There's a complete void of "quiet time" in this society. Every micro-second is filled with frantic activity. Even this isn't enough for the "pushers" of society. They produce layer upon layer of frantic activity and portray it all as "required". Even simple store window displays use an entire wall of TV's all blaring at you. The video ads are made with images which distort and camera techniques which turn and shake. They try to make you feel as if you are watching life from atop a jack hammer. Everything is designed to keep you off balance and to keep your senses from being able to sort it all out. I can barely watch TV anymore. Anything which you took for granted (family comes first, treat people fair, honest labor, boys like girls, sharks are dangerous, heros were good), it's all been torn down, shredded, and thrown back in your face at the speed of light.

Sometime, during the past fifty years, the very definition of the term "News" changed. That term now refers to something terrible which is most likely still in the process of unfolding and will get worse. It's presented in such a way as to provoke a disturbing reaction from the viewer. If it's skillfully done, it will be formatted in such a manner as to suggest that this could also happen to you, and that it most likely will. In fact; it could be taking place at this very moment while you are unaware!!!

I'm always amazed that, at any given moment, the ocean is still there - surf rolling onto the beach. That sound can wash your soul. The rainforest is there - the colors and scents must be a feast to the senses. The rivers flow and the forest has those shafts of light which penetrate the meadow groves deep within. Yet, most of the time, we spend in a room or sitting in traffic, listening to "the News". We wonder why we feel jumpy and trapped. Mostly it's because we are confined by the trends, the polls, and public opinion. And, we begin to be locked in, at birth. We develop ties and responsibilities which link us to places and people. By the time we realize the joke of "society", we are shackled to a place and duties.

So, what do we do? I fight back alittle. I slow down. I remind myself that, for every one who tells me I can't afford "not" to do something, there are several people milking that service. I can't remember how many times I've already heard that this weekend is "the sale of the century!" I don't have to do it all. I don't need it all. I don't need to wallow in the details of every misery to befall mankind. I can tolerate a peaceful moment or two if given fair warning that it's coming. The race can go on without me. In fact, I think I'll just go over to the range for a few hours . . .

This is why I build heirloom quality air rifles.

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