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View Full Version : POLL... favorite U2 song..



minnesotagbfan
11-20-2000, 03:06 AM
:)N

minnesotagbfan
11-20-2000, 03:07 AM
my fave is ..pride in the name of loveN

major tom
11-20-2000, 10:04 AM
Sunday bloody Sunday. Love, love, love that song.
<br>
<br>KirstyN

Pilgrim
11-20-2000, 12:27 PM
Sunday Bloody Sunday is a great song:):) But I voted other for "Desire":)
<br>
<br>BrianN

hugeGBnutt
11-20-2000, 03:51 PM
Wow, this is a hard decision for me cause they are my very fav band, and there are way to many songs to chose from, but one of my favorite is "Bad"!:):):), but that may not be my fav next week:rolleyes:
<br>
<br>.Ari.N

cybersadie
11-21-2000, 07:03 AM
Also a very hard decision for me because I think U2 is so great. Can I vote for all of Joshua Tree? No, how about all of Achtung Baby? Still, no?
<br>
<br>All right then I chose other because it would either be "So Cruel" or the MLK song.N

fuzzwuzz
11-22-2000, 08:39 PM
I wanted so bad to vote for I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For but went for 'other' because there is one song by U2 that they do so well live on video that blows me away everytime I see it, Bullet the Blue Sky. Does anyone know the true story behind this song?
<br> The other one I really like because I feel as Bono does, that "you know I believe it. (the kingdom come and how Jesus carried the cross and all my shame), but I still haven't found what I'm looking for)." There's still more good things to come in search of our fullness in faith in God. The song just gives me a craving for pure joy in the face of human struggle in day to day living.N

hugeGBnutt
11-23-2000, 06:21 PM
fuzzwazz,
<br>
<br>here is a interpretation i found of Bullet The Blue Sky at a site that focuses on the meaning of U2's lyrics....
<br>
<br>
Well, as in many things, it is slightly open to interpretation. But from reading the lyrics and reading a few books where Bono talks about the song... It is musically supposed to represent the bombings of El Salvadorian towns during its civil war by US planes. It is about the United States' policy of supporting dictators in 3rd world countries to oppose the spread of communism. But more than all this, it is about the way war destroys people. When originally writing the lyrics, Bono was not sure if he should say, And we run, into the arms...of America. or Into the arms of the world so as not to offend Americans. Obviously he stuck with the first. Bono and Edge say his guitar solo in it is supposed to be the keen of the bombs being dropped, and the rage of the war machines.
<br>
<br>hope that helps!:)
<br>
<br>.Ari.<P>(This message has been edited by hugeGBnutt)N

fuzzwuzz
11-23-2000, 07:59 PM
Thanks ARI. Yes it helps! I can almost FEEL that song go right through me. Must be that 'rage' for true peace eating at me! And the desire to see it fulfilled on the earth. I wonder if that's the emotion the band is trying to effect with it? Or maybe I'm just feeling what they are feeling. It's quite powerful, but it should be! We are being destroyed by war of all kinds. N

Garth1
12-01-2000, 12:28 PM
Satellite of Love !!
<br>I know it's a Lou Reed song, but I just love U2's version of it.
<br>
<br>Paul. :)N

meli
12-10-2000, 07:24 PM
Mine is One, though right behind it are MOFO and Wild Honey, off the new CD.N

fuzzwuzz
09-21-2001, 11:29 PM
OMG! I looked up this older thread again because I remember trying to describe here some of the emotion I was feeling as a result of that powerful song. I can't believe some of the things I said, because now that emotion has a 'face' as a result of this tragedy. Like it's come to life.
When I hear Bono singing about the women and children running into the arms of America, well, it would seem now the whole world is turning to us at this very moment in history!!!

If anybody cares to post the lyrics, some may be surprised by that song. But as stated in another reply, there is something about the guitar solo and their screeching that has always made it seem so damn real to me. Such as
and I can see those fighter planes
and I can see those fighter planes
across the mudhuts as the children sleep
through the alleys of a quiet city street
up the staircase to the first floor
we turn the key and slowly unlock the door
a man breathes into his saxophone
through the walls we hear the city groan
outside it's America
outside it's America
America...

maybe some would rather not think on these things right now, but I am finding the music a comfort to me, and even though it stings, we MUST face the music that's somehow been singing our song all along. It will help heal us if we do. We need not fear it. And by the way, they played "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas at my neices funeral 3 days after the tragedy(hers was the result of a car crash)and it was NOT taken the wrong way as some are suggesting it would be now. In fact, it helped us greatly deal with her death in the midst of the other tragedy which complicated all our lives and her funeral plans last week.

no1cowgirl
09-22-2001, 01:06 AM
How long,
How long must we sing this song?
How long,
How long?
'Cause tonight,
We can be as one,
Tonight,
Sunday, Bloody, Sunday,
Sunday, Bloody, Sunday...

Funny how well that song fits life sometimes right now...

