# surface process intensities to consider art as experience not just an idle waste of time but maybe time itself equals waste cold junk life as lukewarm desert sand though fingers slippery with a lack of elf knowledge skandha heaps of vanity dust in silent winds from nowhere gently billowing digital-aether of infinitely thin torn sheets of scenic time tiny entropic text file kipple fragments anxious objects waiting in a row for nothing fellow researcher dr. orloff: hey sounds like abstraction as a defence against modem myths of realty sudden neural inverse black lightning flash bubbling quantum foam on an endless biocosmic wave which rather than end deposits or abandons itself on grassy verges of electronic super expressways to various unstable near-future nows vague largely non mysterious andor unimportant - wildly expressive on occasion but by no means vital to televisual being only inevitable at this unique nodal point researchers beckett and barthelme in ir lab idly half-ontologically listening to some obsolete zepp track playing next door on muffled retroactively cryo-cooled speakers quietly with strength they state: 'we cannot go on / we must go on / ramble on' // republic of bob