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Silence in Spring

March 1, 2017


After 2 years of infinite noisemakers noising everyone I know into a place they did not create for themselves, my “Mute” button will be hit for 90 minutes for 40 Days.

More interesting in that, at this moment, the noisemakers are deafening the din with reaction to the Big Noise noisemaking last night. Apparently his noise was nicer last night.

But noise is easy, and getting easier. It’s a flood not only from our lips but in our lives: it is written, it is seen, it is overwhelming because of one simple truth: when we hear and see it we are part of it now – even if we say, type or “like” nothing.

In our noising we have become “analytics”. We are data. We are, now, noise too. Just the act of clicking, changing channels, typing a reaction, somewhere in the 87 places to type a reaction, we are, I am, noise.

Oh, there will be noise today: I bath in it, I feast upon it, it is the road I run upon, it’s the air that I breath. Without noise there is no life for me.

The idea that you could silence a life reared and bred in the amniotic fluid of noise is a blissful dream. I have those – usually at the start of my night terrors.

I crank on at Level 23. Eseentially the calorie burn of a fat man peddling up a middling hill – at 4mph. Very slow, but very hard. I could cite metaphor here, but that is cheap. The irony of a 61.5 year old man pedaling to nowhere, hard, is not lost on me.

400 calories an hour hard in the mythical land of calorie burn calculation. I autonomically look up at a blank TV as I will for 90 minutes a day for 40 days and write this.

Silence is much harder than noise. When you make noise you simply cannot listen. I hope this is not noise I am typing. I hope this is listening.

I hope.

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