February 27, 2004

You is an English word.
One sign that you’ve been staring at words on a monitor for too long is the way your eyes, desperate to see something new, begin to change the telemetry they send to your brain. A word at a time, they transform sensible things in the world into bizarre anamolies in your head. Shifty bastards.

In this case, by appearing alone on a line in Quark, a familiar word becomes some syllable imported from the Far East. It’s an exotic stranger, a traveling androgyne. After staring at it for a good minute and tipping my head to one side, I start to recognize this very old acquaintance for who she is. “Oh,” I say, “it’s you. Almost didn’t recognize you.”

(Cross-posted at the Atlas Dispatches)


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