One of the collapses of our age is the fall of separation.
There used to be something of a wall between spheres of our lives. That wall has been thoroughly breached and over-run. We can shop till we drop every minute of every day. Many stores are now open on what used to be our most hallowed of days--July 4th, Christmas and New Year's.
The idea of a day of rest, of moments of repose and reflection are relics like the antimacassar your grand-mother used to make. Escape from sales of the century, from inducements to indebtedness are rare--confined to scarce patches in northern Maine where 1010110s don't reach.
Work, of course, never shuts down. People don't know when to say when. And since even the most-secure of us have only tenuous job security at best, very few people have the presence of mind, the back-bone and capacity not to work 24-7.
Is there anyone, anywhere who doesn't check his messages the moment he wakes up. YOU MAY MISS SOMETHING! No, missing something, failing to respond is a sin without equal.
No, we no longer have any separation from the demands of work, the lures of mammon and the blandishments of advertisers.
We get dozens of email notices everyday heralding savings the likes of which we've never seen before and when they're gone, they're gone. And we believe these notices though we get them every day.
We, as a society, are worn out and brutalized by the constant "on-ness" of our being. We don't look at art, or books, or culture or other humans. They are the interruptions. And I think we are worser for it.
Years ago Buckminster Fuller wrote:
"I think our bedrooms spend two-thirds of the time empty.
I think our living-rooms spend seven-eights of the time empty.
I think our office buildings spend one-half of the time empty.
I think that is something to think about."