The Dawn of a Themeless Day

Yesterday, I sorted through 13,000+ downloads, categorizing my aural greed, composing playlists instead of songs. Now today I’ve unchecked all my favorites, removed playlists from the library, creating cacophonic juxtapositions in which U2 chants along with Ella Fitz and Joe Pass and she tiptoes and he fingers a way through the classics. Music goes on within and without me, by George. Under the clever, certifiable, testable guise of high school English, I do medialit and image stuff with Chinese students, who’re buying into the whole western trip. Hate Bush, Love McD. Down With Bush, Up With Microsoft. Off Bush, On With TheClothesMakeUpMTV. Cellphones sprout from spongy heads, carrying the messages loud and clear and now in living color. Papa Mao’s greatgreatgreatgrandkids plugged blissfully into the abyss. The road to freedom’s tough enough without toxins from afar. Enjoy the journey, kids. Meet you at the intersection of the roads less taken.