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mode comes from boredom

I chose country life for the rhythm of the natural life. When I am in a city, I feel all the pressure of too many souls around me. When last year my house changed owners, new souls started parading in my 18-year-old tenant universe, the direct access to the fields is now blocked by an enclosure with two horses and I felt like a wall rising between me and the call of the fields and the forest.

Our cat Ali also did not appreciate the intrusion, his territory was already destroyed by the new house that has just been built between ours and the afternoon sun. At the autumn, he left us apologizing for a wild life. And now we are invaded by a whole barnyard of chickens, roosters, goat, and the two horses that cough and sneeze ... I enjoy watching their codes though, and their exchanges and communication modes.

This rainy morning, breathing in the morning air outside the front door, I noticed the concierge, a gray rooster who always patrols between the corner of the house and the entrance to the courtyard, and gives the alert when someone approaches. Yesterday he must have been asleep in a corner when everyone got locked back for the night, and so he spent the night outside. Foxes do not come here, there is a family of weasels, but they´ve been very discreet for some time, if they still live here.

I prefer the time of nature, with its sunrises and sunsets, the seasons, rather than the casual time reduced to the narrow vision of men, which began with the measure of nature to better conform to it, but deviated over the centuries towards the imposition of a human thought on the whole of nature, with the consequences we see today: nature is exhausted and begins to reject the human yoke.

Instead of living with her, for half a millennium, Man has been living against her. He convinced himself that life should be as easy as possible, and his new inventions only served to make him more and more lazy. And finally, he gets bored in his bubble. So, believing he follows the seasons, he creates fashions, and seems to only seek pleasure.

Electricity is a natural phenomenon, and Man thinks he is domesticating it. It is interesting to note that the first experiences with electricity were made in the European aristocratic circles and in an internationalist spirit, between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Often things began with effects for shows, then also flirting with magnetism, itself often associated with hypnotic practices (Mesmer ...). And also associated with the development of the methods of manipulation of the population (our dear encyclopaedists).

Today, and for about 150 years, electricity grids our terrestrial universe. It is known to be harmful if it is misused, but where are the studies on the harmfulness of continuous electric currents? The animals flee when they can, and Tesla´s discoveries on free energy have been removed from access.

We now see the advent of electronics that now produces music, we have moved to transhumanist mode. The musical instrument, an extension of the body of the artist, is now separated, instead of being in a room to bring notes to life and sound for listeners who bathe in the spirit and actively feel all beneficial vibrations around them in space, we now have a computer. And at least one listener, passive.

Instead of a moment of active exchange between 3 worlds and several particular people in a particular place, we have a caricature: a millimetered and heartless electronic club repeats hypnotic patterns on an electro-acoustic network disseminated everywhere, in a long indefinite sequence of sound systems, radios, televisions, internet covering the whole planet, passive.

The last instrument to disappear is the electric guitar. And with her, its music, Rock. "Rock, which made the electric guitar its weapon of war, is now music for old people."

It is indeed official, the counterculture rock is today relegated to the museum: “Now, it’s more electronic music and kids listen differently. They don’t have guitar heroes like you and I did " - Paul McCartney

Should we mourn the disappearance of an old fashion?

Petite Ouverture à Danser
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Gilles Zimmermann

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