with outer realms, or is it an

external phenomena complicating how the masses

navigate communication within?

Choices, akin to individual piano notes, determine a

soul’s harmonious balance with the universe. Where

multitudinous discord can lead to collective

disharmony, a spiritually symphonic-minded

populace will resonate to a higher frequency of

purpose. What happens to those souls reverberating

in discomposure and dissonance? In Disturbed’s

official video for The Sound of Silence, such souls

seem to be languishing in a muted dominion. But is

this hellish sentencing a self-imposed penitence, or is

it karmic justice? Guilt is a fickle executioner.

Hello darkness, my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

A familiar theme found among cosmologies concerns

the divergent principalities of light and dark, which

sparks the persistent demarcation between day and

night. In some of these tales, the two conditions exist

without conflict, while in other cultural renderings, the

dichotomy between true illumination and darkness is

part of an eternal struggle.

In the Biblical Genesis, though darkness clearly

precedes the light, it is not beloved. Consequently,

God made a contrary condition more suitable to his

liking. “God saw that the light was good, and he

separated the light from the darkness.” And in the very

next line, God extended this division into day and night.

While God clearly favors the light, the two domains are

not adversarial. (All the bad stuff happens much later).

Zoroastrianism, however, evolved a more immediate,

precarious duality. Though endowed with certain

advantages, Ahura Mazda of the Endless Light

contested daily with Angra Mainyu (Ahriman), who

personified the Endless Dark. Their skirmishing is fated to

continue until Gochihr, a meteor, crashes to earth, with

its “fire and halo” setting the whole world aflame.

Although the Darkness in Disturbed’s official video for

The Sound of Silence is omnipresent, it does not appear

to be openly malevolent. Hence, this ethereal realm

seems to exist more for edification than damnation.

The lyrics indicate there is no estrangement or animus

between the bard (David Michael Draiman) and

Darkness itself. The bard greets Darkness on its terms,

respectfully enveloped in shadow with eyes closed. He

wishes to speak with his old friend, not condescendingly

to. As the bard begins his testimony, light quietly fades

in, symbolically complementing the vision he received.

And the vision that was planted in my brainStill remains

Within the sound of silence

A full manifestation of light encompasses the bard’s now wide-eyed visage the moment he says ‘vision’ a 2nd time. Here, the bard has revealed his knowingness to the Darkness; he has no fear while immersed in light. Nor is the bard afraid to transmute to the Darkness mental images of his vision. A guitar is unearthed, and a drum is reached for on high. These instruments of earth and sky (chords and tones) will be the means of spiritual elevation or necromantic extrication for souls to abscond from their plane of silence and darkness. It is perhaps instructive to note the bard mentioning he has a brain. Rhyming scheme aside, while a pale shade of the underworld will still have a mind, it will not have a brain, per se. Our bard is human and this song is his tale of vibrational ascension, and the visual conjurations he conveys to the Darkness show how others will follow his path back to the living, where the Darkness has no jurisdiction, and ironically, no voice.

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

The true pilgrim’s path is never easy. Even when the footing is sure, the destination can be

unclear. Fortunately, though the guitarist and drummer walk independently, they are not

spiritually unaccompanied. They have the example set forth by the bard to steady and direct

their steps. At least the halo of this street lamp projects some hope into the mist, unlike the fiery

halo of despair of Gochihr’s end times fame. There is further evidence to indicate physical form

and function have returned to the bard’s apostles undertaking this journey. Environmental

factors such as the ‘cold and damp’ must be endured. The answer to how this transformation

from spirit-to-flesh was made possible is provided in the upcoming three lines on the next page.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Excerpt from The Road Not Taken

By Robert Frost

'Neath the halo of a street lamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night

And touched the sound of silence

The word ‘neon’ is most operative here. To a person living in an urban setting, a

neon light might represent a commercial calling for all materialistic and hedonistic

cravings of the flesh. However, for our bard and narrator who was, presumably, a

spirit caught up in a state of purgatory, the neon light acted as a catalyst by

introducing a new stimulus into his mundane afterlife existence. Etymologically,

the word neon is derivative of the Greek neos, meaning new. Neon is also a rare

atmospheric gaseous element (Ne), occurring 1 part in 55,000. The eyes are a

window unto the soul, are they not? Seeing a sudden, unexpected flash of this

scarce airy component in these infernal regions evidently woke our narrator from

his ghostly torpor, and, if it did not yet fully restore his physicality, it most certainly

reestablished his physiological desires. The flash of neon light didn’t just stab the

bard’s eyes, it imbued him with human cognition, as it implanted the guiding

vision into his brain. By splitting the night, and touching the sound of silence, this

neon spectrum fortuitously cracked the defenses of darkness, providing a means

of egress from the binding spell of limbo.

