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December 13, 2002
I wish to say to you, the reader of these words, that you are now experiencing something that started somewhere in space, entered my head and has flown out of my fingers onto this white screen before me. It's now being beamed into your head and will turn like clothing in a public dryer on some dingy street corner with a sign on the front saying "Public Dry Cleaning", being large white machines buzzing in an aqua blue painted room, with trucks zooming past and a pizza shop two doors up that has slowed down in the last few years.