I love that song. I get to see U2 and No Doubt soon, too. :)

Krista

hugeGBnutt
09-22-2001, 01:57 AM
speaking of "Sunday Bloody Sunday", because of the tragedy they are pulling some songs off of the radio because of 'questionable content' and one happens to be SBS; very dumb!:rolleyes:, i think songs like SBS needed to be played now not banned!

hehe, i'm gonna see U2 again too, thank God they are coming back to America!:D:D:D:cool:

no1cowgirl
09-22-2001, 03:02 AM
Ari-
What??? What the heck is that???


Krista

XFER
09-22-2001, 06:12 PM
Is this a poll with no poll?

Well, i only like the album pop and the song one, so I choose One :)

fuzzwuzz
09-23-2001, 02:31 AM
Krista, I'm glad you brought up Sunday, Bloody, Sunday. I received a though-proving email from www.RELEVANTmagazine.com that sees the emotion of the tragedy in light of that U2 tune. I guess we are singing it with a little more understanding now.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001:
How Long Must We Sing This Song?
by Kate Bowman
Last Saturday night, two friends and I sat in a sparsely furnished apartment, mulling over the various eccentricities and afflictions of our generation. I recalled some research I'd done indicating that people who fall under the broad umbrella of "Generation X" could not, in a general survey, come up with a shared experience that united those in their age group. While our grandparents name World War II as a common denominator and our parents will never forget where they were when they heard JFK was assassinated, our own generation finds camaraderie in the form of fragmented culture and the fact that we all have radically divergent life experiences. One of my friends pointed out that this was largely because we'd never had a war to unite in—or against—or a tragic event to rally us.

By Tuesday morning, not three days later, all that had changed.

I can't believe the news today.

September 11th started like all my Tuesdays this semester. I was running late to my 8:30 a.m. class, clumsily gathering books and pouring a mug of coffee before rushing out the door. As I left the house, I heard the muffled drone of the television upstairs, which registered as unusual-no one I live with is consistent about watching the news.

Jumping in my car and heading down 2nd Street, I flicked on the radio. The deejay was halfway through a broadcast, making vague but urgent-sounding allusions to a plane crash. I figured it was something that had happened locally and didn't take much notice, more intent on getting to class on time.

I pulled into a parking spot by the communications building and was about to turn off the ignition when I heard something that made my blood run cold. "For those of you just joining us," the announcer said, "two planes have crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City in what is believed to be a terrorist attack."

I put my head on the steering wheel and burst into tears. Making it to philosophy class was no longer a concern.

Oh, I can't close my eyes and make it go away.

I spent the next four hours in the student union, periodically tearing myself from the big-screen televisions to call my parents in south Connecticut. I grew up there. My dad works in New York City. The first time I was able to get through to my mother, her voice immediately grew shaky. "It was a fluke—your dad didn't go to work today," she told me through her tears. "But a lot of other people did. To think they didn't even know this would happen…" I spoke to my father, who was more upset than I had ever heard him. He's worked uptown from the World Trade Center for 20 years. "Everything's different now," he said.

In between conversations with my family, I sat numbly before the television, trying to process what was going on. More students and faculty members jammed into the union, mouths agape, eager for updates and reassurance that there had been some mistake. But the news kept getting worse. By 9:40 a.m., CNN was reporting a cloud of smoke billowing from behind the old executive offices in Washington D.C. A few minutes later, they confirmed that another hijacked plane had crashed into the Pentagon. The reporters sounded as shocked and confused as we were.

I moved to another TV showing Fox news. Their reporter on the street had made it up close to the twin towers and was attempting to interview those leaving the area. Almost no one wanted to talk. A few people stumbled by in a daze, barely alive, wearing business suits and completely caked with crumbled concrete and soot.

Any memory of details fails me at this point. I remember my friend Rob, a fellow Tri-State area resident, sitting down next to me with tears in his eyes, and the next thing I knew, the South Tower had collapsed. I watched, shell-shocked, on the verge of fainting, as they replayed the video reel over and over. The Fox reporter, his voice shaking uncontrollably, indicated that he was unable to connect with his cameraman on the street—"I don't know if he's dead or alive." Everyone was silent in the union. Surely this couldn't be happening. Weren't we the U.S.A.? Weren't the twin towers and our military epicenter indestructible? Wasn't America invincible?

More hijacked plane crashes and decimation of monuments indicated otherwise.

The trench is dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart.

When the dust settled, New York was a silent shell of its former splendor, smoldering and smoking as though a bomb had hit it. Not only was the unmistakable skyline I'd grown up with changed forever—both WTC towers had been decimated—but thousands upon thousands of people were dead. No one even wanted to attempt a death toll estimation. Holding at a friend's photos of the New York City skyline, taken several years ago, I slowly placed two fingers over the World Trade towers and tried to imagine what the new landscape would look like once the smoke cleared. Impossible.

And today the millions cry.
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.

