The Stygian Wholesto

In a Universe where nothing travels at light speed, the world suffers from infinite boredom. I have uncovered this Universal Truth while doing field research in Montana, the confirmed epicenter of boredom in our world. What does that make it Universally? I'd hate to consider it.

I'd like to thank Gnothin, my colleague and friend, for reviving me from an existence non sequitor. His recent e-mail and forward progress with the blog gave me the blast I needed. I was so immersed in work that I failed to see myself turning into the very substance from which language exists--the quantum foam of words if you will. From my pit of despair, I recognized the death of communication in a plastic bottle. It was none other than the saddest moment of my life, realizing that our hypermediated language has become so overworked that letters themselves have grown weary of operation. One day, staring at a Coca-Cola bottle nestled in prairie moss, I recognized the phrase CA CASH REFUND for the truth therein. The modern day presents such turmoil that words need not be stuttered by operators. Words are stuttering for themselves--evidence of linguistic slippage. I am a finger snap away from abandoning quasi-mitochondriasm as a viable means of literary study. All my research has come crashing down. Do I pick up the pieces?

Don't answer that. I don't know. I can't know. It would be too painful, and my existence of late has been dense with pain. It is tough returning to civilization with my good friend Gibson missing from academic action. Where has he gone? Where have all the good words gone? I am truly sorry. I will pull myself together soon enough... sooner rather than later if the words will let me.