Ctrl-C Copy, Rubber-Cement Paste

September 29, 2006

What if we were to carry on in nothing but home-made postcards?

No such wanton immediacy as email-enabled cellphone or MySpace commentary — our interpersonal Luddism exiling us back to an earlier, e-less era, save nothing but a photo printer strapped to our prelapsarian backs.

The retrosexual esthetics of pen, postage, and, uh, the photochemical processes that didn’t actually happen?


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