Any Time You Try To Create An

I Believe That By Releasing "passing Interest/low Keepsake-value Literature" From The Burden Of Physicality, You Are Actually Releasing The Words From Their Worst Liability: The Price And Inconvenience Of Actual Bookness.

This Is Not To Say There Are Not Chicagoans. But I Would Suggest That They Are A Nomadic People, Whose Lost Home Exists Only In Their Minds, And In The Glowing Crystal Memory Cells They All Carry In The Palms Of Their Hands: A Great Idea Of A Second City, Lit With Life And Love, Reasonable Drink Prices At Cool Bars, And, Of Course, Blocks And Blocks Of Bright And Devastating Fire.

Do Not Listen To The Killjoys Who Tell You Never To Eat Oysters In Months That Do Not Contain The Letter R: May, June, July, August, Octoba. You Know.

The Understanding That We Reach A Point Where We Stop Becoming Something And Start Ending As Something. That Comes At Different Times In Different Points In Different People's Lives, And Obviously There Are Lots Of People Who Experience The Presence Of Death Much More Keenly And Much Earlier Than I Did. But We All Come To Grips With It Eventually.

So I Am A Product Of The Internet, And To Some Degree A Product Of This Sensibility Of Constant Cultural Reference.