Stand High Long Enough And

That's One Of My Favorite Things About Twitter: You Can Tweak Your Feed Into A Fabulous Novelty Engine. That's Only One Thing You Can Do With It, But It's One Of The Things I Find Most Entertaining About It.

Upon Arriving In The Capital-f Future, We Discover It, Invariably, To Be The Lower-case Now.

Personally I Like To Imagine Something The Size Of A Baby Hippo, The Color Of A Week-old Boiled Potato, That Lives By Itself, In The Dark, In A Double-wide On The Outskirts Of Topeka. It's Covered With Eyes And It Sweats Constantly. The Sweat Runs Into Those Eyes And Makes Them Sting. It Has No Mouth, No Genitals, And Can Only Express Its Mute Extremes Of Murderous Rage And Infantile Desire By Changing The Channels On A Universal Remote. Or By Voting In Presidential Elections.

When You Want To Know How Things Really Work, Study Them When They're Coming Apart.

His Eyes Were Eggs Of Unstable Crystal, Vibrating With A Frequency Whose Name Was Rain And The Sound Of Trains, Suddenly Sprouting A Humming Forest Of Hair-fine Glass Spines.