And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more

Once the bard’s eyes fully adjusted, he not only saw

through the neon diffusion, he was able to see the

light, naked---shorn of its prisms. And in his expanded

awareness he saw ‘ten thousand people, maybe

more’ still stuck in the illusion that is their prison. The

guitarist, standing along the same shore where the

bard stood, has no doubt had the same revelation.

People talking without speaking

Janus is the Roman two-headed god responsible for

gates, doorways, transitions and time. None can depart

or return without his gaze upon them. Janus sees all

coming and going, past and present. In one legend,

Janus, who was tasked with opening fountain channels,

thwarted an invasion of Rome by unleashing a stream of

boiling water that blocked the path of a would-be

invader, the Sabine Tatius. Defying Janus brought

immediate consequences. In the oldest traditions, he was

a type of sky father accorded the respectful title of Janus

Pater.

In the video, an empyreal Janus seems to be

admonishing the inhabitants of the underworld for

‘talking without speaking’. For Janus, there is little point to

talking in a place of perdition if an entity cannot speak

the words of power to pass beyond the gates. Death

and darkness can dull intellect and intonation. It may be

that the dead in this Hades lack the capacity for proper

articulatable human speech. Their mouths might move to

give utterances to their cries but their spectral minds are

too dimmed to remember the discernable words for rite

of passage. Is this the sound of silence?

People hearing without listening

In Egyptian mythology, the sky goddess Nut is the vault of

heaven. She is the barrier between the Chaos without and

the orderliness within. Her elongated abdomen encumbers all

known existence; her bent over features hem in reality. Nut’s

fingers and toes drape down to her husband, Geb, who is the earth. This links Nut with a sensory perception with all that

happens as above, so below. In part, this ‘as above, so

below’ duality makes Nut an ideal protectress for the dead.

In perpetuity, the sun is born each morning from her womb.

What little light passes to the nether world is Nut’s maternal

doing, for all occurs under her firmament. Though diluted, the

labor-pushed presence of this illumination seeping into their

plane of torment is an extension of Nut’s love (and

atmospheric nourishment) for the disincarnate entities who

cannot partake of the sun’s full radiance on the earth’s

surface. In the video, the light itself is a message of hope: The

Light and the Word are one. And though they are bathed in

the Word of the Light, its potency and veracity are almost

imperceptible above the ceaseless wailing and moaning of

the accursed. Too many voices in mayhem occlude the

stillness within. This is how one hears without listening.

People writing songs that voices never share

As illustrated by the closing of the loop for the half note, the circle of life must continue. It is imperative that those with the creative impetus to write songs (who cannot sing) find true voices to verbalize and vocalize the vibrations and intentions of their words and musical notes. Sharing ensures legacy and remembrance. Not all can be so lucky to be regularly named in prayer or cited in eulogy. A ghost withers most when it is forgotten and forsaken.

The role of ancestor worship was a much more serious affair in occidental legacy than it is today. The ancient Romans, for example, devoted cautious consideration to Lares and Penates, deified familial antecedents and household gods. Venerating the deceased was not just an act of virtue, it was a means of preservation for one’s self, and family. Properly propitiated, the dead were tasked with protecting the city.

How doubly lamentable it must be then for mired-down beings warped in this silence to be bereft of both deeds and glory.

And no one dared

That is, no one dared until now. The line

is both truth and contradiction. No one

among the dead had ever dared until

the resurrected bard and corporeal

(spirit-made-flesh) narrator was stirred to

action. Living blood is a powerful avatar.

