![]() ![]() It’s all there, spread out in front of you, exactly like home: everything is exactly the same, but in this sick parody of a universe it’s all been twisted into something hollow, meaningless, and mercilessly dull. Is there no way out? Where are your crew? You rush to the window, and almost collapse in horror. You jump out of bed and start banging frantically at the walls. And the bed isn’t yours, because scientists have never been able to find any way of isolating ‘ownership’ in the physical composition of any object. And the birds singing aren’t really singing-actually, they’re just emitting a series of noises without any of the tonal qualities that distinguish singing from other vocal emissions. In fact, the earth is a sphere orbiting the sun, so the sun does not in any sense actually ‘rise’-it’s just that you happen to be positioned right on the moving line, known as the ‘terminator’, that separates the illuminated portion of the planet from its dark side. Sam Kriss ( writes at Idiot Joy Showland. ![]()
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