Posthuman Blues

The Internet is nothing less than an artificial extension of the human nervous system; we are all cyborgs.

Today I found old editions of Suzy Charnas' "Walk to the End of the World" and "Motherlines" in a used book store. I also picked up my reserved copy of "Pattern Recognition" from Barnes & Noble (finally).

The weather is cold and rainy. In the coffeeshop, watched marching protestors and read briefly from "The Mysterious Valley," which I like so far. (The other day I studied the cover of "USA Today". The two main stories were NASA's post-Columbia options and Bush's reiterated demands for pointless death. I am most assuredly living in the 21st century. In the rain and the cold, among the silenced fountains, dystopian overtones are as quietly unnerving as the mystery beeps on my answering machine.)

Email from Natasha Vita-More: she's going to link to my site. I relish the idea of asexual techno-nerds stumbling across my thoughts on UFOs and extraterrestrial archaeology and fleeing in ontological terror.

New links added to MTVI. Come visit.