Tea at Tympani Lane Records

World Message of Peace

In the quiet of Summer night at Tea at Tympani Lane Records. With the computer back online I am busy planning for the next CD, organizing songs, photos and CD cover. Writing continues with a new book of poetry stirring called Radio Storms featuring the poem of the same name and Somewhere between twilight. Two new songs, Day passes night . . . (to finish The Madrigal CD) and All the wild horses . . . (to begin the next phase of songwriting) have been inspired by the Muse. Performances in the stone caverns of the Metro plan to continue in late August amongst the quiet dream of Montreal . . .

The following thoughts on the Cyber Economy were inspired by observations read in a social economy journal. Currently, a certain percentage of people are eating alone, bowling alone and working constantly. A sense of Community has been lost and replaced by a cyber space Community that may or not connect in real time. It is easy to be in touch with people through email, cell phone, telephony but bowling leagues or places of social gathering have lessened. It almost seems as if people have stopped talking to each other in fortress suburbia, possibly, partly because of the “sex wars” and/or cocooning as “gun barrel mentality.” Suburban urban badlands remind me of drive movies and scenes from The Wasteland, a place that really has no direction, where people ride around surrounded by 1,000 lbs. of metal, in the fortress car that you still owe payments on. People drive from the overly mortgaged fortress house, that looks pretty much like all the other miles and miles of overly mortgaged house fortresses to the work fortress and then from the house fortress to the supermarket fortress and then back to the house fortress, all in the comfort of air-conditioned rolled synthetic seats that speed like fortress bullets through the night , with your hands tight, tight on the steering wheel. Sometimes people work in the fortress house due to the invention of the free hold Internet, which increases being there for bringing up the kids who are usually watching tv or playing video on the game card on another Internet, and no they don’t want a hug. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh Suburbia . . . The Internet increases cocooning, as you travel from the bedroom, to the office by way of the kitchen so the ritual goes, until one day you forget to bathe, and you can’t quite remember what day that was but it was also the day you started to truly live over the Internet. You start to order in groceries, food orders in, movies, news, music, after awhile you never feel too compelled to leave your office . . . there is no need to talk to anyone, it is safe to cower in the sanctity of silence. After awhile your husband stops talking to you, there is no need to talk to him, if you talk to him there is an argument that starts with you’re not bathing enough. Your husband quietly slips away and takes the children, you can’t quite remember how the divorce settlement went but you kept your office and you become one of the ever increasing statistics of people living alone. Suddenly, the traditional music and DVD stores start quietly disappearing on Main Street, and the automated man on the Internet Chat Service begins to look like someone you know. One day you decide to head into town for a coffee but everyone is ordering in coffee from their at-home offices and there are no more traditional coffee shops. Until one day there is nowhere to go and no one to talk to, you quietly notice your bathrobe needs to be laundered and slowly enter your Hotmail account to email the Laundromat . . .

However anyone who lives downtown will tell you, everything is alright in the “hood” . . .



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