A hillside in Wyoming

There's a way of thinking about the world where the world's already said what you were going to say.

There's a place that turns what you were going to say upside-down into some manageable form of infinity you can fit inside of in order to feel comfortable with silence.

What of the idea of celebrity in this age? That it's the raising of mortals to illogical immortality in order to sell magazines and newspapers and :60 second tv spots, or that our own lives are more meaningless than previously believed possible?

We're governed by some sort of cinematic democracy, in which the illusion of a participatory republic is sustained despite contrary evidence, and the system is not what's seen or even reported as what's seen but what's behind the system, the unseen system which controls our lives. 

There's a certain buddhism to our disbelief or in occupying time by watching tv. Some comedy makes us anxious and some comedy makes us laugh, the difference say between Portlandia and Seinfeld. Portlandia can be read as a tract of urban anxiousness in which the wild is still trying to be tamed by creatures from outer space who don't know what they're doing. In Seinfeld the dust has long settled and true absurdity's acheived, which relaxes the overall situation to the degree in which our laughter is not only not so nervous but contains trace particles of our humanity.

High in The Rockies there's still a place we can walk to for solace, take at least a little time there to be bewildered by silence and consider at what point something becomes sacred.