When things, signs or actions
are forced from their respective ideas, concepts, essences, values, points of reference, origins, and aims,

they embark upon an endless process of self-reproduction.

Yet things continue to function long after their ideas have disappeared,
and they do so in total indifference to their own content.

The paradoxical fact is that they function even better under these circumstances.
…the idea of progress has disappeared, yet progress continues.

The idea of wealth production once connoted, has disappeared,
yet production itself continues more vigorously than ever.

Indeed, it picks up speed
precisely in proportion to its increasing indifference to its original aims.
Of the political sphere one can say that the idea of politics has disappeared
but that the game of politics continues in secret indifference to its own stakes.
Of television, that it operates in total indifference to its own images
(it would not be affected, in other words, even were mankind to disappear.)

Excerpt, The Transparency of Evil, After the Orgy by Jean Baudrillard p. 6

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What is to be said?  After surprise, the adrenaline rush of discovery, one settles into a featureless landscape, neighborhoods of look-alike cookie cutter houses…  Or into the intellectual atmosphere of hyper abundance of communication channels, all vying for attention.  One attempts to attend to 2 or 3 at a time, parsing one’s mental processing capacity, rapidly sampling back and forth:  Facebook, email, SMS texts, and the occasional retro phone call. Too much = just noise.

As to video media, television, the offerings of streaming: Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu, Acorn — add your favorites.  Sort through the dreck, and the mind of the viewer is assaulted by trigger laden commercials, coming in rapid fire.

Politics is hardly worth a mention.  One party, formerly known as Republican, is haunted by a leader, barely removed from office by result of the last election.  Followers are held in thrall by coercion, and a relentless propaganda machine that massages the masses 24×7.  The alternate party, faintly recognizable as the Democratic Party is held hostage by one member from West Virginia.  The party is obstructed, hobbled by his allegiance to the totalitarian, white male, racist social vision of the opposing party.

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How about a tune to get us through, a gray, chilly Saturday morning?  Yes!  By the way, what is more fundamental, tune or  lyric?  The melody — always!

Twilight Zone

By Golden Earring

Somewhere in a lonely hotel room there’s a guy starting to realize that eternal fate has turned its back on him.
It’s two A.M.

It’s two A.M., it’s two A.M
The fear has gone, the fear has gone
I’m sittin’ here waitin’, the gun’s still warm
Sittin’ here waitin’, the gun’s still warm
Maybe my connection is tired of takin’ chances
Yeah there’s a storm on the loose, sirens in my head
Wrapped up in silence, all circuits are dead
Cannot decode, my whole life spins into a frenzy

Help I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I’ve gone too far
Help I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I’ve gone too far

Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone
Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone

I’m falling down the spiral, destination unknown
Double-crossed messenger, all alone
Can’t get no connection, can’t get through, where are you

Well the night weighs heavy on his guilty mind
This far from the borderline
When the hitman comes
He knows damn well he has been cheated
And he says

Help I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I’ve gone too far

Help I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I’ve gone too far

Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone
Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone

Help I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I’ve gone too far

Help I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go, now that I’ve gone too far

Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone
Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone

Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone
Soon you will come to know
When the bullet hits the bone

When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone
When the bullet hits the bone

Lyrics by George Kooymans