Homer, Odyssey, Book XI:

‘Teiresias, my life runs on then as the gods have spun it.But come, now, tell me this: make this thing clear:I see my mother’s ghost among the deadsitting in silence near the blood. Not oncehas she glanced this way toward her son, nor spoken.Tell me, my lord, may she in some way come to know my presence?’

To this he answered:‘I shall make it clear

in a few words and simply. Any dead manwhom you allow to enter where the blood iswill speak to you, and speak the truth; but thosedeprived will grow remote again and fade.’ When he had prophesied, Teiresias’ shaderetired lordly to the halls of Death;but I stood fast until my mother stirred,moving to sip the black blood; then she knew meand called out sorrowfully to me.

Disturb the sound of silence

To disrupt the dirt is to disturb the sound of silence. The dusty infertility of the soil, the half-buried and forlorn instruments seemingly forgotten or discarded by their owners, and the song sheets smothered in dirt are all symbolic of wasted creativity, and possibly ill spent lives. On the further shore, on hands and knees the inmates of this hopeless sanctum slowly ponder paper artifacts reminiscent of their former humanly existence. Willing themselves to stand with the songs of their lives in hand is the first step towards spiritual sovereignty. Only then will each unique voice be able to disturb the sound of silence.

“Fools" said I, "You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you"

The bard knows fully well how this sullen underworld

metastasizes darkness into inertness, quietness and

loneliness. To rouse these souls from their shadowy

stupor, the bard discarded his role as simply narrator

to one of more active magical participant. Here he

casts the spell of his voice afar as the drummer

smites a score, and it nearly works to reel in the spirits

stranded on the further shore. However, the distance

is still too vast for the guitarist to reach them with

connecting chords of consciousness.

But my words like silent raindrops fell

There are two principles of elemental knowing at play in this matrix: (1) Water is memory.

(2) The conscious observer can impact his or her natural environment. Japanese

researcher Dr. Masaru Emoto advanced a theory that crystalized water reflected the

vibrations of positive or negative energies directed at it. Harmonious vibrations fashioned

beautifully intricate designs, while discordant vibrations created malformed arrangements.

In short, the double-slit experiment suggests light and matter can behave as both waves or

particles depending upon if they are observed or not. Though the bard has poured his

stream of consciousness into words (particles), and individually each soul willed itself to

stand with their song of life in hand, they are nevertheless behaving in a malignant group

wave pattern, malleable to the observant wishes of the Darkness.

“The world is changed: I feel it in thewater, I feel it in the earth, I smell itin the air...Much that once was is lost,for none now live who remember it.”Galadriel, Lord of the Rings, Fellowship of the Ring

And echoed in the wells of silence

Revelation 11:3. “And I will grant authority to my two witnesses, and they will prophesy for 1,260 days, clothed in sackcloth.”

The souls locked in this wretchedness are ‘the wells

of silence’. Do humans mirror their surroundings? The

earth is covered by 71% water; the average human

contains up to 70% water. If the average 3rd

dimensional human vessel is considered a well that

is approximately 70% full, then one may wonder the

percentage of water below the necessary threshold

a disembodied entity existing in a non-corporeal

realm contains. Carrying over the supposition from

the previous page, that water is memory, it might be assumed that a spirit’s incapacity to store water,

even at the cellular level, is part of what induces

otherworldly senescence for human concerns. A

very empty ghostly well equals much echoing.

Meanwhile, the only individuals outside of the

narrator that seem to have autonomy and a soulful

determination are the drummer and guitarist. The

imagery of the two standing alone unassailed by the

darkness is reminiscent of Revelation 11:3.

And the people bowed and prayedTo the neon god they made

They had nearly done it. Arising from the dust, these

phantoms of purgatory had taken up the songs of their

lives in hand and journeyed to the waterline for a

dimensional disembarkation. Unfortunately, their energies

regressed when they were bewitched by their own life

song’s neon reflection. Whether through agency of the

darkness or just from deluded perceptions, they could

not stop worshipping their own mirroring image.

And the sign flashed out its warning

The Bard’s two witnesses stand in flesh-and-blood testimony while their ethereal brethren take up spiritual instruments of equity. ‘The sign’ is attempting to effect a correction in collective karma but it is up to each soul to atone for the guilt of an extrapolated past. And the two witnesses are there to make sure the moment exists in a deterministic reality.

