A Pre-Millennial Dispensationalist Allegory
Jeffrey A. Tucker wrote: that Rebecca Black's "Friday" is "a libertarian allegory," to which others responded with alternate interpretations.
It is sad that in all the hedonic frenzy over this song, the true nature of Rebecca Black’s message, like that of all prophets, goes unheeded. "Friday" is nothing less that a call for Christian piety and repentance, a stern warning of the sinful and hollow nature of the world from which the righteous must remove themselves, but also an optimistic reminder of the life ahead for those who reject it. As you ride through this life, which seat will you choose? to ‘kick it’ in the front seat of sin, power and control? or to 'sit' in the backseat, obedient to the grace of a higher power?
"Friday" begins with a reminder of symbolic time, the theme that pervades its text. An alarm clock speeds through its count at an unnatural pace, as if to remind us that eternal time is unbound by profane reckoning, before then stopping on the all-important number seven. Seven being the days of the first week, and a metaphor for the dispensations of the world. This is the morning of Friday, and at dusk will come the Sabbath — the Millennium of Christ's reign. It is a reminder to each of us that we must live this life as if we may be called imminently to judgment. But it is also a reminder that we can 'look forward to the weekend' — the eternal kingdom of God! Shortly after, Black confirms her meaning in a seemingly-extraneous reference to cereal, which serves to remind us of W.K. Kellogg, the devout Seventh-Day Adventist who invented cereal as a food to be stored in case of a pre-Millennial apocalypse.
As Black arises from her bed we are entreated to visions of the superficiality around us. 'Everyone is rushing' around a superficial world, concerned with the superficial minutia of the profane world, while Black stands transcendent within it all, relaxed and slow, concerned with the eternal life to come, not the hubbub around her. Soon, at the bus stop, she is confronted by the people of the world, who present her with a choice of how to live, symbolized by the 'front seat' or the 'back seat.' Black presents this as a choice, but we can clearly see that the only true choice is the back. Whereas there is always a seat open in the light of God's love, she would have to fight or scuffle or wedge herself into the 'front seat' — a bitter metaphor for the strife and conflict of a self-centered life. Black may appear to endorse a frivolous life of 'party' and 'fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun' — but the hollowness of her words and their lifeless delivery are instead a mockery of these temporal pleasures. Our only true choice is to be in the world, but not of the world.
Lest all this message be lost, Black continues to point out the metaphor. 'I've got this \ You've got this \ My friend is by my right.' A clear reference to the Messiah, seated at the right hand of the father. Black stays centered on her place in the divide plan. To remind us of what is so transparent, yet so easily forgettable, she recounts the ordering of the Dispensational week. Yesterday was Thursday, a day when we might have forgotten the coming approach of judgment. But that day is yesterday, not today, and we cannot turn the clock back to it. Today is Friday, when we must turn our attention to the spiritual, to look forward: to the weekend! For tomorrow is Saturday, the Millennium of Christ’s reign, foretold by John in Revelation.
And beyond that? Sunday. The final judgment of God and the Eternal Kingdom. Black doesn't 'want this weekend to end' and the true weekend to which she refers, the everlasting bounty of Christ, never will!