A negative view of a long distance high voltage transmission line stretching through the baron landscape.
Something so common and so static, that you ignore it as you ignore the trees across the horizon. They are just there. Even to the point that you
occasionally curse their presence. You are so use to them that you don’t really comprehend how much they affect you. How much you depend on them. Or
how much they totally change the world around them.
You can see it all day, but you will never see it in it’s entirety. You can stand on a hill, and see it stretching out across the landscape as far
as the eye can see. Hundreds or thousands of miles it may go in each direction. Distances a person’s brain can’t really comprehend while standing
in one spot. It becomes the landscape, not just a point on that landscape.
Silent, ever present, and yet massively powerful. The only thing that betrays their true power is the deep hum that permeates the environment around
My sig is along that line. The second part of the puzzle. The metal box in the back yard, behind the building, or on a pole. They are just
“there”. Most people don’t know how, or why they work. No apparent moving parts or outside signs that would give indication to the job they are
doing. The population just knows they are there, and they are the “interface” to the “grid” that gives them the power that makes their daily
Those two things worked together to change the world. Yet they are forever silent, except for that ever present hum permeating the environment that
you can occasionally hear on that quiet and calm night.
Even with your eyes closed you can feel it, that hum is its gentle reminder that they are still there.
A work greater than any so called wonder of the world, but we take it for granted, and ignore it in the most part. Maybe, one day, when that hum is
gone, an old man may tell his little grandchild about the eighth wonder of the world, one that stretched from sea to shining sea and changed a world
The last part of the sig is an old adage of mine
In the modern PC world, people freak out if children are exposed to anything traumatic. They complain that the children will be psychologically
scarred for life. That abhorrence to exposing children to the realities of life is why I think the modern generation is so pliable and stupid.
Experiences build character. Wounds build scars, scars build calluses. calluses are what protects us from hard outside forces that may hurt us.
Calluses are what protects the body when we know we need to do things, even when those jobs can inflict pain and are rough on our body, or mind. They
are our natural method of reinforcing the body and mind to allow it to survive in the outside world.
A man with a pristine body, skin, and mind, is week and easily injured. He has no ability to manipulate and tolerate the outside world to make the
changes that need to be made.
My actions and opinions may appear uncaring, or distasteful. But I do those things because I know they need to be done. I know they need to be done
because I truly care. And I will do them because life has taught me that if I don’t say what needs to be said, no mater how distasteful it may be,
that bad things can happen as a result. My mind has been scared by the bad results of me not saying the truth so long that those scares have become
calluses that make me immune to the backlash that my opinion may produce. I would rather have you mad at me, than to know that something happened to
you, because I was too afraid to speak out.
So… In that regard, I regret that that my sincere concern may not be apparent through the calluses, but it is there none the less.
edit on 26-11-2012 by Mr Tranny because: (no reason given)