On Dogs, Subways and a Philosophical Insight into the Human Condition


Today we heard the unfamiliar whine of a dog on the subway. Poor thing! We can imagine no environment more foreign or artificial to a dog’s sensibility than a New York City subway car, between the plastic orange seating, linoleum floors, steel poles and preposterous advertisements. (Dr. Zizmor, anyone?) Or — from a sonic perspective — the brakes, which coming into the station scream like terradactyls, or the harsh, distorted voice of the conductor over the speaker, even when it’s our favorite one, the guy who each morning welcomes us aboard the downtown A-train “experience”: none of this is cause for celebration by the poor dog, who we imagine wishes for nothing but to escape. Still, we have some reason to be jealous of this creature, knowing that it will never be possessed by such a longing — both terrible and beautiful — to invent, compose, envision, execute, fashion, formulate, improve, design, forge, modernize, overhaul, reactivate, recondition, reconstitute, refit, refurbish, rehabilitate, remodel, renew, repair, restore, resurrect, retread, revamp, revitalize, renovate and — more than anything — to destroy!

add to del.icio.usDigg itStumble It!Add to Blinkslistadd to furladd to ma.gnoliaadd to simpyseed the vineTailRank

%d bloggers like this: