Yesterday, sitting under the beehive dryer at Devachan, listening to The Sunset Tree on my iPod nano, the disconnect between the comfortable pampering of my surroundings and the painful autobiographical stories that underlay the genius music I was listening to, the music that I was using to keep myself occupied during the twenty minutes I had to sit and sip filtered water and wait for my hair to dry perfectly, became strong enough to seem funny. Right, I thought, the commodification of experience under capitalism. I seem to remember reading something about this.