[Before I start my rant, I have to tell you that any minute now we’ll be launching a Pledge Music campaign to support a brand new album I want to record in Nashville in May. Stay tuned!]
The room I’m in has 25 LEDs in it. I just counted them. Orange ones, white ones, red ones. Some blink, some just stare. Light switches, the smoke alarm, computer, printer, modem, power strips—the list goes on.
I’m coming to believe that they are something like early one-celled life in the primordial oceans. It is their way of saying, “I am!” The ones that blink, of course, are saying, “I blink, therefore I am.” The poor old devices that have no LEDs are more like rocks, inert and dumb, the creations of mere humans.
While the devices with simple LEDs are admittedly still primitive, they are evolving rapidly. Some of these things now beep when you poke at them, and others—way too many of them—display the time of day. In the kitchen, too many gadgets want you to know that they know what time it is, and while they may have differing opinions on this matter, it is still disturbing. Have you wondered why a toaster has to tell you the time? It is asserting a modicum of authority, of superiority, over you. “I know the time and you don’t.” If you tell it that you do, in fact, know the time, it will haughtily ignore you. (I know this because I’ve tried it.)
Now, I don’t want to sound paranoid, but I think they’re coming to get us. It’s just a start with the shining, blinking, beeping and time-telling, but mark my words, it’s rapidly going to turn into something ugly. Consider this: the screen you’re looking at right now, the one you spend entirely too much time staring at in a semi-hypnotic state, is made of millions of tiny little LEDs.
I’m just saying. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.
Don’t just sit there, take action! Run screaming from your home and come to one of the upcoming shows!
Stay warm! If you’re trying to make maple syrup, good luck! From what I hear the weather has been too squirrely for the sap to flow.