I drew a line once, a heavy stroke, firm and determined like wanting to seem decisive, enough of a show so as to continue in or with that tradition of showmanship: to measure the applause of my peers, the heckling of my defeated detractors, and even the amount of oblivion, shrugged shoulders huddled over tiny, shiny contraptions, a cult of neu- rons sustainable unto itself so long as the juice flows indeterminately, what does it matter after all as long as I am among the handful, count my fingers, they protrude from a hand pulling back from a freshly administered blow; I merely bear witness and claw in all those little frag- ments that secure provisions permitting for the perpetuation of privileges gained easily enough and sold at a respectable profit, indeed, agreed upon by a consensus, tolerant enough to cater to what you most expect, for otherwise it would not stand, it would fall over, it would give way to finding blight.
(Originally posted on Thursday, March 29, 2012.)