In England, the veneer of civilization is peeling away like cheap linoleum. Apparently, 2011 now = 1977 only without all the good music; in fact, some have taken to burning record warehouses full of indie private stock, likely without realizing what they do. And what I’d like to ask is:
Where are all the new protest songs?
Where is the new Dylan, the new Clash, the new Phil Ochs?
Instead, all we seem to have are Justin Bieber and Lady Gaga and an obsession with celebrity gossip. The Society of the Spectacle has returned with a vengeance. We watch reality shows to escape our own reality, but somehow it always seems to find us.
We busy ourselves with televised singing and dancing and cooking contests, while the world around us crumbles a little more each day.
When are we going to wake up and protest against the real enemies of the state? And when the United States finally wakes from its great Decline and Fall torpor, will it be too late to do any good?
Stay safe, all my friends in the UK. I’m missing Kirsty’s voice now more than ever.