On the N train the conductor sounded Indian and he was chanting the station announcements like a mantra. It lent a sacral quality to the melee for once, as if the universe had finally broken through the static and into consciousness via an otherwise forgotten loudspeaker at the far end of a busy rail car.
There are times when I have the sense that I understand absolutely nothing about the world after all, that the things I ‘know’ are actually thin trivia and silliness, like baseball statistics or esoteric history.
Pigeons are perhaps the most universal component of ‘plaza’ as a concept, itself central to our image of the present. I wonder sometimes if modernity and postmodernity don’t really all boil down to the presence of pigeons everywhere and little more.
I was literally the first person in the building today. I don’t know what that tells me about anything. I went straight to the third floor to find the table at which I often work to be piled with light bulbs. They came and collected them a few minutes later.