Resonance

It all comes down to resonance. If matter is, indeed, just energy condensed to a slow vibration, then we must be a pack of discordant half-wits playing bard. One struggles to find a single place on this sphere where the would-be musicians resound in harmony. Cacophonous cackling crows, the whole lot of us. Twanging this heart string and puncturing that ear drum, we press on, like so many fools trying to sing a melody in falsetto.

Long gone are the days of Chopin, Mozart, Brahms, we've ushered in the detestable "popular" music, an intrinsically bankrupt exercise in saying nothing without missing a word. Aesthetics? Child, please, we prefer musical mish-mash produced by algorithms and greedy executives. Intellectually numb lyrics ring out from sycophants and play-acting "rebels" like a monotone opera.

Bastions of production and consumption, we are not meant to be. You're in charge of how much reverb is placed upon your life. You can fade out into nothing or you can define a sonic precedent and echo for eternity.

Author's Note

5/19/13