Learning Music Monthly - Short Tempered [mp3]
Along the lime green pillar hangs a clock that tells the time and at the time, it told the man living inside underneath the hands swaying in a clock-wise direction, with clock-like wisdom chock full of whimsy, that it was time. And so at this now appointed time, with almost no time to prepare and with little time to consider, the man lifted his body up and out through the face of the clock. Inside of the clock, the man was two-dimensional and only his face and shoulders were visible. It seemed reasonable to think that maybe the man had nothing more to his body but then, here was now and there it was, the rest of his body. Brought into the third-dimension at the instruction of the third-dimension, the man stood for a time until such a time came that the sensation of standing wasn’t a frightening sensation. The weight of gravity upon his shoulders and the reactive force of the floor on his feet are the sort of things that one doesn’t find inside of a clock. All around him were people dining and drinking and reading political blogs and discussing the snow storm. The man turned on his heel, gazing for a short time at each person his eyes ventured across and thinking to himself all the time, “The addition of another dimension is a complex and wonderful thing.” After a time, he faced a window. He continued to turn for a time, peering with perplex at the snow falling from the sky at the time. If the man knew what a snow globe was, he might have remarked that the scene outside, as seen through the large windows, had the effect of making one feel like they were trapped inside of a snow globe. Except in this snow globe, there were no Christmas trees or NYC landmarks. Instead there were eager to please, hard working, fun loving, blindly idealistic (or relentless jaded) world changers and political wonks. There were laptops on every table and many patrons chose to frequent the cafe uncompanioned in a physical sense, but quite happy to be accompanied by Internet. The tables were large and strangers mingled, knowing that they could ignore the person beside or across by simply staring intently at their computer screen and listening loudly to their iPod tethered ear buds. But the man had never seen a snow globe from his limited vantage point inside of a clock hanging from a trendy cafe wall. In fact, no metaphors occurred to him as he stared. The snow fell in a soggy blanket, thick with moisture and destructive intent. Outside, people walked with umbrellas and cars traversed barely the roads saturated with white. The city was shut down that day in advance of the storm so that the citizenry would not have to danger tending to the issues facing our country. Or else, errands. The man lost track of the time as he stood retching his mind, attempting to contort his feelings and beliefs in a manner that could justify the growing expanse outside. And then, a large dog and a small dog passed each other for a time on the sidewalk in front of the window. The large dog scarcely noticed the small dog shuffling through the 8-inch layer of snow and the small dog understood this advantage. It lunged bravely, but briefly, at the large dog’s front paw with incredible violence. The man wondered how such a small animal could possess such an intense look in his eye, even if only for a brief period of time before being dragged away. The man decided that his time here was sufficient and that he needn’t see anymore of this multi-faced world. The man looked at the clock and asked, “Do you have the time?” The clock responded, “It is time.”
Learning Music Monthly is a rhythm and blues band from Los Angeles. The featured song is from the album This May Also Be It. Purchase the music at Cash Music.
