Quote of the day: "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."- Aldous Huxley

"Hello darkness, my old friend... I've come to talk with you again..."

     ... no one has that place they can go to and focus anymore. we've indulged in every form of stimulation possible, and technology struggles to create more. placate the masses and create a culture that doesn't need to worry itself with petty concerns of reality and thought and what is happening in the world...

"In restless dreams I walked alone..."

     ... and it seems that it's just me that sees this, and I see it not just through my own observation but through the thoughtful reconnaisance of others who walk down the same narrow, cobblestone streets. it isn't enough to see others giving in to what they're told to enjoy, to think, to feel... they try to send it on themselves, to others. "i think/feel/enjoy/believe this and now you do too because that's what we do." that's not what i do...

"And in the naked light I saw... ten thousand people maybe more..."

     ... and we clearly see that we're greatly outnumbered, as the masses are bathed in the barest of cultural attention...

"People talking without speaking..."

     ... there is constant chatter but nothing is being relayed. millions of words read, said, and dead. words that do not signify thought, only obedience. the greatest obedience is when you don't know you're obedient...

"People hearing without listening..."

     ... and following these orders is automatic. it translates to what once was music... binary being fed to us by corporations, with no thought given to its effects... no thought being the best possible scenario. among the last refuges of society and its final warriors, the bards, the musicians... relegated to mere tools of business. we hope that there is no thought to this process but it stinks of method...

"'Fools,' said I, 'you do not know,' silence like a cancer grows..."

     ... but even one conscious thinker, one eloquent recorder, can be counted on to enlighten one receptive soul. a virus to the plan, for sure, but each advance in society makes itself vulnerable to unknown threats. their greatest achievement has led to our greatest hope, and we hastily recoup our mediums of communication so that we may once again talk and listen and sing.

"...but my words like silent raindrops fell..."

     ... and it's not easy but we fight. we fight not just for the love of the fight, but for the love of what we've lost. for it is within what we've lost that gives us our blueprints for the future, that we may build upon the ruins of own design...

"And the people bowed and prayed,
to the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
in the words that it was forming.
And the sign said the words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls...
and tenement halls...
and whispered... in the sounds... of silence."

     ... and the answers are here, and there. they are given to us by the very oppressors that seek to control us. they don't know that they've given us the means and the knowledge to defeat them, and it is up to us to find it. we must learn how to talk once again- to sing, to listen, to share. we need only to refer to that last area of our mind... that place that we can go and focus... and enjoy the sounds of silence.

'The Sounds of Silence,'- Simon & Garfunkel

     ... this is not an interpretation of the song to life. it is an interpretation of life. to song.