Elsewhere in Dreams

I wrote this song last Saturday. You can’t hear the tune, but it’s fabulous. And just in case you might think otherwise, you probably never will.

Winds (or, How to Kill and Be Killed)

These two winds how they blow.
I want to run, but they’re everywhere I go.
And I’ve got two things on my mind:
how to kill and be killed, or how to die.

And you keep promising me things I’ve never seen -
how do I know if you’re real or just a dream?

I keep trying to sew
bits of me over garments clean as snow.
With this comfortable skin
to say the stable is yours, I’ll keep the inn.

And I keep on promising you everything I am;
when I keep a piece, I’ll promise it again,

cause I’m not sure what you’re asking of me
when you keep chaining me up to set me free,
and if you burn me alive, how can I live?
If you take it all away, what can I give?

I’ve got a bird in my hand,
but one in the bush who’s defining who I am.
It’s so obvious to me
which enslaves and which one sets me free.
But I keep turning back and forth as if to say,
“I’d give it up, but you’re taking it away.”

Cause I’m not sure what you’re asking of me
when you keep chaining me up to set me free,
and if you burn me alive, how can I live?
If you take it all away, what can I give?

How did you find me in all of this mess?
How did you bid me say yes?
Now will you take me, thistle and thorn,
like you did before I was born?

I forget sometimes (in the mornings,
at eyes open) that I’m underwater,
and breathe in deep.

This is not where I wanted to be. I can imagine what it might be like being where I wanted, but this is not it. When it comes down to it, I’m on the brink, staggering. When it comes down to it, my heart still races at the thought of never being able to jump. Scared at the chance being taken away.

But that’s how it goes: we forge our pathways. Movie plots don’t work out in life. This path or that.

This is the part where I get introspective. Bear with me.

Imagine walking in fog. That’s what it’s like, knowing enough for a few steps, but not enough for ten thousand. Steps are like days, and days are like plot turns.

Hang on. No really, I mean it. Let me crouch it in euphemism: the edge is merely a plain waiting for soil and gravity (and every disappointment is cause to write a book).

This is why you don’t stop looking - I think - why you can close your eyes - I also think - why you sift the wind for waves - I think yet again - why I broadcast.

You can count on this: poetry. Not particularly accomplished or ground down to structure and facet, but words strung together like water, like sand on the tongue.

This is the part where I weave my fingers together and press down. Beat with me.

I was looking into the dark eyes of a child
when my own dark eyes became seas and overflowed,
to think of your dark eyes far off and falling
into the dark eyes of another.

And no, I’m not talking about the Postal Service song. Last night I dreamed my sister Kristin was in the hospital and that I was trying to visit her - there was more in there too but I can’t remember it very well. What I do remember is the weird design of the hospital. If I recall correctly it was like a Frank Ghery building, except on the inside. And I never did get to her before I woke up. I wonder what it all means.

Since I’ve been in need of things to occupy my mind lately (and having written the starting pages of a novel I may or may not be continuing), here are some glimpses into my mind.

Privacy

Privacy is one of those things that is simply going to stop existing. Maybe you’ll have private communication of some form, and maybe you’ll have privacy in your home, but you certainly won’t have it in public or on the internet.

This isn’t some malicious plot by the government or people interested in gathering datapoints whilst stealing your identity. It’s simply the logical outcome of what’s already happening. Cameras in public and private places, coupled with ultrabroadband internet connections means that a lot of stuff is going to end up on the web in some form.

The key is, I think, who controls the data, and who can access it. A most helpful piece of legislation would be that all cameras in public places must be publically accessable. That is to say, if it’s in public, the public must be able to see what it see. Could this be dangerous? Sure. It’d make the world a heck of a lot smaller. But the potential applications for good are also staggering, much like most technology. Imagine, for instance, Google Face Search. You want to know if your children are in a public place somewhere? Google’s face recognition software finds them, if possible, and tells you whether or not they’re safe.

The good thing is if this technology is ubiquitous, it can’t be targetted. It’s not like a camera installed in the home, which obviously watches a small subset of the population. But public cameras - public defined as broadly as needed - are going to become popular. There will (and I guarantee this) be cameras on and in cars one day. They will probably be webcast-capable, since your cars will be wireless capable as well.

Search Culture

Google is making everything searchable. Or that’s at least their defined goal. And I imagine that most of what we know as humans will eventually end up on the web somewhere, somehow. It’s already begun. You want to know something? Google it. Check Wikipedia. You don’t necessarily need to have a broad knowlege of anything except how to know, and how to search. As long as you’re near a computer - and you will be near a computer all the time in the future - you can find almost anything out. You just need to know the right question.

Some people are optimistic that this will bring a flowering of human exploration into whatever sphere they deep worthy. I, however, think search culture will bring about something of a stagnation of human knowlege: as everything becomes searchable, a broad insight into a lot of different things is lost. For instance, when I search for something on the web, I rarely look into what I’m not already looking for. My search generally leads me to the right place, and search is only getting better. However, when I read a book on something, no matter how narrow its focus, I always find out something about something else that I would not have found merely searching the web. The act of reading a book is simply different from the act of aquiring data.

Matter Editation

This is way distant future, but imagine matter editation become feasible and you can instantly have whatever you want for minimal cost. Imagine, for a moment what that might do to the economy.

It would do exactly the same thing to the economy in real-world items that electronic distribution has done to music industry: it will make anything that can be duplicated cheaply essentially worthless.

And, like the RIAA today, there will be a large subset of resisting “intellectual property” owners attempting to place false barriers in the way of that replication. Because, after all, in order to expect people to pay, there must be some sort of un-met demand. And you can’t have unmet demand where people can simply copy what they want, when they want.

But then, it’s a lot easier to hide a pirated album than a pirated designer car.

If you like good music - as I do - you should probably find yourself clicking on the link below. Or maybe you just want a free MP3, you greedy sucker of blood.

dan (who also likes the free MP3)

Lord of morning, how it breaks to be new,
cracked skin sloughed off
and new sewn on:
I have yet to become comfortable
as this thing.
But you still small voice whisper
not in the fire or in the storm
but in burgundy stripes
across the horizon
bleeding fire:
you are finally getting me somewhere
above this, where I have
never thought to be.

Last night you told me to
walk out on a limb, saw in hand,
and I agreed:
there is too much to forgive,
there is too much to hide.
But underneath (the Spirit is whispering)
are the everlasting arms
are the palms with branches
soft enough to catch
bones brittle that warp like wax:
always sweet breath of morning
easing the cripple to
heel and toe.