Who beeped at me while I was walking in the giganto-mart parking lot the other day? I need to know so I can apologize for delaying your trip to the stop sign by 5 seconds.
I am by no means a gritty urban person, but industrialized suburbia is not my culture. Cities, like my fair city of 97% Obama, are choruses. Yes, often it is practicality and not brotherhood that makes it so, but still. Industrialized suburbia, though, are a bunch of greedy soloists who beep at you when you dare to wander into their spotlights.
Homo sapiens vs. Homo Xapian
A dear friend once said that I had a novelist's imagination, his delicate way of pointing out that I might not remember facts, but I could always be counted on to supply the analogy or metaphor for what a fact should mean. Imagine me now in an environment peopled by H. Xapian. A literal world of cause and effect, where dots need to connect. A world that does not recognize that declaring a positive or a negative should also convey something about its opposite state. A world of the trivial and the non-trivial, where trivial is the positive. A world of the eye-roll for H. sapiens.
It's a marriage that needs to work, even if it can't be saved.