"That which is overdesigned, too highly specific, anticipates outcome; the anticipation of outcome guarantees, if not failure, the absence of grace."
-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
Sitting here in limbo.

It seems like everywhere I go, they're ripping up the streets. Blocks of cracked concrete and asphalt, the air heavy with dust. The endless condemning sound of jackhammers. Everyone looking for something secret in the below.

Everywhere I go, new buildings are going up. Skeletal complexes slowly climbing into the above, eventually girdled with mortar and brick, steel and glass. Like those time-lapse videos of animals decomposing in reverse.

June 2, 2006 11:04 PM