He makes, literally makes, with his hands. Creative genius and the gift of the gods, shaping air into dust and dust into everything--back again, too, if he wanted. We are talking serious Lathe of Heaven shit here, people, and I am not speaking for myself when I say this is a bad thing and that absolutely nothing good can come of this.
What was that?
No, not you. You in the back. What was that?
No.
No.
Okay, the Lathe of Heaven thing wasn't exactly an apt analogy, sure, and we don't know how he does it and I'm sorry. I just was searching for that generational touchstone to put everything we were afraid of in context. Won't happen again. I promise.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
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