Even last Saturday, we got to overhear emotions just under the surface as a Miss Cellphone lived her life out in full in our train carriage. This was on our way out see one of American Opera Projects' works-in-progress at Princeton (a sedate activity, matching the university-town atmosphere you'd think - look at the bicycles for heaven's sake!)
From our end of the conversation (overheard), we were able to construct an entire biography of the caller. ''Cos yo' ass don't work 9 to 5, Mr Judah P. Washington Jr,' she says, justifying yelling at a recalcitrant boyfriend who then gets her off track by mentioning a film he's been watching. 'Was it in 3D?' she asks, and you wonder whether she might get further with the guy if she can stay on track in what is an apparently serious argument. By the time we get off we've got her entire life in a nutshell - 29 years old, one daughter, a whole life which is run as instantaneous response to external stimulus.
In the main street of Princeton we pass this marker:
I once read some praise of the Declaration of Independence; that it was a remarkably classical document, sublimating its rage in lofty objective language. It may have been a lucky coincidence for Americans that their revolution occurred in an age of enlightenment, when people set store by rational argument. I wonder if they could have formed a lasting government if they'd been governed and overwhelmed at that time by yo-yoing emotions?
Mind you, I suppose we're now seeing (in the deficit debate) whether a nation so swayed can long endure.
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