Tilting at Windmills
Windmill, the nom de guerre of Matthew Thomas Dillon, is a rhythmic journey into the coldness of modernity. It’s cold marble and plastic; a life lived divorced from emotion. Events of the world, affecting millions, are just pictures on a tv screen, tinted unrecognizable with the glare of a morning winter sun.
One of the big name automakers recently released a commercial featuring a woman staring transfixed through a moonroof as her friends, party bound on a Saturday night, drove through an unnamed city. So mesmerized by the constellations of lights in the office buildings above, she completely missed the fact that her friends had all disembarked. This is what this song conveys: the calmness of drifting through a crowd, detached and aloof, yet in touch with the atoms colliding around you, people, sounds, lights, steel and plastic.
In my ever-increasing search to ensure that I’m doing this legally, I’m trying out Seeqpod. I’m not sure I like how it displays (which is what has kept me from using it before), so anyone reading, let me know what you think.
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