The problem with entertainment once it has become
commercialized is that it quickly replaces our own
unique experience of the world, our own voice,
with something merely second hand. After a while,
that is what we ourselves become—second hand,
empty containers, filled with somebody else’s
self-serving idea of culture.
Witness the 100-year old photo portrait of an
American homesteading family. They’ll be standing
outside their self-made cabin, and most remarkably,
holding their own instruments: violins, accordions,
guitars. I say a self-played fiddle tune is worth a
thousand mp3 tracks, and in every way except
technologically more sophisticated as well.
So why can’t we have both? That’s an open question,
but what is certain is that real culture, just as real
listening, is never second hand.
CULTURE OF EXCESS
In the Culture of Excess, the Art of doing nothing,
of doing less, of taking away, of going without,
shines more brightly each passing day, like the
bronze foot of a statue pilgrims have touched
for generations.