polka raze the cd started skipping. dust or a series of small scratches or maybe just the random impulse of a mercurial digital device made the song sound more frenetic than it was born to be. part of me thought, "how could anyone ever dance to that?" another part — the part of myself i trust without knowing why — understood the truth hidden behind the accident. this is what we do every day. we try to keep pace with something wild that's spinning out of our control. and no matter how wild or unwieldy the music grows, we beg it not to stop. because what happens when silence sets in? what are our bodies meant to do then? 220911 what's it to you? who go blather from