Crowds are funny things. With the right direction they can become a single agreeable organism. Without it they can be a chaotic risk. Over management and complete freedom can have the same effect. They take on a life of their own depending on the stimulus. They bring a lot to the party themselves sometimes. This weekend we saw how history and the alignment of details became a virtual mob scene. I tend to believe that what you put into a crowd can certainly have a lot to do with the result.
Stunning. The metaphorical weight of Thunder bows to the power of the sound, the indication of a great force whether a slamming clap or an endless bass roll. It finds its way into my poetry and so many conversations because once you do identify it, it is unquestionably the voice from above, a reminder to keep right sized and know that your fragile existence can be metered by a single sound...