We are encumbered in a world where we are relentlessly harangued and hectored by attention of the wrong sorts — when such “false wolf” cries pollute what really deserves our focus, modern life becomes a chronic burden of persistent unease.
Responsiveness, as a practical matter, is a courteous and appreciable habit. Confusing this with when a reply can’t be pressed down and spat forth within a day, or even minutes, is weary indeed. Especially when the topic is ill-birthed between the loins of a vexatious, bastardly dearth of spirit.
For example, consider the ouroborian death-trap of the modern media machinery: with only moments to spare before an article goes live, the “journo” makes not even a half-of-a-half-hearted attempt to “reach” the subject for comment, then preposterously proceeds to expound that “We tried but didn’t they didn’t reply (so we’re going ahead with this soiled stain of a ‘story’ anyway).” Deplorable balderdash!
Peripherally, you’d be conscientiously cognizant in your vigilance to remember that “the news” does not, by far and large, care about informing and enlightening you. If there is an emotion they seek to stir up, it harkens more toward fear than love, and amidst a turmoil of business model contortions, what money-grubbing, breech-rubbing leeches can resist exchanging their readers’ well-being for OMG AD VIEWS lucre?
It is also such, that in conjuring their own localized terrors, that “the news” prefers that you leave a response that is both (1) fast and (2) furious, careening into the ever-expanding, downward-scrolling pile of piffle that stokes many a war o’ flames. (This does not contribute in any way, shape, or form to advancement of culture.) Express your rage in a pithy one-liner, and you too can be an Internet commenter! Repeated responding of this sort and extended engagement, duly noted, results in more page views and potential traffic for all those ad dollars. A trap we should all avoid, but human nature is both glorious and insidious.
I choose to abstain from such bloated ballywhoring, although like many learned habits that are groomed to robustness, I’ve made many a mistake along the way and posted when I shouldn’t have — however, one posits in retrospect that you cannot correct course without erring first. There’s a paradox in there somewhere.
Another situation I find awkward is when I am asked to give my opinion on a great many things, from musical technologies; philosophical views; and why I do X, Y, and possibly Z. “No comment” by itself is curt without context, and in the many things I must do, it is simply too draining to keep spraying “idea shrapnel”, especially when intellectual weaponry is often best reserved for constructing atom bomb-scale insights and cultivating growth for “the cream of the crop”. Alternatively, I may have a response, if you can be patient and wait a few weeks and/or years. I honor a kindly request and permit it to gel, marinate. So rudeness is not the intention, especially if I leave a pause.
(Insert relaxed breath.)
But, I digress: I really don’t (yet) have an opinion on many the things I’m asked, or I feel I’m ill-informed to give one. I’m certainly touched I am thought of as knowledgeable in various fields of expertise, but I choose not to travel the paths and patterns that won’t fit my thought-ship. When light casts stark shadows on impulsive intentions, it is then we learn kung fu NOT to assail bullies, but for inner strength. In other words, do not converge the effect with the cause, but seek to grace the connection between the two.
Repeating principles akin to these often feels uselessly redundant, and it is a shame that FAQs aren’t auto-transmitted to askers who need them, which is why I’ve stopped that route. Although as noted, if I find a particularly eclectic question, framed within the confines as mother-of-pearl glistens both under sea and on land, then it is likely I am compelled to contribute a response. These, by statistical consequence, are fewer than far between.
I’ve reflected on many a thing for many a year, depth not becoming understood to me until my temples gray. I’ve enjoyed many a song superficially after a few listens, but only time (and the song’s deployment in life experience contexts) can tell the enriched story. I wax nostalgic, a testament to my fragile humanity, and I believe great art breeds new delights the older it gets! Perhaps that’s why I mused about Jan Hammer’s dynamic arrangements in Beyond the Mind’s Eye, and only the other day upon finding out some of his percolating sequences were the product of a Korg Wavestation, I rushed to my wife and geeked out. All this, after having first heard it shortly after it was released in the early 1990s. (There’s another kernel here about the overabundance of technical detail in modern electronic music, at the expense of an imbalanced lack of arranged songwriting — another story for another time, natch.)
This, coupled with a shortness of mental breath, is why I do appreciate reciprocal offers from fellow creatives to “Check out their stuff” as I’ve made remarkable discoveries and allies in doing so — often however, if that is followed by “and let me know what you think”, 99.44% of the time I can’t grant what’s expected. The <1% depends on a trustful mating of my exuberance + that old rascal.
Perhaps you can relate. Perhaps social spam filters to cut down on that noise and improve the quality of the signal are on the forefront of your productive brain, too.
Irrevocably, when one states their opinion so forthright and Scalzian (also, bequeathed vapor of “I will not read your fucking script!”) there is bound to be backlash from those who haven’t communed with time, in a meditative effort to explore further angles. Accusations of “douchebag!” and “what a jerk!” do not attend to the weeping heart of the matter — that is —
at least one pause before reflection, and another applied before response.
Words collapsing into crumbly wrapping paper, in which we bundle our prism of “other” creative languages. Packing it with great care, to be mailed off to an intended recipient whose name nor address we do not yet know.
But such signals have a way of striking the receptors of the right people, and you’d be all good and well to keep your transmitters regularly maintained.
As transmission velocity has, in many situations, ceased to be a a hard limit for delivering content, a delay becomes a choice to exercise wisely.* But what is that they say about seeking to recreate limits upon having transcended them?
* Often not a welcome one, because it’s nested at the tail-end of the day’s decision-making priorities before fatigue must be vented.