In the picture immediately below, the caption is headlined: “Justinian And His Ministers With Bishop Maximian Signalize The Reconquest Of Italy.” Soldiers, civil authorities, and clergymen flank the emperor who holds a bowl for the Eucharist. Justinian is not just boasting east has conquered west militarily and politically, he is declaring his temporal successes were sanctioned by spiritual hierarchies.

In the words that it was forming

Pictured left: Once upon a time, on September 30, 1938, the United Kingdom’s Prime Minister

Neville Chamberlain held what he thought were binding words of power for ‘Peace in Our

Time’. The words failed and war came. It is a forever example against the blind enticement of

words not consecrated by light and reason. Pictured above: The souls at the shoreline are still

mesmerized by their own mirroring image. New words had to form to break this enchantment.

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets

Are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls"

There are no permanent

standing structures in this

gloomy nether world.

Instead, there are gray

skies for subway walls

and ship hulls for

temporary tenement

halls. If and when the

words of the prophets do

appear, they will have to

manifest as above, so

below, as a sign flashing

out its warning.

And whispered in the sounds

This is the bard’s last emphatic attempt to

counteract the hypnotic effects of silence that

permeate the darkness. Meanwhile, the two

witnesses and spirit musicians have not been

idle; by means unknown they have procured or

manifested a sturdy vessel. There is something

cyclical about the words of the prophets in this

timeless terrain. Even if they miss the mark and

souls fail to board the transformational ark,

words like seedlings (whispered in the sounds)

will eventually implant visions to those still

sleeping, and the bard will begin his song anew.

In Greek mythology, Eudaemons (or Eudemons)

were guardian spirits who whispered good

advice in the ears of humans they were

assigned to watch over. In one sense, a

Eudaemon is simply a personification for when

humans listen to the better angels of their

nature. It is good advice imparted by the higher

self. No matter how long a soul lingers

cocooned in total silence and darkness, the

imperishable higher self eventually prevails.

of silenceThe same singular piano notes that began

the song now provide its bookend. Once

again it symbolizes a soul’s harmonious

balance with the universe, forged by

choices seen and unforeseen. Some will

harken unto the message (of chords and

tones) the musicians bring, some will not.

The silence is the voice

of darkness; it is the

essence and totality of

darkness, and it is out of

desired sympathy with its

condition that the

darkness imposes silence

on others in its realm.

Homer, Odyssey, Book XI:

‘My son, how have you come while still alive

down to this sad darkness? For living men it’s

difficult to come and see these things—

huge rivers, fearful waters, stand between

us, first and foremost Oceanus, which no

man can cross on foot. He needs a sturdy

ship.’

Anticlea, Mother of Odysseus

The inhabitants on the right side of

the screen stand at rigid attention

like abandoned megalithic Easter

Island Moai. The musicians have

come with their instruments of

ascendancy or necromancy,

needing only the words and notes

(that voices never share) to

complete the ritual that could

reanimate their lifeless limbs and

return them to living sentience. The

morning sun rises just as the last

beat of the song concludes. It is a

most auspicious sign, symbolizing

liberation and the rebirth of creative

energies. Freedom is only a

wavelength away.

The Sound of Silence

Hello darkness, my old friendI've come to talk with you againBecause a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleepingAnd the vision that was planted in my brainStill remainsWithin the sound of silenceIn restless dreams I walked aloneNarrow streets of cobblestone'Neath the halo of a street lampI turned my collar to the cold and dampWhen my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the nightAnd touched the sound of silenceAnd in the naked light I sawTen thousand people, maybe morePeople talking without speakingPeople hearing without listeningPeople writing songs that voices never shareNo one daredDisturb the sound of silence"Fools" said I, "You do not knowSilence like a cancer growsHear my words that I might teach youTake my arms that I might reach you"But my words like silent raindrops fellAnd echoed in the wells of silenceAnd the people bowed and prayedTo the neon god they madeAnd the sign flashed out its warningIn the words that it was formingAnd the sign said, "The words of the prophetsAre written on the subway wallsAnd tenement halls"And whispered in the sounds of silence

Written by Paul Simon

www.mindofhistory.com