Single malt (Scottish water and barley, casks from continental Europe, glass bottle from silica gathered who-knows-where, label printed with inks from similarly untraceable international source...) added to hot chocolate (milk from local dairy farm's rare-breed cows, brought from UK to America 400 years ago, cacao from Africa or South America turned into powder with Dutch process, sugar from Hawaii, Florida, or farther off, vanilla from Madagascar and a bit of grated nutmeg from...well, I'm not sure where they grow the nutmeg anymore.

But I only use Single Malt whisky in my hot chocolate, mind you, because I'm a "purist..."

My understanding of folk music is that people have ALWAYS traveled, borders have always shifted, and music has tended to embrace "foreign" or "exotic" influences more readily than some other art forms, 'cause when folks get together and play, the muse wafts in and innovation simply happens.

True, now that we have a hyperlinked globalized popifyed conglomerate culture, innovation and cultural borrowing is assisted by technology and happens at a much higher speed. Commerce, in its typical leechlike fashion, attaches itself wherever the blood flows best. Like everything else about "postmodern" life, contemporary folk/fusion throws too much at us at once to allow effective and comfortable processing.

My solution? Turn off the mass-media stuff whenever possible and keep the organic local tune/song-sharing and swapping going strong.

That said, I love listening to Paul Simon's collaborations with Brazilian and South African musicians and Karine Polwart's Balkan-influenced traditional-style new ballads. Fusion of the best sort. Smooth and rich and satisfying as, well, single malt in hot chocolate.

--Cuilionn