These maps
overlay the world,
pinned by software,
transparent,
infinitely determinable,
like GPS
reducing eternity and infinitude
in object and shape and dimension
to metes and bounds and points.
It’s the end of the world
or of a world.
A New Globe
ubiquitous and singular.
The old, coarse burlap of before
has been cut,
unmeshed,
re-contextualized,
translated,
de-natured and distilled and
repurposed into postcards of no longer discoverable places.
ad-riddled
and resold,
our custom-made
imaginary apocalypse
of unreality,
mapped.
I was comfortably on that road in the 1970s and 1980s, but then got involved with a cause, with a direction and destination in mind. Life’s not been same since then. In hind sight, maybe the road I took also leads nowhere. I don’t seem to be getting any closer to a destination.
It’s the purpose, the purpose that drives one on. Without it that same road would crumble under our feet like a cat trying to walk up a rainbow (reference to children’s book The Rainbox Cat).
Permalink //
I was comfortably on that road in the 1970s and 1980s, but then got involved with a cause, with a direction and destination in mind. Life’s not been same since then. In hind sight, maybe the road I took also leads nowhere. I don’t seem to be getting any closer to a destination.
Permalink //
It’s the purpose, the purpose that drives one on. Without it that same road would crumble under our feet like a cat trying to walk up a rainbow (reference to children’s book The Rainbox Cat).