I was riveted to the television still, hoping that if I watched the footage of the plane crashes and the tower collapses enough times, they would stop looking like a high-tech disaster movie and start feeling real. The tragedy, however, remained mostly abstract. The only feeling I could truly identify was outrage that my university continued as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was a beautiful day in Indiana; you would never know that the free world as we know it was hanging together by a thread. Thousands of people were suffering, dying or dead, thousands more were mourning and preparing to mourn. Yet at school, life went on. Students who needed to grieve were treated as if they were deviant junior highers looking for any excuse to get out of class. We took an hour out of the day to come together, but God forbid prayer and mourning should interfere with business as usual. Come, Holy Spirit; come, Lord Jesus—but keep it to under an hour, please, the children have to get back to their calculus and American literature.

How long must we sing this song?

I have not had enough distance from the tragedy, nor enough time or opportunity, to properly grieve and process the impact of everything that has come to pass. The fact is, I'm at as much of a loss as everyone else. I am grieving and numb, though my hope remains in the sovereignty and compassion of Christ.

The ramifications of Tuesday's events are not over. It may be difficult for us to realize out in the cornfields of the Midwest, but the times, they are a-changin', and they're a-changin' quickly—-in the blink of an eye—a first for our generation to grapple with.

I received an email from my father today that summed up an experience that we, out here, physically far removed from the events, cannot possibly conceive—but must try to, out of basic human empathy and solidarity as the body of Christ in particular:

"I went back to Manhattan today," he wrote. "It was eerily somber and subdued, with far fewer people on the streets than usual. But there was a large and widespread police presence. Entering a 'public building,' like the one I work in, is no longer a casual and free occurrence.

"When I got to work this morning, there was a line of 50 people. Each of us had ID checked, and wrote our names and destinations in a log. I observed this kind of close scrutiny in all the buildings I looked at, including small ones. This added security increases our sense of safety, but is definitely a change in what we have thought of as freedom. I think this new vigilance will be the price of our national freedoms from now on. Our routines may change, but the principles that Americans live for will remain the same.

"There was a bomb threat at Grand Central around noon, so they evacuated it. We must take these threats very seriously now. I decided to send my group home, out of the city, out of potential harm's way. Friends from Stamford drove me home to Fairfield [Connecticut]. I've decided not to return to the city tomorrow. It's a National Day of Prayer, and I'll be here [at home] for it.

"I've also told my group, and my clients, that we will not be flying anywhere, for any reason, until I am personally satisfied that it is completely safe to do so.

"Before I left today, I got to see many of my friends at work. We commiserated with each other, and hugged, and cried. I handed out about 30 copies of Bible verses that Mom had given me, to comfort and encourage my friends. I pray that God will use these dreadful times of fear and loss to draw my friends to come to know His Son."


(Italicized lyrics from "Sunday Bloody Sunday" by U2)

AgainstTheGrain
09-23-2001, 04:28 AM
who is this minnesotagbfan?:rolleyes:

fuzzwuzz
09-23-2001, 11:33 AM
Russ, are you around still?

AgainstTheGrain
09-23-2001, 03:21 PM
yup...im right here

fuzzwuzz
09-24-2001, 01:09 AM
oh wow! so you are that masked man! hiya Russ!

meli
09-24-2001, 06:36 PM
You know, I haven't been able to listen to "Bullet the Blue Sky" since it happened. A couple of nights after the WTC attack I was out at dinner and very absently played it on the jukebox. By the time the song was over I was trying desperately to make myself blend into the woodwork. It was the first time I ever actually felt the terror in that song. I'd always felt the anger, but never the sheer terror.

btw, Bono wrote this song after an Amnesty International trip to El Salvador and the hillside near the village he was visiting was bombed. Supposedly the villagers were unfazed because they knew the planes were nowhere near the village, but he was scared to death.

fuzzwuzz
09-24-2001, 10:08 PM
Meli, I can understand the song making you uncomfortable. Bono did a good job sharing his real emotions and turmoil through that song after seeing the results of war. Now his terror echoes ours and it's downright spooky, yet reassuring we are not alone in our terror. We ALL witnessed this one by surprise. Now overnight all our lives have been changed forever. And our world. I remember Garth saying somewhere that fear is wisdom and for our protection. In a strange way it can comfort us as it protects. We can find 'shelter' huddling together finding each other in the dark.

I don't mean to be so philosophical, just want to reassure those whose emotions are demanding to come to the surface to not be afraid. We ALL feel the same, as we heal and move forward together.

It's powerful songs like Bullet The Blue Sky that reminds me I am so alive that I can FEEL IT in the song. It gives me strength and courage to face the fear, like Garth's song Face To Face, it's what's inside us that's our real battle, and if we do face it, our better human side always wins!

Scarecrow
10-17-2001, 04:53 AM
:)

Wendi5000
10-17-2001, 06:19 PM
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

I only recently discovered U2... they never were big on the radio around here... but I LOVE that song :)

versace_girl
10-20-2001, 07:12 PM
mines gotta be ONE though theres alot of their songs i havent really heard but out the ones i have so far its ONE

wabbit
03-27-2002, 07:43 PM
With or without you :) I love 'Beautiful Day' too :)