# notstories like shards fabricated splinters of unidentifiable origin one does not read such odd texts so much as insert them into current research slots hot chrome slivers of artificially produced experience now long escaped meaningful connection persisting often merely through casual indifference and repetition micro-dramatic pocket cinema of alienation with no quotidian magic dreary tales of office clerks undergoing minor existential crises every chilly lonesome autumn sunday and library assistants seeking love in suburbia such shards seem to belong to a tacitly understood folk archive sharp edged correctives to neo-romantic mytho-geographic takes on the net's quirky electronic blandscape // republic of bob