Posthuman Blues

The suburbs have brought me to the edge of despair; the least I can do for myself is move downtown, heedless of any potential inconvenience, and quit living according to a poorly researched script.

I finally got my hands on a hardcopy of Peter Watts' "Blindsight." Unfortunately, I don't feel quite up to the task of reading it. I'm tired and irritable. I feel the need to grieve, but I'm not sure what I've lost . . .

Then again, the paralysis will lift. It always does. Then I'll be good for another few months of ersatz functionality.

Please pardon the negativity.