The recent spate of speculation about pop stars as instruments/victims of mind control has me thinking back to something that happened the other day. I was thinking I might write about it then, but never quite got around to it. Now I will.

Early Monday afternoon, the power in my dad's apt went out. This, of course, meant that the computer became temporarily useless. After a few minutes of sitting around, I started to get antsy. I wished I had brought one of my books along, but I hadn't. So I went for a walk. It was a nice sunny spring day anyway.

The stop lights out on Sheridan Blvd were out. All of them, at least as far as I could see. "Wow, cool!" It was like a harmless little mini-Crash, except for the fact that everybody was still driving their cars around, and the traffic was only backed up a tiny bit.

I headed north. To King Soopers. I don't think I've ever been in a grocery store during a widescale power outage before. I wanted to see whether the lights were on at all, and observe any shoppers that might be around. From the parking lot, I could see that there were a few people strolling in and out, so it must still be functioning.

Inside the store, most of the lights were out, but there were enough on to be able see where you were going. I wandered around the produce section. There were indeed a few people shopping, and maybe one or two registers operating up front. Obviously, a backup power source.

Well, I didn't really want to buy anything, and this was getting boring. So I headed back toward the front door. (Ok, so the thought of shoplifting did briefly cross my mind, as this would likely be an opportune time for such a stunt, but wiser instincts prevailed, and I did not act on it.) As I neared the exit, the a capella quartet playing over the speakers almost sounded like some of the religious music I used to hear a lot as a kid, but that couldn't be. Could it? They wouldn't play that in a grocery store.

Back out in the sunshine, I continued to walk north to see if I could find out how far the outage extended. A few minutes later, as I was walking up the sidewalk, thinking about whether the music in the grocery store could really have been the same Jesus-tunes from when I was little, it hit me.

Music in the grocery store?!? The power was out. Most of the lights were dead. Nothing that relied on electricity except emergency systems could function. But the music had been playing. How utterly bizarre. I mean, it's certainly conceivable that the sound system could be connected to a battery backup, but why? As far as necesseties for surviving during an emergency go, that would be about the last thing I could think of to put on the list. (Ok, so maybe it would be nice to have some real music to listen to during a crisis, but the elevator shit they play in stores hardly qualifies.)

Also, I noted my own reaction. I haven't even noticed the fact that there was music running as being odd until long after I left, and only then because the song that had been playing sounded almost familiar.

The stoplight at 88th was also out. There were a couple of cops out directing traffic. Then I started to wonder... Could the Westminster Mall be down too? The possibility was too good. I had to find out.

I walked west down 88th, and saw that other lights on that steet appeared to be running, including the one at the entrance to the mall. My hopes were dashed, but I decided to go check anyway.

When I saw a guard outside in front of the JC Penny store turning people away, my hopes were re-ignited. I headed for an entrance not affiliated with any particular store, and found that the doors were open, but the lights inside were out. Most of the stores were closed, with the bars pulled down, but there were still a few people strolling around.

It was the middle of the afternoon, and the wheels of commerce for an entire indoor mall had been brought to a screeching halt. I felt like cheering!

And this time, I noticed it instantly. Over the speakers, at a volume that seemed even a fair bit louder than usual for a mall. An old 80's tune. Billy Ocean. Get out of my dreams, get into my car. How utterly surreal. All sorts of people, just milling around while this music played. Shops closed down. Some of them appeared to be totally vacant, as if everyone had left for the day. At others, the clerks stared blank-eyed off into the distance. But my favorite was the shoe store, where the employees had congregated at the entrance and were sitting on the floor, talking and laughing with each other. What a perfect image to idealize the heralded post-civilization meltdown.

I continued to wander through the mall, amused at the entire spectacle, and went out the other end. All the stoplights above the US-36 intersection were active, so I assumed the outage didn't go any farther north.

As I walked back, a few of the lights had been restored, while others were still dark. I'm no expert on power grids, but I suspect that must have meant there were simultanious failures in multiple locations. By the time I arrived, power in the apartment was restored.

But thoughts about the music continuing to play during a power outage in both commercial establishments I had visited continued to haunt me.

Back when I worked at the grocery store, my coworkers and I would often remark about how terrible and repetitive the music was. (In all honesty, most of the songs themselves weren't that bad, but hearing the same ones day after day was. (Except for the extra-extended version of the Enterprise theme -- that one was horrible even before I started working there.))

At one point, I remember one of my coworkers doing the "dumb shopper" imitation, blankly strolling around in a trance-like state to the slow rhythm of whatever easy listening crap happened to be on at the time. But that was just a joke, wasn't it? Wasn't it?

I'm sure there must be some studies out there that somebody has done. If not at a university, then internally at some marketing company somewhere, guaranteed. If results didn't reflect that people buy more stuff while background music plays, the music wouldn't be there. Of that much, I'm certain.

But why go to the trouble keep it running during an outage, even when virtually all the stores in the mall are closed? I have a guess or two. It keeps the masses sedate. Any thoughts anyone might have of looting would be subtlely supressed. The subliminal message is, Everything is still running just fine. Keep going about your business, and don't think about other possibilities. Even better, don't think at all. Stay in the trance. Stay asleep.

The Matrix has you.

It has me too.

On Tuesday, I went out and bought NIN's new release, With Teeth. It is thoroughly excellent music. I think perhaps my favorite song is the last one on the album. "Right Where it Belongs."