Posted by admin on October 5th, 2007 filed in Uncategorized
Bats In a freezing attic somewhere in Prague a hungry songwriter invents Sincerity, but alas, too early. A decade later, a popular singer, struck by the intimacy a microphone fakes, invents a way of sobbing in time to the music -- earnest little hearts are wrecked from San José to Surbiton. The angelic choirs, should they be tempted to rebel, would they hit on a trick so lucrative? Clouds of butterflies reassure us: we are so much more serious, and intelligent -- think of rockets, and the invention of dentistry and napalm. Sincerity? It will take a Poet Laureate to turn it to profitable use. Bats circle the Old City, low and silent.