My current wip immerses me in a time where there was no ambient traffic noise, jets roaring overhead, nor any mechanical machines in our hands, pockets and houses making a constant racket. I wonder what it might have been like to go out of your front door as darkness falls to total silence and a sky full of stars not obliterated by light pollution?
But just how toxic is the modern world of blogging, tweeting, texting, IM, Skyping facebook and social network sites that have us tapping away to tell the world the dog has just thrown up on the new carpet?
Zillions of tiny, useless pieces of data caught in cyberspace must sweep round the earth like tiny, invisible pinpoints of light. [Well no, not really, but that's how I visualise it sometimes]
Does this total lack of solitude stop us thinking, or do we think more, but about less meaningful subjects and with a shorter attention span?
Are the aliens listening, and if so, did they get five miles up and ask, 'Will you listen to that racket?' Is that why they haven't visited yet? Or they have kept a low profile, having decided ten minutes after landing they want nothing to do with this odd creatures so obsessed with the trivia of our own petty, individual lives and that of total strangers?
Have we been marked on a celestial map held at offices in Alpha Centauri with a warning, 'Avoid this planet, polluted by incessant noise and thus harmful to mental processes?'
Excuse me, my Blackberry is flashing, I have e-mail, the TV is belting out the lunchtime news and a car alarm has just gone off in the street outside. Just another quiet day in the life of a writer.
Oh, and don't read this, it's just another diatribe from a housebound author working on her wip on a sweltering summer day who thinks the world MUST be interested in her opinion!!
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