matter and mind
and memory.
When all is mediated,
nothing is real, solid.
Nothing left but a globe
full of mirrors, translators, middle-machines...
Mega-machines in our midst,
never resting, always on.
A forum for discussing matters of moment, from a curmudgeonly perspective. (The ideas posted here do not necessarily represent those of any organization with which I am a part). Rude and insulting remarks will not be published, but civil disagreement is welcome.
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