Back then there were enough people in the room who remembered the games like "Contraption" to strike up a conversation about "culture" even as we were loading cargo planes. We were suddenly all (i)on the go(i). The scales were being held sway by us people--civilians and military. We had to chuck the metaphoric scale-holder in the middle. I'll explain why later, but when people started blowing themselves up and being blown up we realized "language" was more than just "a difficulty". Humanity was embodying warfare. And technology was increasingly "the assist".
Said to be the sundial of savages, the shadows where one can read the absence of the thing represented. Only during daylight of course.
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Vitriole vomit.
In that space between "in" and "out" there is a mess of vitriole. Like puke outside a hall or near a rollercoaster. ...
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It was a long way until then. "It's more like the end of that book," an eye glance in the direction of a knapsack's c...
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"YOU MEEM'D ME MOTHERFUCKER!!" "OhmyGod, please be going now." "Any last words of advice?" ...
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