A Midsummer nights Blues (Act 1)

Click, Click, Click, Click...This is the sound of my existence...Click, Click, Click, Click....Peoples voices go mute, birds quit chirping, coffee pots stop brewing and when the big one finally hits it will come to the sound of Click, Click, Click, Click.

For those of y'all that work for the good of American commerce than you know this sound all too well. For those of you who don't, I will explain. This is the sound of a keyboard. Yes a keyborad. Who would have thought that such a simple product would soon sound out the death march towards the death of the American soul.

A DEATH MARCH?! Towards what you may be asking yourself. A death march toward the tiny white light and I am not refering to heaven. I am refering to a computer monitor, and the computer itself. Day in and day out we stare at this screen. At first we hate it. Click, Click, I need some coffee to get out of this seat and talk to the Starbucks lady...Click, Click...man I am busy right now I hope no one bothers me. Click, Click, Click...No i don't want to see them in person, tell them to email me..Click,CLICK,CLICK,CLICK. (The lights go dim and it is only you and the computer.) CLICK,CLICK,CLICK , AHHHHHHHHHHH....Make it stop.

We stare at far away places on the internet, and read of far off adventures wishing we could do the same. Then as soon as that feeling passes we shut it down, and head home. Where we immeditely turn on the TV to keep us entertained. After a day of staring at screens for work, we then turn on screens for our own pleasure. A constant feed of electronic medocrity that sustains our existence Monday through Friday, 8-5, if you are lucky it is that small.

The American Soul of rugged individualism is dying not to the sound of bombs, or guns, but to the sound of click.

And so it goes...so it goes

Click, Click, Click, Click