Wednesday 10 February 2010

February 10

An early death is a truncated story. Thirteen years after she took her own life, I find myself wanting to catch up with S. on Facebook.

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When, in the insufficiently distant future, our snouts are plunged into SimWorld and iLove and VR sex parlours, some intrepid beard will stumble with eyes aflame upon this astounding technology: the paper codex.

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In the lost forest of Caledon, I looked up to watch a raven perform its victory spin. Such gratuitous virtuosity! It was raven celebrating raven –– as life asserts its meaning in being.

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Some birds beat the air as if it were a foe meaning to drag them down. Others seem only to flap their wings in order to keep us from getting suspicious.

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What’s blindingly obvious cannot be looked at.

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