Vimjka Cghilokimndeui

There's a different smell in the air, an air of cooperation, an air of indifference, a fresh smell, a diplomatic flavour.

Where are the tree frogs?  Are they replaced by armadillos and coyotes?

I sit in the rain, the rain, the rain.  Does rain sound like rain?

How do you interpret the facts?  How do you derive facts from interpretation?

I move from one scene to another, wondering.

How do you remedy murder?  How do account for accidental death?  How do you stop sensationalising acts of youthful, immature violence?

When do you know better?

I've watched my neighbourhood morph from soybean fields and cotton gins, with the seasonal spring/fall sounds of an AgCat cropdusting across the street and a hot air balloonist landing his basket in the cornfields behind us in the summer, to rooftops and cul de sacs all year 'round.

What happened to this neighbourhood has happened to me, in my thoughts, in my actions, in how I choose to see myself in the universe around me.

The suburban homogenisation of the planet is good for us, I'm told.  Interdependence.  Global markets.

So what about the rise in nationalism around the world?  How deep does the pain go of feeling the growth of one global culture made of many former isolated/dominating subcultures?

How do we keep in check the sensationalism that artificially inflates tiny subcultures out of proportion to the number of people who exhibit other subcultural traits more important to them and their pop culture listening/viewing habits?

I'm walking familiar territory today, having forgotten thoughts I'd already written in my synapses and not renewed enough to remember right now.

How can I (or someone like me) go from person to person, examine the thought set, and deprogram the skewed thoughts that have blown ideas of self/other out of proportion to reality because of individual exposure to market-driven mass/mob pop media programming with no connection to reality?

We seem to have a natural tendency to perpetuate myths and legends.  Technology has not cured our ancestral fear of the unknown beast in the dark depths of the woods/jungle/ocean.

Our brains are built to filter incoming stimuli and deduce quickly, picking out simple responses for safety, security and ultimately, survival.

Risk takers analyse dangerous situations before taking risks.

Are we programmed to find risks, even in safe suburbia?  The fewer and less dangerous the risks, the more we magnify them to create a false sense of vigourous vigilance in maintaining our secure cocoons?

Thousands of years of confirmation in answer to an old but newly reposed question.

If we are all the same, which myths and legends do I perpetuate without noticing?