Wednesday, August 23, 2006

In.Trance.It

My apartment complex was decimated on Monday by the freak storm that blew in that night- when I went outside after it had cleared, several of the massive and old pine trees that lined our courtyard had toppled over into people's balconies, onto the walls, and across the sidewalks. Terra cotta roof tiles had shattered and lay in bits on our steps, and leaves and branches littered every available surface. Not wanting to miss the rare phenomenon of water in Arizona, I took my Ipod and went for a jog around the neighborhood.

The combination of the music and my surroundings was absolutely wonderful. In the same way that repeated listening can reveal a piece's structure and motives, the night-time panorama of my drowned complex seemed to imbue the music with a special and different meaning, one that I hadn't noticed before. Likewise, the completely mundane sights of my jog to ASU and back became electric and surreal in this strange new context.

On that note, I've taken to wearing sunglasses and earbuds around campus- and I've noticed a similar feeling of surreality. Maybe it's because I've never really done it before, but it feels pleasantly removed from the constant rush of passerby. Is it a good thing? Should my day be hermetically sealed for my protection?

On your way between classes, note that at least half of the students in transit are equipped similarly- some even go so far as to have one ear shoved into a cell phone and the earbud of an Ipod jammed into the other. Garlanded across their bodies, these devices become a sort of secondary organ system, providing the modern college student with every sense and ability that Mother Nature peskily forgot to disperse. How much further do we have to stretch to call ourselves cyborgs?